tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38810382002830121962024-02-19T05:36:09.869+00:00Ink ChampagneAn eclectic mix of poetry and proseInk Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-61409931256475027692011-09-01T20:05:00.000+01:002011-09-01T20:37:59.806+01:00Still blighted by writers block, I've decided to share some of my pics captured during my search for inspiration. Not my usual update, but pretty nonetheless. Enjoy! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWPXA7dugaihbjclt9FdK_LpEcoeR7vFxJ7nRCpy4MHj2HJwnhMU8m-1OebLOhL__6_xy_qKs0vtrSe11DZtCPBjNBrSfH0bOxl7I6nHdbB7zdaTNiCidk5ZjDVgxzUCBL86andQR6Q7U/s1600/264.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWPXA7dugaihbjclt9FdK_LpEcoeR7vFxJ7nRCpy4MHj2HJwnhMU8m-1OebLOhL__6_xy_qKs0vtrSe11DZtCPBjNBrSfH0bOxl7I6nHdbB7zdaTNiCidk5ZjDVgxzUCBL86andQR6Q7U/s200/264.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
One of Gormley's finest, suspended in mid-air <br />
Manchester Art Gallery<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo6jT7ulP2fj3ou3ROwmNDVjSy3HuUXb1ncrSK9TcIfp50pInLEIkRmKrBKh2USEinoiAnvTuUjkj4sqKo5zUPrm8oN8dTFkJd-3yftPG59LBjXh7meMxO4Yp6ZpkbR2CYWn46odhyphenhyphen8Qs/s1600/305.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo6jT7ulP2fj3ou3ROwmNDVjSy3HuUXb1ncrSK9TcIfp50pInLEIkRmKrBKh2USEinoiAnvTuUjkj4sqKo5zUPrm8oN8dTFkJd-3yftPG59LBjXh7meMxO4Yp6ZpkbR2CYWn46odhyphenhyphen8Qs/s320/305.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Pretty pink petals <br />
Tropical World, Roundhay Park<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin1sxy07ngvqwAFDLZPkoabJluQAJlOomMxBCgoMra0cdsKseUCjFvSaN7CMWlDRrpuQvT0B_BVCRSmTX_DPgCJoRpsHjR26-GQ9tbvW481frK4dIBsJC1Yq05OEtQfv4W2Xk9mFjVPKc/s1600/229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin1sxy07ngvqwAFDLZPkoabJluQAJlOomMxBCgoMra0cdsKseUCjFvSaN7CMWlDRrpuQvT0B_BVCRSmTX_DPgCJoRpsHjR26-GQ9tbvW481frK4dIBsJC1Yq05OEtQfv4W2Xk9mFjVPKc/s200/229.JPG" width="200" xaa="true" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdh7uNzLls4gPAG0uJC-2hHMhrbGyE4aZO0ypCMzIEDx0Z6xXZdDK8cF55kQWU-cuCetHSBXywF_RRIeuLJDUeZnnQd77B_mezLOcfHpRDFQkO7H-qyIkIRYBWWJ0IulUPpuGrIuZZy9E/s1600/228.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdh7uNzLls4gPAG0uJC-2hHMhrbGyE4aZO0ypCMzIEDx0Z6xXZdDK8cF55kQWU-cuCetHSBXywF_RRIeuLJDUeZnnQd77B_mezLOcfHpRDFQkO7H-qyIkIRYBWWJ0IulUPpuGrIuZZy9E/s200/228.JPG" width="200" xaa="true" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Ten of my five a day :)<br />
Before & after<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgtK9YMjD-S-qHmbC8KJVM8B-neU07K1HP-ppBgHYAyfw4ZKwa_hmsLwX8kAjYZ97vPYi9wo7c3VKX0xhgr7qOJKn2AH5CZn2vwHJcxtBQLLa1ipmedXUbirMYuzvz19RARbZNdibzUuw/s1600/030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgtK9YMjD-S-qHmbC8KJVM8B-neU07K1HP-ppBgHYAyfw4ZKwa_hmsLwX8kAjYZ97vPYi9wo7c3VKX0xhgr7qOJKn2AH5CZn2vwHJcxtBQLLa1ipmedXUbirMYuzvz19RARbZNdibzUuw/s200/030.JPG" width="200" xaa="true" /></a></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
Birdhouse... Snapped at a distance due to my fear of pigeons!<br />
York Maze<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsV9FzaNC0MrSLBcWELdxXQH61bywTXfxDYzmo8OrsW-Ik19hfQj2c7VS7T_SuT-8hc4XC1aBTwckx76X5mSBI0AnDd19G1r-gFwyZ2hxEBUIVLX6sgccqKpuyJBQw56kQpDiOGZfQewc/s1600/309.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsV9FzaNC0MrSLBcWELdxXQH61bywTXfxDYzmo8OrsW-Ik19hfQj2c7VS7T_SuT-8hc4XC1aBTwckx76X5mSBI0AnDd19G1r-gFwyZ2hxEBUIVLX6sgccqKpuyJBQw56kQpDiOGZfQewc/s320/309.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
</div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
</div>
<br />
A burst of orange <br />
Tropical World, Roundhay Park. <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgicEYxe9Amml24GGA82sd4HtM5lIQbQ_TRa3NjhcKYzoO2HFYkjFFOop6qsx3_RKMs4_U29IJ66bEYXs3DRlsAAOs1YU6rrpr0cRxBfppog7eMHoK7Kl2uQPHxb58nH3tpBNZe6V9L_HE/s1600/271.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgicEYxe9Amml24GGA82sd4HtM5lIQbQ_TRa3NjhcKYzoO2HFYkjFFOop6qsx3_RKMs4_U29IJ66bEYXs3DRlsAAOs1YU6rrpr0cRxBfppog7eMHoK7Kl2uQPHxb58nH3tpBNZe6V9L_HE/s320/271.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">
Fabulous exhibit<br />
Manchester Art Gallery</div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-40991307470684296802011-07-18T00:18:00.002+01:002011-08-29T19:24:31.161+01:00One dayWell hello :) It seems June escaped without a single posting. I hope my unintentional absence wasn't noticed...!<br />
