The Surveyor, Online

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Her screen offerings in selfless forms
adorned or bare - she shared her allure

Of course - he preferred her nakedness
which so shamed his own rucked flesh .../


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Freelance

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

'Freelance' - when the body says the mind isn't clever


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The Fighting Temeraire

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Apart from the obvious creases, and immediate grey effects, a flabby jowl from rich indulgences, comes the breaking of our extents: Once loose, no plot, our lives, now rotting in unsure depths, so we face a towed-to future, to be beached in shallow dread: The Fighting Temeraire repeated on the walls of sheltered flats, reprints...


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F5

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

‘The years teach much which the days never know.’ Ralph Emerson Half a century has passed, of my oblivious education: Valves glowed behind Bakelite, those wireless invocations, mail was flap-rattled – some bore oddity stamps, wearing cent-priced strangers, sent from inky confidantes. My search was inherited, in spine-bust encyclopaedias: I learnt the word ‘concentric’, and...


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Medicinal Purposes

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

This empty bottle is the evening’s measure of my own drink units; I am going against the approved dosage, proving salubrious, whilst prescribed pills bring on such nausea, akin to a hangover. This morning’s disposal of that cleared bottle is my recycled marker, of an evening passed, to this new day blessed. Mike Bell Poetry...


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The Triangle

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Past that rough triangle off Heath Road, Weybridge, a slow junction lined by gloom-slimmed birches, these woods we all knew as the murder patch, where a woman was killed, his low theft gone wrong, and a foul faked rape by other thrust means, (facts then unknown): we kids were alive to her near place of...


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An Australian

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

An extra brother was found post-mortem, their mother lay shunted on a locked-in gurney; and so the drawer-hunt was left, aborted, stopped by finding of an unknown’s journey; ‘the solution back then’ export the rebus, her secret posted to an empire – still burning. Their┬ámother outlived him with her feelings, in the found letter, a...


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The Border

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Should we care that a man was held upon re-entry to Trump’s citadel? A real American, Muhammed Ali’s son, stopped at the border for his religion: Detained for beliefs, for his father’s choice, once the loudest, most American voice. Mike Bell Poetry Mike Bell aims to write 10,000 poems, stick them up here one at...


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The Storm

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

There, feel suspicion shifting, with  the volute of winds, drilled, air-cracked, this wooden floor, almost set lifting, with me tied-to, in Ulysses contract, waiting upon a messenger’s distract: A low across my nervous squall, you, my storm, could destroy this all. And I shall sleep through falling trees, as I did once before, in another...


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The Picture

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

That slightness in her captured self, artfulness in over-lit exposure: an eye upon her white skin, heightened by arts on her smooth canvas: to be closely examined, a laudatory touch in better conditions: now an old man’s job, to be the critic. Mike Bell Poetry Mike Bell aims to write 10,000 poems, stick them up...


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