Many referrals:
Rain drops in an autumn storm,
Statistic deluge,
Lake of administration.
Mustn’t lose humanity.
A long busy day at foodbank. It would be so easy to lose sight of individual guests amongst the lists and spreadsheets.
(13.10.26)
Foodbank
Poem 1025 – Harvest Hills
Man-made mountain range
Tectonic plates surge upwards
Gratitude ridges
Another busy day with the foodbank, not just arranging parcels, but receiving so much food from our generous Borough. I don’t think I can lift another crate today, I’m totally exhausted but so grateful.
(06.10.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Poem 977 – Contentment
Sat in the back of a foodbank van, the sun
is beating on my face. Right now this is
a happy place. I note the irony.
I tell myself it doesn’t matter what
you have, that things don’t fill a soul or make
you whole. That’s easy to say when you have things.
I have things. Too many things it’s true.
So many things I freely throw them in
the dump. That’s not a boast but a confession.
Once, a wise man found the secret of
contentment in plenty and in debt. Perhaps
I need to find it. …But maybe not just yet.
Musings whilst sitting on the back of the foodbank van today…
(19.08.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Autotrader UK on Unsplash
Poem 967 – Look Out, I’m Coming!
Preparing to juggle cans
of ham and spam, and jam,
to deal with warehouse keys
and sort out packs of cheese,
to answer the telephone
and deal with people’s woes,
to manage volunteers
and listen to people’s fears,
drive the electric van
and do the best I can,
to keep the foodbank going
and keep the parcels flowing.
I’m taking over running the foodbank warehouse for a week, this week, and so here’s a hasty verse that’s really just for fun.
(09.08.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Poem 861 – One Week With Foodbank
Shunted many parcels
Stared at folk on Zoom
Sought new volunteers
Pushed tables round the room
Paid the vehicle tax
Practised pastoral care
Threw away the trash
Put out requests for prayer
Made a new trustee and
Welcomed first time guests
Tussled with I.T. and
Pondered what was best
Much of my time at the moment is caught up with foodbank as we go through period of transition.
(24.04.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Poem 833 – In Contrast
Apprentices flogging rubbish
Squeezing out every penny
Hype and exaggeration
Evening celebrations
Thanking foodbank leaders
For humbly serving for free
Watching TV after saying thank you to our two magnificent foodbank leaders who have given everything for fifteen years. What a contrast.
(27.03.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Poem 761 – The Cultural Pot
The circling critics mass with clicking keys,
headlines angrily declaring that,
the multicultural culinary dish is dead.
They clearly haven’t tried our bubble and squeak.
Today a Brit, a Turk and a Kuwaiti worked
together, serving food to English neighbours.
Their dishes? Cuisine cooked from diverse cultures,
a blend of ingredients derived from different nations.
And as they did they shared from a common pot
of love and conversation. Send them home?
If we did, we’d find we’re left with silence, vacant
plates and empty hearts; a menu of empty lines.
I had a lovely afternoon today working at our foodbank with two volunteers both of whom have come from our Conversation Cafe for those who speak English and a second language.
(14.01.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Poem 480 – Making Space
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
Poem 317 – Yesterday’s Mystery Visitor
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
Poem 216 – The Foodbank Nicked My Chocolate Cake
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