<br />
I sat down with grand plans to write a poem about Icarus and this next post appeared... I'm not quite sure what happened along the way, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. <br />
<br />
<br />
<b>One day<br />
</b><br />
<br />
One day I’ll press a paper heart <br />
And place it in a small gift box<br />
So you have something to look back on <br />
And know you were loved…<br />
A lot.<br />
I’ll squeeze in all the memories<br />
And dry out all the fears<br />
Just so you can hold the paper heart…<br />
But don’t revive it with your tears<br />
Or one day you’ll feel that fragile heart<br />
And notice all the cracks<br />
Then watch it crumble to confetti<br />
And realise time cannot turn back.<br />
<br />
<br />
© Copyright Jane Edwards 2011Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-58331318764475782572011-05-22T23:02:00.001+01:002011-05-22T23:04:28.916+01:00Respect for the rosesQuite often when I sit and write, I don't know where my inspiration comes from. This latest one however follows the trend I seem to be developing for linking life, nature and the environment. I hope you enjoy.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Respect for the roses<br />
</b><br />
When she speaks, petals burst from her<br />
to fill the air;<br />
Raspberry wisps that curl and float,<br />
and with a shower of softness, rest<br />
upon those dear to her.<br />
Her hums help to shake the cloud<br />
in to a blanket of delicate armour<br />
that crisps, and protects<br />
when exposed to sun. Every perfumed breath<br />
an encouragement –<br />
to step out of the shadow,<br />
and dodge the thorns. <br />
As they grow and shed the brittle flakes <br />
of love, the shards – that are ground into dust <br />
under their feet – nourish the buds that now spring from them,<br />
and heaps delight<br />
unto the Rose that borne them. <br />
<br />
<br />
(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2011Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-32750567133616454442011-05-02T00:59:00.002+01:002011-05-02T01:15:09.054+01:00Sewn<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As usual, anything that catches my eye usually inspires me to write… Though I have gone off on a tiny little tangent! </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Sewn</strong></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We each have a ragdoll;<br />
a tiny little clone,<br />
patched from our experiences,<br />
stitched with colours of our hopes.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mine is sitting quietly on a dusty, comfy chair, <br />
between pink ink and paper,<br />
with eyes of blue glass-buttons<br />
and cherry-yarn bunched hair.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My seams are yet unfinished,<br />
large stuffing-tufts on show,<br />
as for little bows of happiness – <br />
they wait patiently in row.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some stitches are imperfect,<br />
some material threadbare,<br />
my fabric skin not peppered near-enough <br />
with yellow darned here or there.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, if your doll is tinged with purple,<br />
or a little bluish-green,<br />
leave your model in the sun<br />
and fade until unseen. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2011</span>Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-24941650479767350412011-04-26T23:53:00.001+01:002011-04-27T00:39:12.177+01:00Still<strong>Still </strong><br />
<br />
I carry it with me. <br />
It’s dog-eared and tea stained, but always with me.<br />
Though, it’s faded by sun as I cannot bear for it to be starved of light;<br />
As you.<br />
The muted colours still dance on the paper and kindle its silhouette into my eyes;<br />
As you, in life. <br />
When some days it stays hidden in the shadows, I know it’s there; scratching around with crumbs and an old button for company in the confines of my purse.<br />
Those are the days I’m most sad. <br />
When remiss, I lose the chance to say ‘Hello’, and find only my regret at 'Goodbye'. <br />
That’s when I lose it again.<br />
