Poem 955 – The Royalty

Art deco lines, once crisp, now stand invaded,
their borders crossed by roots and softened by
the wind that blows through blown out windows panes.
Inside the only queues are distant echoes,
first dates of yesteryear and giddy children
grasping parent’s hands and bags of sweets.
An organ plays before the ghostly reels
begin to turn and greyscale images
flicker upon the absent silver screen.
Somewhere a forgotten steward points to seats
as ancestors laugh and point and scream with joy
ignorant that their far-flung families walk by.
The shell is all we see; a failing
memory beneath a fading dome,
doors sealed and windows boarded in defiant hope.

Just down the road from where we’re staying is The Royalty, Harbone’s once resplendent art deco cinema, but now a shell despised by fire and time. Despite appearances, it somehow seems alive.
(28.07.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 625 – The Roses

At the flicks, to watch hot picks,
the battle of the sexes.
Tonight’s rom-com, love come undone,
relationships neglected.

Bunny blended, love has ended
Who will end on top?
Benedict or Olivia,
one will get the chop!

Before too long, I knew I’d got it wrong,
the rabbit evades capture,
as long as it has got the wit,
to avoid Fatal Attraction…

Went to the local Odeon tonight to watch The Roses, the remake of the War of the Roses. It turns out, I’d got my films muddled up, the bunny scene was of course in Fatal Attraction, meaning a hasty rewrite…
(31.08.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash