Disguise.
Poetry © 2021 by Mark Burrow
Illustrations © by Jenya Stashkov
CONTENTS
I Camouflage
II Concealment
III Costume
IV Counterfeit
V Cover-up
VI Disguise
VII Dissimulation
VIII Façade
IX Faking
X Illusion
XI Make-believe
XII Masquerade
XIII Pseudonym
XIV False Front
XV Red Herring
Inspired by Dada sound poetry, in parts.
I
Blending in to your surroundings, the
Jacket you stole from the ammo shop
Worn by a Falklands War veteran,
You patiently wait with suspicious eyes.
Time stands amongst the trees, its
Pendulum swinging in the breeze, its
Accuracy fluctuating, you
Are losing track of time. Existence
Blends in to your surroundings, no one
Notices you, no one knows you, no one
Knows you exist, camouflage wasted
On you, you continue to patiently wait.
II
What’s that in my hand?, you ask.
What’s that in my hand, my hand
In my pocket, in my hollowed
Pocket, in my hand, in my pocket,
In my hollowed pocket, a life I conceal
From all, everyone, everyone,
Everyone. My life of concealment.
III
You chose an outfit this morning.
You chose what to wear this morning.
This morning you made decisions,
Decisions made this morning. This
Morning you re-joined society.
Society stares at you outdoors.
Outdoors you stroll in costume. In
Costume you are neither the same
As them or different from them. In
Costume you are not not not you.
IV
I copied them all myself.
I copied them alone, in
Secret. Secretly, I copy,
I live in secret, I have
Them concealed in my pocket,
An unhollowed fully stitched
Fully secure pocket. I leave.
I leave for the outside, leave
My secrets behind, meet you
Behind the counter, me in front.
We make the exchange. Yours, real.
Mine, counterfeit, counterfeit.
V
Reality is real for you
Until someone tells you something
Different about reality.
Someone tells you something else
About reality, you
Start to believe differently.
Manipulation, influence,
You don’t understand their meaning.
Reality: one big cover-up.
VI
I like not to be pinned down,
Like not to be pigeonholed,
Like not to be judged, like to be
Different everyday. Different:
I live each day in disguise.
VII
Scared to be judged,
You bury your voice.
You bury your voice
Deep in your opinion’s
Underground. Scared
To be judged, you’d
Rather sit there
In silence, in silent
Dissimulation.
In silent, silent
Dissimulation
Until one day you
Share your thoughts, feelings
Emotions, no longer
To be judged, judged, judged.
VIII
Instead of admiring
My volute, rosette,
Acanthus, and leaf
Of my Corninthian
Orders, or the mouldings
Surrounding my frieze
In my Ionic order
Or the triglyph of
My Doric order,
You see though it all,
You don’t see my façade.
IX
Tonight you diverge
Away from how you’d
Normally speak;
Tomorrow converge
Towards how others
Speak. You find no
Social situation
Where you can be
Yourself, you spend
Your life faking.
X
I trust what I see until
I speak with them. Before
I spoke with them I trusted
What I saw with my eyes.
With my eyes I trust what
I see until I speak with
You: it all becomes an illusion.
XI
Instead of trusting your
Own eyes, you’d rather live
A life of make-believe.
XII
Instead of being myself,
I’d rather live in this world,
An obvious masquerade.
XIII
Instead of being proud of who
You are, you go by a different
Name. This is not your name;
This is not your name. Be
Proud of your name; be proud. Stop
Using your pseudonym.
XIV
I am now conscious
I have been living via
A false front. A fake
Façade. Yes, what lies
Behind my false front
Is by no means, by no
Means perfection. I tear
Down my false front so all
Can see the real, real me.
XV
You have learnt to spot
A red herring from long
Social distances.
You, from long social
Distances know how to
Spot a red herring.
Now, your view of this
World is different, different
And far more accurate.
XVI
I have learnt to spot
A smoke screen from long
Social distances.
Me, from long social
Distances, I know how
To spot a smoke screen.
Now my view of this
World is clearly different
With no need for disguise.
