Poem 506 – Trading Colours

I’m glad it did not rain on their parade,
and these old men and women could keep dry,
but somehow it seemed appropriate that the scenes
turned black and white under the gloomy clouds.

Although flags were flying and plastic hats
were worn adorned in red, white and blue,
this isn’t a day for celebration, rather
a day for quiet sombre recollection.

‘We must never forget’, a veteran said,
but as he did, the breaking news told us
of growing conscription in the Middle East
ahead of expanded operations in Gaza…

In the Ukraine the drones still buzz about,
Sudan’s still torn to bits by civil war,
and tariff tit-for-tats are lobbed like bombs.
I fear this is no time for flapping flags.

Maybe, it’s time to swap out national pride
for seeking peace. A holy man once said,
‘Love your enemies.’ If only we had
the imagination that this task requires.

Today marks the 80th Anniversary of VE Day.
(05.05.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Mark Leishman on Unsplash

Poem 436 – Nothing Changes

Wandering through the city streets we noted
the men of war (all men) posturing upon the
capital’s many pillars and pedestals.
Testosterone fuelled, they thrust out chests and chins
and clambered upwards, competing to be highest.
Later, under Trafalgar’s column, we witnessed
politicians and pop stars gather in protest at
Putin’s bare-chested invasion of Ukraine.

Three years on from the invasion of Ukraine.
(23.02.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Borja Verbena on Unsplash

Poem 267 – Numbers

Numbers is found in the Jewish Torah,
the Christian Old Testament,
and the Muslim Tawrat.
It contains the lists of the living.

All three also share
an eye for an eye
and a tooth for a tooth.

Here are some numbers,
but this time the dead
not the living.

In Hamas’ attack
the 7th of October
1139 Israelis were killed.
251 taken hostage.
Each number a person.
Each person a family.
Each family a community.
Each one, one of us.

They say overall
more than 40,000 Palestinians
have died in response.
Each number a person.
Each person a family.
Each family a community.
Each one, one of us.

These numbers don’t scan
or make easy poetry
but that’s not the point.
They’re awkward.
They should be.

Now I don’t know
if these numbers are true
but I know that an eye for an eye
and a tooth for a tooth
was meant as a concession
and not an instruction,
a limit to violence
and not an extension.
I also know that each
one is too much,
that piling more on
won’t get us to zero.

Do call me naive
or say I’m simplistic
but to me it is simple:
violence breeds violence
and might isn’t right.
There’s only one way
we can stop this increase
and that is to stop.

It’s hard to know at a distance how reliable the numbers we’re hearing from this conflict are, but clearly they’re high. Sometimes the bravest and strongest response is to have the courage to ‘turn the other cheek’ as Jesus said in his commentary on ‘an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth’. Naive? Perhaps. Risky, certainly. But…
(20.08.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Emad El Byed on Unsplash

Poem 97 – Incomprehension

Today the sky is blue, a robin chirps
Flitting, his red breast skips into my view
And all is calm. Except it’s not. Somewhere
The tanks rumble forward. Missiles fire. Red stains.
How can this be? How can our world encompass
This contradiction? Why should I enjoy the sun
When members of my family unmet
Know only fear, uncertainty and try
To conjure up the bravery required?
To pour out verse cannot compare with what
Is asked of them, but what else can
I offer? I have no gun. Only prayer.
And so I call upon another who
Was subjected to unfair violence.
I cannot comprehend, but maybe he
Whose blood was also shed might understand?

The tanks rumble into Kyiv whilst here the sun shines.
(26.02.22)

© Ben Quant 2022

Poem 96 – Futility (or Breakfast with Putin)

I woke to hear of bombs
Rumours of war but not
Here. Elsewhere. Far away.
Eating my breakfast I’m safe
I think. I only hear
Vicariously. However
It still disturbs my meal.
I think how awful it
Would be to be woken
By such a bomb in person.
I tweet denouncing this
Then doom-scroll for a while
Thinking someone must do
Something. When finished I
Rise, hunger satisfied.

Sometimes, hearing the news feels a futile affair, desperate situations meet our inability to comprehend them or respond in a meaningful way.
(24.02.22)

© Ben Quant 2022

Poem 32 – Opportunities Lost

I wish I’d asked but youth does not
Appreciate the finite opportunity possessed
By the time I realised time’s scarcity
Those doors were shut

What was it like as a youth yourself
Once island locked to bid goodbye
Leave familiar shores, be evicted abruptly
Those doors were shut

Sail to alien lands with brothers unknown
Fight famine, plague, war and face death
Grim conflict without, peace lost within
Those doors were shut

Finally coming home to family changed
Moved on in life without your presence
Faces altered but you’re the stranger
Those doors were shut

How could you cope with enduring such sorrow
Those vivid scenes secretly stashed away
A simple return to normality that couldn’t be
Those doors were shut

Armistice Day (11.11.21)

Edit: I reworked this overnight, not being completely happy with it before, especially the final stanza.

© Ben Quant 2021

Armistice Day (11.11.21)

© Ben Quant 2021