Poetry Blogs (actors)

I wouldn’t trust a poet to draw machine gun fire

to run out into no-mans-land,

unless it was Orwell or Owen

they’d have their literary futures planned.

Stolen words lifted that roll off the tongue

plagiary gifted the soullessly dumb,

strutting and fawning in dimly lit bars

reciting their plunder like poetry Tzars. 

Train-line cheap tickets

off peak day sav...

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 Mirage

Beyond these indifferent walls

lies a second carapace,

pierced by small, green eyes

in a shimmering face.

It is not my own,

but lies are truths for actors;

they bandage wounds

when the liars rebel

while fleeing, open-mouthed,

from their savage selves.

Christopher Hubbard

Perth 2016

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