And find paper kisses no longer revive its breath;<br />
As you. <br />
It’s still with me, until I can bear to share it with others, in a frame on the hearth;<br />
As we did, in life:<br />
For the ones we loved. <br />
<br />
<br />
(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2011Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-549727648566654842011-03-31T00:53:00.002+01:002011-04-18T19:55:35.183+01:00Nothing's in its placeSometimes, when my eyes sting,<br />
I see most clearly<br />
When shadows shift and bring the day,<br />
My choices, <br />
lit in gloried sunshine,<br />
But why is nothing in its place?<br />
The stars were charted,<br />
(childhood wisdom)<br />
By certain times;<br />
specific dates,<br />
My outcome,<br />
plotted; predetermined,<br />
So why is nothing in its place?<br />
Fulfilment's just around the corner,<br />
I'm just one step away from grace,<br />
My checklist,<br />
blank;<br />
to be filled in,<br />
And that's why nothing's in its place.<br />
<br />
<br />
(c) copyright Jane Edwards 2011Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-15295467276380593362011-03-28T23:52:00.003+01:002011-03-28T23:55:46.631+01:00The Ghost TreesI came across this interesting Daily Mail article yesterday: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1370181/Millions-spiders-crawled-trees-creepy-effect-Pakistan-floods.html <br /> <br />It describes a phenomenon I've never seen before, and even though slightly freaky (I would not like to be sat under that tree) it amazed me and inspired the following words. But, however inspiring, I recognise that my inspiration is as a result of some of the worst floods in eighty years and serves a timely reminder (at the end of climate week) that any change I can make which reduces the impact I have on the environment is worthwhile. <br /> <br /><strong>The ghost trees</strong> <br /><br />Grey candy stands, resolute;<br />a webbed-ode <br />to survival. Spun-salvation, <br />pulsing... <br />breathing... <br />contracting, with life. <br />Leaves, host to a silken jacket <br />- warmed against standing water – <br />chilling, <br />to the eye. Vibrations;<br />a silent knell to the perpetrators<br />of disease. Synchronised spinnerets <br />dancing, <br />to bring life, to <br />The Ghost Trees. <br /><br />(c) Poem copyright, Jane Edwards 2011Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-25824033741909546962011-03-08T00:11:00.002+00:002011-03-08T00:36:42.485+00:00The dancerFor some reason (maybe watching one too many BBC adaptations over recent months) I have early 1900's Tess of the D'urberville-esque characters tootling around in my head. Maybe it's the simplicity of 20th century life I crave, maybe it's just subliminal influencing... Either way, give them a warm welcome :)<br /><br /><strong>The dancer<br /></strong><br />Somewhere in-between those strings<br />and dancing fingers,<br />that melody was made;<br />as she moved slowly – in his shadow –<br />he closed his eyes and played.<br />Dressed in lace, and floating cotton,<br />she drummed bare feet upon the glades;<br />her rhythmic, warm and kindly welcome,<br />to the dusk at end of day.<br />But when his loving tune of tribute<br />sends dehydrated tears along her face,<br />then he hums,<br />a thousand heart-string memories,<br />and remembers dancing days.<br /><br /><br />(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2011Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-18182891825222985362011-03-03T23:50:00.004+00:002011-03-04T00:11:59.151+00:00Synthetic synthesisYoohoo... I'm back!<br /><br />This latest offering has been rattling around in my head since November. It started out as lines 5 & 6 and remained that way until today. Not frustrating in the slightest! Enjoy :)<br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"><strong>Synthetic synthesis</strong><br /></span><br />Fibre-optic strands of blonde,<br />ribbon tied and helix-long,<br />dust-pink cheeks of innocence,<br />and velveteen unease.<br />Whispers unconditional,<br />of love, and sugared vitriol,<br />with petals blue, her blood runs cold;<br />and smile contrived; diseased.<br />Cardice stem of shattered green,<br />on scattered silk looks so obscene,<br />a reflection’s rarely what it seems:<br />my perfect English Rose.