Hope Dunlop-Lynn

Masquerade I

When the lights lower, when the world rests, and when humanity is isolated in privacy; where do the birds go?

City lights obstruct the stars, and concrete replaces grass.

Phones light up the faces of those escaping into dreams.

Can we run into the sea anymore?

Time and paper become God.

We rule the walls encapsulating our bodies as the birds roam free.

Chain saw.

The bird no longer has a home.

Uranium.

Humanity no longer has a home.

Shrapnel.

Escape.

They tell us escape.

Where shall we fly?

Shall we go to the moon.

The moon shall explode with the sun.

The sky shall go dark, and the paper will no longer have meaning.

Allow the cat to meow and the wolf to cry for us as we can no longer talk.

Voices drown in sirens.

Time moves.

What has come before? After?

Where shall we lay when the world is burning?

Love. Hope. Fear. Work. Live. Cry. Dream. Laugh, and wake up.

We shall become the birds and the trees.

Love those close and float into meaning in the meaningless.

Balance exposure and privacy.

Run free and run through the walls.

Climb and fall.

Experience the birds in flight and fly after them into the sun until the sun can no longer burn.

Hide in the veins of the leaves left behind.

Stand behind the disconnected columns and hug the lion.

Blame the pointed finger resting upon the red button or the gasses spilling from chimneys.

Live with nature or swim in the tsunami.

Throw a blanket over your eyes and forget.

Will you run into outstretched arms or stand still?

Avoid. Work. Sleep. Hear the screams and have sex.

Live until you cannot breathe and do not look back.

Sit within the metal of the 17th floor.

Look down.

Look up.

Touch the clouds and fall to the earth.

Everything. Nothing. All at once.

Peculiar Company

If the light were to dim and the circle disappear, what would hide in the dark?

Sitting in exposure,

We may pull the cord,

Claw the walls,

Pick up the fork and idle the knife,

Do our bodies relay the story of our minds?

Search for material where none exists,

Search for a voice where only grunts exhale in silence,

Cover our bodies and turn to animals,

Drink the wine and eat the food, but where do we remain?

Is our humanity within the seclusion of walls or burrowed in street corners?

Consume, converse and conceal.

Fight with fading reality, or glue our hands back on,

Play with cards and hope for a favourable pull,

Gamble that we know best,

Kill and relax.

Switch off pixels,

Ignore what explodes outside the walls.

Close curtains,

Stare at what is in front of you and realise,

We are no longer mammals,

For we may tell stories of connection,

Of gender.

But when genitalia is stripped away, and we face humanity,

What sits in front of us?

What can be created?

You may get boys to play with bunnies,

Or be rather pig-headed,

But we no longer see animals in the mirror, for we have transformed.

Laugh for we are no longer true and sit in your chair and drink your wine and eat your food.

Say to your partner that they have become rather peculiar,

And for that,

The fork lands in the pig’s head.

For the pig does not understand what he has become.

Bench I

Sit on me and look,

Please look,

And look hard,

For one day your eyes will no longer see,

For the days of dancing on me are over,

The music is gone,

The lights are now bright,

The summer air is whispering outside.

Yet I still hold memories of days long past and of those now laying still,

Yet, I am still here.

Allow for a moment,

Maybe two,

Drown yourself in paint,

See the colours,

And be still,

For you have the right to move,

And I am asking you to stay.

Stay with me a while.

Allow for more memories to be built upon my grain.

For I was alive,

I thrived and grew,

I nurtured and died,

The memories are held underneath you,

For I have witnessed countless dances, falls, tears, first kisses, births and seasons,

For I have had more than one life,

For now, we intertwine,

And for a moment I am conscious.

I have a new life,

My purpose to allow you to gaze upon the hands that built me,

For now, we are one,

I shall serve you now and in my next life,

For I do not have one purpose nor choice,

For I may burn tomorrow and transform these moments into embers,

For I am the wood,

And I am asking you to use eyes I cannot to stay and be still with me,

Just for a moment.

For long ago the birds used to sing on my arms.

You’ll Never be a Zebra

Zebra, oh zebra,

How can I be you?

My clothes are all striped and my head is like you.

I’ve waited and waited,

Oh boy have I tried,

But my skin is not striped,

And neither my mind.

You fight and laugh and trundle along,

But I cannot keep up.

I’ve tried for so long.

My legs do not trundle,

And my arms do not fight,

My body is too light,

For me to fight to be you.

Zebra, oh zebra,

How can I be you?

I grew up waiting to transform into you,

But your sounds are so mean,

Your actions too,

And it is far too late for me to not become you.

So, I swallow my sounds,

And I trundle along,

And I hope for the day I will find my own song,

Until then, I will try to prolong,

And I will hope that the colours will not be gone,

For becoming a zebra does not have a song.

Zebra, oh zebra,

Please free me from you?

It is far too late for me to become just like you.

Call a Priest

The egg has now cracked,

The chick is gone,

The knives sharpened,

And bodies taunt.

The light is not dim,

The head is bowed down,

The hair has gone grey,

The wrinkles formed.

The walls are now melting,

The pug has no crown,

The body of a chicken,

Cannot run for too long.

The fate of an animal is seldom cruel,

They are happy and cheerful,

Grazing along,

For the body of an animal is never killed.

For the church would agree,

To lie – a sin,

For the body of man thrives in their wings,

So, we take their lives and our own too.

As the fate of man is always cruel,

We are happy and cheerful,

Running along,

For the body of man has more than one form.

Turn Dial

When the parameters of which we build upon turn,

We shall soar through the sky,

Push the clouds over our eyes,

Look down upon the mountains and cities,

And wish our wings to fly us away.

The world shall turn,

And the mountains shall shift,

The bridges shall fall,

But our dreams shall remain.

Not above or below but within.

The rivers will become sky,

The roads will become rivers,

The mountains will become rooms,

The rooms will become land,

And our wings will become clouds.

Our memories will blend with dreams,

And these dreams will allow our bodies to guide,

Even when we do not know the world,

And it seems it has shifted,

So, the stars shall pull us down.

Awaken into reality,

For reality is unknown,

The future untold,

And meaning unresolved,

There is no guide in this world but your own.

So, fly into the clouds,

Allow them to envelop you in their arms,

As they fly you on a path,

As there is no one path in the stars,

On earth.

And for now,

And for as long as you sit upon these clouds,

Above the world,

This path is your own.

So, you shall soar through the sky.