Falling Stars

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 

Mary's Oratory

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

White Hydrangea

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

Meeting the rescued calf

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 

Mistletoe

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
 

Rain time

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

Stained glass

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 

Storm

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 

Clear Skies

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 

In Defense of Introverts

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

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 

Autumn

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

Onwards

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 

A Morning Kiss

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 

Adoration

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 Doll's House

 
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 

My cat and I watching the stars

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

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

Helpless

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

Enough

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.

Prayer

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 

Ghost Moon

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 

Otus is a chest cat

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 

The Tea Party

Once on the page,
Your creation lives.
The tea party
Never sleeps
And someone,
Somewhere
Will be

Pulling 
Up
A
Chair.

LJ Ireton

Fairytale

The quiet child in the corner, reading,
Is strong - 
They are facing a giant of some kind,

Slaying it in silence.

LJ Ireton

A Sleeping History

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

The park pond at twilight

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 

Cold Water

'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. 

Upcoming poems and where to find them

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/