<br /><br />(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2011Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-9187277337047472832010-11-13T02:15:00.004+00:002010-11-13T02:25:27.787+00:00ExpensiveSearching for ‘Ink Champagne’ on Google (or other such delightful search engine) will bring up a number of results. Mainly, it asks: <em>‘did you mean to search for Pink Champagne?’</em> And, if the answer to that is ‘yes,’ then I wouldn’t blame you – I’m quite partial to a few bubbles myself! But another popular search returned, is: <em>‘Ink more expensive than Champagne.’</em><br /><br />All that led me here: 45 million ink cartridges hit UK landfill every year… 45 million in the UK alone! (I thank <a href="http://www.cartridgeworld.co.uk/">http://www.cartridgeworld.co.uk/</a> for that stat.)<br /><br />This reminded me about the WEEE Man. Over 7m tall and built from 3.3 tonnes of electrical waste that an <strong>average person produces in a lifetime,</strong> I want to go and see him some day. For the time being I visit him here: <a href="http://weeeman.org/">http://weeeman.org/</a> or on Google images to remind myself I am a consumer and, like it or not, I’m nurturing one of these babies of my own.<br /><br />Intro over… Here it is:<br /><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ffffff;">Expensive</span></strong><br /><br />Why are we building giant robots?<br />over seven metres high!<br />An electronic, silent army,<br />being assembled out of sight<br /><br />How can we create monsters?<br />who feast on Mother Earth<br />And in payment for her sweetness:<br />we plant our metal seeds in dirt<br /><br />When they rise up from the ashes<br />those piles of rust and solder might<br />Just stand and watch us from the shadows;<br />soldiers blocking out the light<br /><br />Who calls time on all this madness?<br />Three tonnes turns so quickly into four...<br />Our ‘disposable’ generation<br />can surely take no more<br /><br /><br />(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2010Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-8168695028153752402010-11-11T15:32:00.003+00:002010-11-11T15:57:47.684+00:00ArmisticeEvery year; humbled.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ffffff;">Armistice </span></strong><br /><br />Viscid in dreadful sentiment,<br />with badges tacked upon his sleeve<br />Medals fixed unto his breast,<br />through history books <em>we</em> grieve<br /><br />Though history’s not forgotten;<br />time, no opiate for pain<br />Our eyes may not have witnessed,<br />but we do not take in vain<br /><br />To those we owe our freedom;<br />those now, and long since gone,<br />I’ll pin, with pride, my poppy,<br />at the setting of the sun.<br /><br />(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2010Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-18098033982910050462010-11-09T14:08:00.002+00:002010-11-09T14:13:33.355+00:00Thank you‘Thank you’ is a simple phrase<br />But to me it means so much<br />I want to let you know right now<br />Your kindness left me touched<br /><br />Take this as a token<br />I’m sending this to say<br />‘Thank you’ seems so simple<br />When you really made my day!<br /><br />(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2010Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-22408242868913341132010-11-08T15:29:00.001+00:002010-11-08T15:31:17.958+00:00TwitterIt’s amazing what a 10 minute free-write can produce!<br /><br />Now the pumpkin pie is mouldy,<br />and the toffee apple’s burnt,<br />November nights are drawing in without the fireworks<br /><br />December days are nearly here;<br />and with them bringing festive cheer –<br />a reminder that another year, will soon be on its way<br /><br />So 2010 is nearly done; eleven, not-quite yet begun,<br />this year I wrote lots; just for fun,<br />and created my own page<br /><br />If you like the things I write, regularly read, or peruse my site<br />Share the link with friends-alike;<br />I ‘Tweet’ as <strong>Ink_Champagne</strong><br /><strong></strong><br />(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2010Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-88266270961732730762010-11-08T13:42:00.004+00:002010-11-08T14:40:09.626+00:00This cityI challenged myself to write