Today, I’m making space for conversation
Pushing back the barriers to speech
Setting out the chairs around the table
Ensuring everybody has a place
Putting on the kettle, making tea
Meeting everybody with a smile
Whiling away the hours with open questions
Offering our guests the gift of time
I’ve been reflecting on the impact of our foodbank layout on our visitors, and have decided that it’s time to ring the changes.
(09.04.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Aditya Kulkarni on Unsplash
I encountered a stormtrooper
standing at our food bank.
I wasn’t expecting that.
He stood expressionless as
they always seem to be.
Who knows what he was thinking.
Was he plucking up
the courage to ask for help?
It isn’t always easy.
Or was he on a fact
finding mission? A watching
brief to assess choices?
Perhaps he was simply lost.
Again, that’s not unusual,
but I’m not so sure.
I didn’t know what to
say and so I asked
if I could take a selfie.
I’d like to think he smiled
under his helmet. At least
he didn’t shoot me back.
It’s a long story…
(09.10.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Oh, dear, I found out late
The foodbank nicked my chocolate cake
Oh, no, it was not funny
But apparently it was quite yummy
They scoffed the lot
and stuffed their tummies
and left behind
this plate all crummy
But oh, how, I laughed out loudly
When I found they’d eaten the wombat’s brownie
I’m writing this at the end of a fantastic day hosting Paul Cookson the performance poet, with shows and workshops at two local schools before back here at our church. Just before the show we discovered that our foodbank had accidentally given away our refreshments and decided that ‘The Foodbank Nicked My Cake’ would make a great title. Here’s my quick stab at this in pale imitation of Paul’s children’s verse. I’m afraid you’ll have to have been at his gigs to get the punchline…
(17.11.23)
© Ben Quant 2023
Photo by iMattSmart on Unsplash
Who withdraws from our bank?
You can probably picture the sort
I know I did, but then I saw and
Abandoned presupposition
Some breeze bold and expectant, bravely
Talking of Spurs or the traffic, whilst
Others trapped by nervous embarrassment
Hover, eyes down, glued to the door
Once in, they can’t help but spill their travails
Requiring gentle ears to collect them
Divorced architects, nurses out of credit,
The furloughed and pandemic afflicted
Cabbies with the Knowledge but
Know-how’s not enough to turn things around
From social housing, tents, flats,
Leafy suburbs, even mansions
We’re all just a coincidence from crisis, a
Cocktail of events, concocting the perfect storm
A multicultural meteorological event
With no natural immunity or vaccine
Who withdraws from our bank?
It could be you or me…
The local foodbank was started in 2012, distributing from our church Monday to Friday. It has taught me many lessons. I hope and pray it has made a difference to our guests. I know it has made a difference to me.
(25.11.21)
© Ben Quant 2021
Ode for the Day 