Lossy

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

So this internet thing – it is not perpetual – those coded points are subjected to atrophy by compression – of post-reposts – a shrinking by interactions – a constant thinning – as offline moments thicken with time’s hand-hefted brushwork — see – original composition is super-fogged by varnished layers of obfuscations — My dark-slapped...


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Enclosed – Sheet of Instructions

By Mike Bell Poetry 1 comment

That parquet floor you laid – you refused to keep to Enclosed – Sheet of Instructions – It is now lifting and separating — Your brushed-off mistakes – of not taking time to bond – to glue – to set – are now a dozen fault-lines across our hall and living room — You have...


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Last Rites

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

His wife told him – on Sunday – that she bedded another man – last Monday – A bloke who – if named now – would see them both equally shamed – before their shared families – It’s almost bloody biblical – He said – It’s not their first go – at such stuff –...


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The Village Hall Players

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Three empty tables – without decorations – set equal – spaced with sweated men at squared-up ends – They are quick to each shot with fenced returns off slightly comical bats – facing up to their other – posed low in a mirror – with backhand – forehand and wrist flicks of a ball –...


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Future Stations

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

There will be no guards to help us board – There will be no carers to ease our sores – There will be no beds – no reposed hospice – There will be nil left – no whispered grace   Mike Bell Poetry Mike Bell aims to write 10,000 poems, stick them up here one...


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White Gloves

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Words are not field-dug hoards or fragile relics – to be held offline in bound spines – for those educated and up-it classes to have – to hold in cotton gloves – then returned to turned keys – & slid back into rosewood cabinets – We will own our every word   Mike Bell Poetry...


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Headliners

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Straight white men no longer headline poetry festivals – or spoken word sets – Their verse could poison if swallowed – best kept out of the reach of children Unless the poet is dead   Mike Bell Poetry Mike Bell aims to write 10,000 poems, stick them up here one at a time, and then take...


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Our Slack Dog Sleeps

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Our slack dog sleeps – again – under backlit performing particles – those flecks – peeled and rubbed – bare floating remnants of us in ramped tilts of warming beams – up there – fine speckles cavort against our sureness of earth’s old ways – under ageing theories of gravity – That free carnival of...


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Limping

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Here is a heel-scrape of composite on tarmac – it announces my approach – punctuated by my stick’s click of loosenings – of turned threads on its retractable – snappable – black shaft – And – by the way – how can I hold you with my love now limped by other indiscretions? It is...


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Sea Rowing

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

There – almost baiting us – ten thousand wind-ripped waves palpitated on the lake – but they are merely breeze-skipping ripples for us would-be sea fishers of much bigger catches – We are required to practice in such innocuous conditions – this millpond darkened stew – before that unknown swell beyond our harbour wall –...


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