a poem which illustrates a juxtaposition. It's slept easily and lay dormant for far too long in this PC, so here it is:<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ffffff;">This city<br /><br /></span></strong>He walks tall but stands unnoticed;<br />sadness pulses in his veins,<br />then the rain falls from the heavens, and he’s<br />homeward bound again<br /><br /><em>Lights shine bright and unforgiving,<br />illumined glitz absorbed by night<br />casts deep shadows on the busy;<br />our city sleeps tonight </em><br /><br />His attractive face once jaunty<br />is now painted slick with pain,<br />he sits sheltered in a doorway, and he’s<br />homeward bound again<br /><br /><em>Metal bones and sleek glass towers<br />house cosmopolitan delights,<br />within the heart of human hubbub;<br />our city dreams tonight<br /></em><br />He rests at feet of strangers; and waits<br />to see the day that it’s not concrete<br />for his pillow, and he’s<br />homeward bound again<br /><br />For now the two are allied;<br />like our moon is linked to sun,<br />yet it's not fated like the stars are;<br />you can help to break that bond<br /><br />So if ‘homeward bound,’ to you, means one thing,<br />and you want to close your eyes,<br />they'll still be there in the morning...<br /><em>sleep well; sweet dreams,</em> <em>good night.</em><br /><br />(c) Jane Edwards 2010Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-38614601902930128472010-10-09T00:53:00.002+01:002010-10-09T00:58:19.345+01:00Quote, un-quoteFrancis Xavier's quote: <em>Give me a child until he is seven and I will give you the man</em>, got me thinking. As a result, here's my latest offering.<br /><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ffffff;">Quote, un-quote</span></strong><br /><br />She scratched the quill across his face,<br />each stroke an invisible tattoo, meticulously<br />layered, to reveal<br />a watery reflection.<br />Yet even when the feather stops moving, the words continue<br />to curl and knot into his flesh, like bindweed;<br />roots of black ink creep, as ivy,<br />around his bones.<br />They continue to stretch and twist, unceasing,<br />until compacted, then overflow and snap to release an<br />alphabet of iron filings which tumble,<br />for others to breathe in, and commit to memory.<br />His etched young carbons compressed into being;<br />ready designed to view the world, with an early choice:<br />thrash those weeds with a sickle, or let the ink<br />flow freely through his veins.<br /><br /><br />Poem copyright (c) Jane Edwards 2010.Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-54944023210208004422010-10-04T00:57:00.002+01:002010-10-04T01:07:20.786+01:00Woldgate woodsInspired by the series of paintings by a certain David Hockney, this one's for you Denise!! :)<br /><br />Woldgate woods<br /><br /><br />The fire-trees stand tall and bony,<br />shedding redding-autumn leaves<br />crying crispy tears of crimson<br />to knit a blanket at their feet<br /><br />How they hate this change of season,<br />yet know it's only just begun<br />though now lonely, pull together,<br />and pray silently for sun<br /><br />More ligneous than luscious; a foliage reprieve<br />until the first few buds of spring offer chance to shoot new leaves<br />then the fire-trees are happy<br />when they know they'll once again stand green<br /><br />Copyright (c) Jane Edwards 2010Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-29305000804757131502010-09-15T21:26:00.003+01:002010-09-15T21:53:31.885+01:00Penny for your thoughts'Penny for your thoughts,' he says, face shadowed,<br />but I discern a glint.<br />The pomp faded some thirty years before, and now<br />he sits; legs covered with itchy crocheted patches - days spent counting<br />the raindrops.<br />My mouth pulls towards my taut left cheek as I search-<br />for words. There are none, so my shoulders rise, and fall,<br />in answer.<br />Gifted raconteur, he disturbs torpid air with sing-song tales of his<br />wife and an enchanting account of my childhood. A priceless treasure,<br />overlooked and nestled between the other discarded;<br />brittle with wisdom and accustom to the ephemeral acceptance<br />which is youth.<br />I'm still learning; apologetic that I didn't<br />graciously accept that penny when offered the chance.