Literary Vegan

Disappointment comes - Putting my hand out for falling stars  That called to me - Then they miss. Water can burn - The sting  Of you not liking The beautiful thing I did.  Then someone will see me, In my creation And I walk through the hurt Into the universe I was meant to live in. LJ Ireton 

You knelt here,  Asking for signs. No candle or crucifix appears Now, But how much more sacred Is this space For how you paused, Soul to the fragile window?  Your string pearls, possessions, They slithered through traitor's hands Down and out of these rooms But the muttering of prayers Imprints on a place - Or flutters somewhere Men can't reach. Carved out of a castle,  This cove has sensory history -  Just add the smoke, incense, or Touch the wood, tangible. But a spirit trying to transcend these panels Is like me imagining you here Through centuries - The wanting to connect Is eternal.  LJ Ireton

I can't remember the songs I chose, Or when it was,  Who exactly was in the audience. But I remember my dress: Black with Aztec  Diamond streams, strapless,  Skirts to the floor -  Because I held your bouquet of flowers against it under the spotlight For the first time. It was an extension of me -  I cradled perfumed dreams In plastic skirts that night, My arms held film memories, Revealed in white hydrangea  Of applause and rewards on stage. How many times had I performed  And never felt this way? All because you Gave me flowers. LJ Ireton  2022

I stroked the head of a calf Saved from slaughter, Settled in the straw but still unsure Of what life is.  With the lightest touch of my hand On his soft forehead,  Despair weighed down on my soul That the other young cows were gone, And willed so. Not I.  I try to communicate this to him -  That I get my heart kicked by human feet under white tablecloths, That I'd rather my heart be on a stable floor covered in mud and hay, anyway. There is loneliness in reverence  For his life -  But not for him.  LJ Ireton 

Let's go for a drink, you said Dangling our whole relationship  In a five word thread above The pub door More than you'd said in days. I always hoped,  Always,  Saw mistletoe when you smiled - White berries for red warnings And every mistake That flowered too late In my mind. Where was I then? The girl who holds the World in her words, Suspended my time waiting for yours -  I wish I'd poured that drink over your head. LJ Ireton  

The raindrops are ticks of their own clock Time drips by when you're watching And the seconds make no sense Which is why Storms can be comforting A lull of irregular beats When you stop Marching. LJ Ireton

There are those who have waited Ugly long years to become a butterfly  Too afraid to lift a wing at first -  But learning their arms now Flare with flags like a herald's trumpet, Cannot help but flash every colour In defiance against plain glass Staining it with the blue-green joy Of becoming,  The red of being,  Sealing the waiting cracks with amber A benevolent balm, A hint. And there are those who don't like it. They do not understand lightness In a heavy world, surrounded by stones. You say, 'neither did I, I carved waves and eyes marking time before my flight'. But you are fanciful, they say. And so you fold your wings, Become a furious line Of amber gold Remembering Every single time you weren't yourself And this time you fly With resistance  And all the more Reason.  LJ Ireton 

Fierce, little heart take courage Let your feelings flow In a stolid place Your tears are a brewing storm A distilling of the truth that is yours Rising to the surface  Listen to it  And water the dry, dry earth. LJ Ireton 

The full moon has come, But clouds float over her face -  Allowing us only flashes of Neon pearl light. When we try to show our true selves, Jealous shadows will crawl. The moon isn't daunted by eclipsing wisps, As dark as they are. How do I find that self-assured gleam Of the moon coming from my own skin? Her immortal energy I lack - How does she not tire of the tendrils Crossing her vision? Maybe what covers her serves her still -   In the art of revealing more Than clear skies ever could. LJ Ireton 

The world is very bright, Even the grey mornings. Each person is a spark of energy - A story hovers over them like an aura. Even standing still, I need to gather my responses, Animal instincts overwritten  With theatrical instruction. My electricity is colourful  You love the explosion -  And I love the show  The performance of eyes, The magic making a mouth move.  You say that is life,  Stop hiding. I say art settles on a page. If I want to sit on the gallery bench Staring at my own painting in the dark Then I will.  LJ Ireton

The crown's exquisite diamonds sparkled, Speaking to everyone. In a sombre room of echoing steps, They outshone the candle tips, Sparks in soldier's staffs.  They are living in this moment of death - Lights of a life heavy to wear, prepared For shining - a song still singing freely above  The set strikes of timed sticks, The solemn clock of ceremony. They have seen history  And tell us now Of Kings and Queens Become monuments -  These jewels in breath or statue  Are always blinking. LJ Ireton 

And so Autumn blows a browning breath  Into the streets, around the tops of trees And days of sea salt are mined into memory. Arms and leaves start to fold,  But creation is a constant energy About to be found In dreams, on sheets, in sounds While the soil sleeps under  Red bowed heads. LJ Ireton 2022

I was taught that The clouds are like our thoughts  They come and go They thunder, they accuse They shelter, they surprise But the sky above them stays the same - Watches them stir, big and beautiful, frightening - Aware, but above the stream of movement.  So our minds must be. My mind can be a catastrophe, often. But occasionally I catch a glimpse  Of the grey clouds sailing Whether they like it or not They float, like the pretty ones, Onwards.  C. LJ Ireton 

Open the door. The crisp, early morning breeze Wants to kiss you with promise. Not the kind that can be broken, But hope that flies on molecules Awakening everything it touches -  From distant mountain dwellers and herds To anxious souls in the city, hands Around a cup of tea, faces to the sky.  LJ Ireton 

