Pantoum

Poem 755 – Storm Goretti

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Water sloshes from the sky like ocean waves
Crashing recklessly over the pavements,
Whilst rivers run, white rapids down the roads,
Tumbling torrents full of energy.

Crashing recklessly over the pavements,
Flushing the world within its hungry wake,
The storm’s a torrent full of energy,
A hungry deluge devouring the darkened sky.

Flushing the world within its hungry wake,
The urgent raindrops drum incessantly,
A hungry deluge devouring the darkened sky
Whilst sunshine hides its light in guilty shame.

The urgent raindrops drum incessantly
As rivers run, white rapids down the roads.
The sunshine hides its light in guilty shame
Whilst water sloshes from the sky in waves.

I enjoyed writing the pantoum a couple of days ago, and so thought I’d try another on this rainy day.
(08.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Kostiantyn Li on Unsplash

Poem 752 – Under the Dusty Moon

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The night is dark and cold, another world.
Inside, the dark house creaks, could it be haunted?
A creature crashes against the neighbour’s fence,
accompanied by the roar of a passing bike.

The dark house creaks, could it be haunted?
My wife breathes alongside me oblivious,
accompanied by the roar of a passing bike.
Somewhere a lover argues on his phone.

My wife breathes alongside me oblivious.
Meanwhile rubbish blows along the pavement
as a drunken lover argues on his phone;
two strangers drifting under the dusty moon.

As rubbish blows along the empty pavement,
a creature crashes against the neighbour’s fence;
two strangers adrift under the dusty moon.
The night is dark and cold, another world.

A pantoum in response to a post by Pádraig Ó Tuama.
(05.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Gary Fultz on Unsplash

Poem 331 – Don’t Judge a Book By Its Cover

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My grandmother gave me the tales of Robin Hood;
it’s still safe on my bedroom shelf.
I had to stop it from being thrown away
and cried when Robin shot his final arrow.

It’s still safe on my bedroom shelf,
this small green book that appears nondescript and harmless.
I cried when Robin shot his final arrow
but I suspect others wouldn’t give it a second look.

This small green book appears nondescript and harmless,
but it’s always been a foundational story for me.
I suspect others wouldn’t give it a second look,
but it has subtly shaped the way I see the world.

It’s always been a foundational story for me,
I had to stop it from being thrown away.
My grandmother shaped the way I see the world,
through giving me the tales of Robin Hood.

Inspired by Pádraig Ó Tuama, I decided to try another pantoum, a poem made up of right lines repeated with a strict pattern. The lines can be tweaked to make them flow better.
(23.10.24)

© Ben Quant 2024

Poem 219 – Sleep

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The light switch flicked and only we prevail
And as we sleep as one, one breath we breathe
I don’t recall when I forgot to marvel
Before, we talked and read, then after, we leave

And as we sleep as one, one breath we breathe
Miraculous contained within mundane
Before, we talked and read, then after, we leave
The ordinary matters and, shared, sustains

Miraculous contained within mundane
Two pillows bound together by one sheet
The ordinary matters and, shared, sustains
Your daily life around my form completes

Two pillows bound together by one sheet
I don’t recall when I forgot to marvel
Your daily life around my form completes
The light switch flicked and only we prevail

This poem takes the form of a pantoum, a Malaysian form with eight lines repeated in a strict order, and is inspired by Pádraig Ó Tuama’s post on the ordinary. After almost 30 years of marriage, the simple act of sharing everyday life and daily routines, such as sleep, is simultaneously both ordinary and surprising.
(30.11.23)

© Ben Quant 2023
Photo by Krista Mangulsone on Unsplash