<br />I would be richer for it.<br /><br />(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2010Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-85786307533854713852010-08-29T23:43:00.001+01:002010-08-29T23:43:57.525+01:00RecollectionFull of creepy bugs and covered in moss,<br />I knew it even then; with infant eyes:<br />when it rained, the algae would turn my clothes green<br />and mother crimson.<br />On summers days it scratched my legs as I made daisy chains<br />and served as a goalpost with its jacket-buddy;<br />a timeless hero to the generations.<br />I wonder if that log knew how much it was loved –<br />incorporated; a childhood hub.<br />Had it known it would be severed from its roots;<br />removed from its coppice family – status downgraded from tree to log –<br />would it have volunteered its fate?<br />Knowing that one day<br />it would jog just one child’s memory<br />and make that child smile.<br />I hope so.<br /><br />(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2010Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-10697364047096414642010-08-28T15:42:00.004+01:002010-08-29T23:54:30.869+01:00Kick the can (haiku)Someone will pick it up soon, surely? Though it has proved an unintended muse!<br /><br />Aluminium skin:<br />noisy tumbleweed -<br />chivvied by brazen currents.<br /><br />(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2010Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-13098862356548588362010-08-28T01:56:00.003+01:002010-11-11T22:57:17.995+00:00La lunaI've been moongazing tonight. This is what I saw.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ffffff;">La luna</span></strong><br /><br />Our moon is bright tonight;<br />through whispers of clouds, it bathes,<br />makes darkness heavy and eyes sparkle<br />casts spell on serenity and bustle without bias<br />and as crescents of chalky water gently lap:<br />illumines us equally, though we are distant<br /><br />That’s why I love you, Brother of Sun.<br /><br />Our moon is bright tonight;<br />a cosmic sentry, trusted to remain when the Neon’s and Argon’s fade,<br />purified chills soothe scorched earth<br />icon of romance,<br />you join us when we are apart:<br />a lunar reminder<br /><br />And that’s why I love you.<br /><br /><br />(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2010Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-81874241809150603192010-08-19T22:33:00.003+01:002010-08-19T22:45:54.120+01:00What do you think?Inspired by the fantastic works of Antony Gormley - (in specific the sculpture called 'three thoughts'), I created my latest offering in ode to the genius that he is.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"><strong>What do you think?</strong></span><br /><br />What’s in a thought and how is it free -<br />do our visions confine how you and I see?<br />A bubble of air or a strand of your soul;<br />an imprinted record in the rings of your bones?<br />Should they fly, could you catch them – and tie them to stone;<br />then be judged on intentions of actions untold?<br />If thoughts were a colour, what hue would they be;<br />are pessimists blue and optimists green?<br />To consider iniquity, does it make you bad;<br />or add to your virtue when you fail to act?<br />When a thought turns to memory,<br />where does it go?<br />There’s one thing for sure:<br />nobody knows.<br /><br />(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2010Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-50264917088312694242010-08-07T22:50:00.004+01:002010-08-07T23:21:54.500+01:00Choose lifeThis one took me a week to write. I tried a different style and chose a subject which I vehemently loathe. I'm sure I don't need to say I'm wholly opposed to any sort of crime. But I am, and I will.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"><strong>Choose life</strong></span><br /><strong><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span></strong><br />The candyfloss kid,<br />chews gristle; grinds bone.<br />the Noughties, a decade marked<br />out as his own,<br />he knows-not of a place he<br />can safely call home,<br />yet this child just<br />turned out a light.