No-one can resist the duckling -  Still fluffy, stubby wings Jumping each stone step out of the water -  Two webbed feet together, Bobbing under a brown cotton cloud. Everyone, everyone makes 'ooh' and 'aaaah' sounds. They adore. Elsewhere, in sheds, surplus to the human demand for eggs, Hundreds of chicks chirp in crates - Tipped and sorted into steel jaws.  LJ Ireton 

  The miniature teacup wobbles, But won't stain the carpet.  We trip and fall outside, But not in the doll's house. Here the perfume bottle - That scent of a broken heart Creates a glass dressing table For the daydreaming doll And the disordered, thorny garden of tears Provides thimble rose baths For the tiny ones. Placing matchbox beds in order, We tap the tiny heads of Ourselves,  Knowing they are safe.  For a moment, we know a petal blanket In a world That can be fixed with superglue.  LJ Ireton 

We are drawn to the heights of the sky at night - The flickering stars, that original magic That is so far from us it never fades.  Tonight my cat and I look up at the Tiny dots of light, myself wishing, Her wondering - And I realise, more beautiful than  The animal shapes pinned to that dark fabric Is the company of her spirit, Watching the stars with me.  LJ Ireton 

The dolls are happy in their parlour - Their painted expressions say so, Anyway. And they are loved -  Love is time, patience and placing them Carefully on crafted chairs For miniature people. Protected from the heat of the Sun, Uncertainty and playground enemies  What could they want for? Yet they always seem to be Looking beyond - A glaze in their eyes Behind the tiny teapot Like some days They want to smash predictability  And sweep it under the gowns  They didn't choose to wear. LJ Ireton 2022

I think of all the scared, suffering animals I can't reach - On roads, in trucks,  On the other side of human understanding. My small hands can't cross over Disconnection. I touch my cat's forehead with my own - As if that can channel a message  To all creatures - perhaps it can. But if it can't -  For all my helplessness, One animal will know it is loved. LJ Ireton 2022

Yes, I know that I am capable And that I could create this and that  And all the things you mention - But I like doing this. And that should be enough. LJ Ireton 2022.

I find myself in buildings Where I can't be barefoot  Among the lavender, Inside where constellations Don't reach, Among adults Who see glitter as dust To be hoovered up. I want to leave more beauty,  More reflections of the light In every place  And moment  That I find. I want to regrow the garden With elements of space And watch you wonder  As words reveal stars And electric lights, The Universe. Some people can see through walls. And some need windows They didn't know  Existed. LJ Ireton 

It is a thirsty, yellow hot morning. My thoughts are squandered, flat under the heat Struggling to grow ideas, I look up and I see the moon - A hovering hologram from the black hours. I am relieved for the reminder Of the night world - The dreams about beckoning green seas And hastening purple skies, All the magic that comes to me in the mysterious dark. If the Sun allows a ghost Moon, Midnight inspiration must also be somewhere, Lingering in the arid day. LJ Ireton 

He still sleeps directly over my heart - The way he did as a tiny cat  With fluffy stick-up fur and surprised blue eyes.  Sleek, long and amber now, with a deep, loud, purr,  His long paw rests across my chest.  'Mum' he says, By laying down his head,  Tucking his chin into my heartbeat. LJ Ireton 

Once on the page, Your creation lives. The tea party Never sleeps And someone, Somewhere Will be Pulling  Up A Chair. LJ Ireton

The quiet child in the corner, reading, Is strong -  They are facing a giant of some kind, Slaying it in silence. LJ Ireton

I rub at my skin Suddenly not knowing  The blood sparkling  Underneath. Poison lurks there, bubbling, Burning every belief I had - Even of what poison is. I try to touch all the things I was told - Hold on to the shape of me in my head But all ideas fall through my fingers now With the hot desert sands Scratching My senses, My self. One minute of magic  Has undone me. Deep, deep under my bones A sleeping history has awaken - Looking like the enemy. My worst fear crawls, rises to the surface - And I'm afraid of what I see. But even worse,  I'm afraid that I like it. (Inspired by Rose in Twin Crowns) C. LJ Ireton 2022

At Twilight the solar lamps  Turn on in the park - Happy to take on the night shift. The buttercups and daisies Are bright yet Around the water, The atmosphere floating down, Darker. The Moorhen chicks meep, Scooting into the reeds to retreat As rain starts to drip on the pond. I sit in this liminal time On a bench While calm hovers But some power wakes. My thoughts are like the insects I can see clearly on the  Paths with no people -  Free to crawl out Searching for something  Trying to describe Why they like this time  So much.  LJ Ireton 

'Get in, Move your limbs' Is the only thing You can think Entering Cold water, Blood waking To the call of the lake - A small goldfish in a bag Waiting For the match The merging of form And release. 

The Spirit of Catherine Howard  1st June 2022 Drawn to the Light Press https://drawntothelightpress.com/issues/ Dark Horses Summer 2022 Mausoleum Press  https://www.mausoleumpress.com/issues The Final Sonnet of Mary Queen of Scots June 10th 2022 Acropolis Journal https://acropolisjournaluk.wixsite.com/acropolisjournal/issues  The Trees The Imperfect Minotaur July 2022 Cerasus Magazine   https://cerasusmagazine.com/magazines/