Tangled in the algorithm,
Emeshed by bits of code,
Somehow, accidentally, we’ve
Digitised our soul.
Caught up in the internet,
And bound up in a bubble,
This reinforcing force-fed diet
Leads to digestive trouble.
Like so many I find myself sometimes scrolling for no reason at all…
(05.02.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by camilo jimenez on Unsplash
For one afternoon
we had no internet.
The world didn’t end,
at least, not in real life.
No doubt the fires raged
on social media as
celebrities were cancelled,
politicians vilified,
and wild views justified.
Football pundits were stilled,
pop-up adverts burst,
and the only cookies crunched
had chocolate chips – no trolls
were fed today, just me.
Maybe Artificial
Intelligence took my place,
an algorithm wore
my face. I’d like to think
you’d spot the difference.
Our telephone
is still not working.
The silence lingers.
Oh what bliss…
Today we swapped broadband providers, and for one wonderful afternoon we were cut off.
(27.03.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Kristina Flour on Unsplash
If I were to post poems on Facebook would
that make me a Meta-physical poet?
If, however, I put them on Insta’
do I purvey convenient rhythm?
And don’t forget poor Twitter X
a place for adult-rated verse.
But truth be told as time is tight
and looking over my lines tonight
the persistent rhythm of the beating clock
perhaps my perfect home’s TicTok
In a recent talk I mentioned the metaphysical poet John Dunne. It was pointed out that perhaps I’m one too because I post poems on Facebook; it took me a day before the penny/pun dropped and I laughed aloud to myself walking along the Thames! This poem was perhaps, then, inevitable, although it’s taken a couple of weeks to get it posted.
(17.02.24)
Ode for the Day 