<br /><br />Talented tearaway – as<br />with trains on a track –<br />from one simple action,<br />there’s no going back;<br />a harrowing, unprovoked<br />vicious attack. This<br />baby, he carried a knife.<br /><br />To the fear collector, he,<br />in tears, paid his dues,<br />though family and friends –<br />they paid them too, when<br />his victim expired, so<br />did his youth. The decision<br />stays with him; for life.<br /><br />A sorrowful tale<br />of years behind bars; a<br />sickening cycle,<br />such indelible scars.<br />When he chose the steel,<br />he broke his mothers heart;<br />don’t make this mistake:<br /><strong>think twice.</strong><br /><br />Think twice for<br />the suffering you’d cause your<br />‘foes’; lives that will change because<br />of ‘cross-words’, we’re all<br />born to live and breathe in this<br />world, the answer: no violence;<br /><strong>choose life.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br />(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2010Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-89481107232076196582010-08-02T23:51:00.002+01:002010-08-03T00:11:07.395+01:00Stop and smell the flowersPretty, neat snowdrops,<br />the first ones of spring,<br />sweet petal petticoats;<br />of velvety skin,<br />heads bowed like Angels;<br />too weary to sing,<br />crispy green clothing prevails.<br /><br />Leaves tinged with ice,<br />they shine Lunar white,<br />a delicate honey;<br />scented carpet of white,<br />small nodding flowers;<br />a major delight:<br />The first pretty snowdrops of spring.<br /><br />(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2010Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-5475951755400257982010-08-01T15:30:00.002+01:002010-08-01T19:04:08.982+01:00My releaseOn second thoughts, I'd better introduce this one. My mother gave me the topic of rain. Perhaps she was thinking of that light and fluffy 50's film 'Singing in the Rain.'<br /><br />Instead, she got this:<br /><br /><strong>My release</strong><br /><br />Dry as the air; parched is my tongue,<br />I wait for the day when the tropic rains come,<br />Sore is my skin; blistered by sun,<br />Wash me free<br /><br />Wash me free from the confines of sinew and bone;<br />This carcass a place that my soul calls its home,<br />I wait for the day when the tropic rains come,<br />Let me breathe<br /><br />Let me breathe in the fire, that's burning my throat,<br />As it cascades in rivulets and relieves me of hope,<br />I wait for the day when the tropic rains come,<br />Hear my screams<br /><br />Hear my screams for the rainfall; a monsoon awake,<br />With the storm now approaching I feel myself shake,<br />This is the day when the tropic rains come,<br />I am free<br /><br />Free from the evils of what they call life,<br />Purged from my vessel; like a moth to the light,<br />The tropic rains stop once they sense my delight:<br />My release<br /><br />(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2010Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3881038200283012196.post-87717004566292437062010-07-31T23:10:00.015+01:002010-08-01T22:51:17.729+01:0021st Century LivingA wide, wooden table is burgeoning with treats,<br />Stood looking through the window is a girl that never eats<br /><br />Not through a disorder, or mysterious disease,<br />But pure and simple poverty, over sick and evil greed<br /><br />With distended gut that's plain to see, all look; but walk on by,<br />As their stares become aversion, she begins to cry<br /><br />Face resting on the window, bare-feet turning in to ice,<br />A sister stands forgotten, in the cruel class divide<br /><br />She didn't ask, but doesn't moan - for this simply is her life,<br />But wish-oh-wish upon a star, she does night after night<br /><br />Oily rags which drape her bones, are threadbare; non-distinct,<br />When one fine and kindred gentleman - in pity - takes her in<br /><br />She feasts upon the delights; as munificent his hand,<br />Now saved from ethereal, she's a daughter of the land<br /><br />But what of the forgotten; those suffering this plight?<br />Well, they too stare through those windows. And barely just survive.<br /><br />(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2010Ink Champagnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17459163638589699304noreply@blogger.com9