It’s my anniversary!! 

Today marks three years on WordPress!! I started a blog called All About Elle, about motherhood, three years ago; when I had my first daughter Estelle. 

This lead me, to starting Ink and Quill. At the time, I knew I loved to write fiction, but what I soon found was a love of poetry. I have grown so much since the beginning of my blogging journey. I feel like my writing confidence has increased and my passion evoked by my lovely inspiring followers. 

Honestly all your lovely, supportive comments have helped shape my writing and my confidence and I am modivated to keep writing!

I have had a little break from writing over the last year…what have I been doing? 

Estelle and Audrey 💖


But, I’m back! And my muses are inspiring me everyday. 

So here’s to a productive and positive 2017!! 

Jen x 

Whiskey Glass

woodman

Photo by Frances Livings

The dewy kiss of morning light,
shines upon our wallpaper
water stains
crease the lines
and bare our pain
lipstick marks the mirror,
crimson curled
floral and mould weave
an asymmetrical pattern
breathing life into where we dwell

walls2

Photo by Francesca Woodman

We’re the sawed off pieces of vintage
lace blowing against the window frame
The rotting leg, of a Victorian chase
mercury glass hangs –
the ceiling; a cold damp place,
with a tobacco stench

You, sit in silence
with a comb through your hair,
like an willow branch bowed at the waist
once an oriental lily,
now a bud cut from a stem

I, sit in silence
with a whiskey glass in my hand,
fingers blanched
Blank and vacant decadence
a childlike glance

We can’t recollect
a time before this,
Our withered bones and shredded skin
glisten in the sun
breeding
an unfortunate tale
one of stagnant drench.

@ J.CALVERT 2017

When I wrote this, I had a clear picture in my head, of a beautiful women fading-vacant and a man with a whiskey glass in hand. A time of depression, where the bottle took over their lives. Not sure where this poem came from, but it was written. Funny how the writers mind works.

Do you often read your work back and think where did this come from?

Heavy Hearts

My heart weighs heavy, under these densely-packed fronds.
J.Calvert 2017 

Images: Pinterest 

Little Pieces 

My heart a million little pieces reflecting light, illuminated under the stars tonight. 

Words J.Calvert 2017 

Image: Pinterest edited

Winter’s Final Note-Revised

Winters Final Note In sleet and snow the land stretched below and the cold earth moaned a mournful cry The skies overhead bleed in white – drops fall beneath a sinking sky, harrowing unspoken sighs Running rivers rest in silver … Continue reading

Tonight, Send Me A Warrior King

 

fashionphotographer5

121clicks.com

Tonight,
My enemy lies beside,
under the cover of night,
A little slice of heaven,
desire to roam my body, passion to clutch my throat,
lips wet with promise, lust never tasted so divine,
savoured like forbidden fruit, I bite with greed,
leave behind teeth marks
and a throbbing wound

Tonight,
send me a man,
a bold one,
a warrior king,
I need a fighter, someone who’s not afraid to sin,
a solider looking for a fight,
to combat under the sheets,
we will battle through to dawn,

Tonight,
is all we have,
tomorrow you can leave,
I’ll be finished with you by three,
we can be nemeses,
in the light of day,
but under the cloak of darkness,
you will be mine.

Tonight, you’ll stay.

@JCALVERT 2016, REVISED 2017

Sensual-Art-Photography-Couple-Intimate-photo-4

121clicks.com

To Kiss A Girl – Revised

I’ve always wondered

What it’d be like,
to kiss the lips, of a girl,
Soft and smooth,
like my own,
open and ripe;
the arc of her lips
pressed against the curve of my tongue,
to please
and feel the stir,
to stroke and suffer,
the sensations – textures of silky skin,
of two hearts beating in perfect applause,
to thread and tie,
the gather, of her strings,
the grip of her curiosity,
dearly – grasping my wrists,
in heated desire
our bodies dripping wet,
bound between curiosity and knowing
our bodies, to discover
each extinguished edge,
on the threshold, of the end,
to shake and tremble, delicate in our adore,
what it’d would be like,
to kiss a girl.

@J.CALVERT WRITTEN IN 2016, REVISED IN 2017.

Vanished

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Imagine, one morning waking at dawn. The colours of yellow and burnt orange warm your skin. You open your eyes and search your surrounds, everything that once was, gone. Your world blank. Your loved ones vanished, your career and professional life irrelevant in a new world. Your home a distant memory. It is just you and things you own. Emptiness grips your throat and your breath laboured. You’re left cold.

Everything that was important to you yesterday, replaced by times rapid clock. How do you move out forward?
In this life, we’re constantly thriving to achieve financial success. Chasing materials to fill a deep void. Masking our sadness with bigger and better products.

But what happens when you awaken; from this life created? Will you look back and love the things you have brought? Or will you remember the people who travelled beside you? Moved through the thick hours of time, and supported you with love, and action.

As time ticks by, remember it is only fleeting, that one day the hands will stop, will you be left with all your possessions or will you choose love?

 

Image courtesy of http://aracelirldeloleoalcincel.blogspot.com/2016/08/richard-avedonel-hombre-que-revoluciono.html