The Colour of Spring

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

There a flash – yellow – clowning in mid-February – our foolish fault – a false overwintering for spring-tricked innocents – bringing slow recalls of others’ tales of good luck indicated by such arrivals – or was it about good times – or was it about a sure proximity of death? Leviticus found leprosy in...


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14th February 2019

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Held by a red signal in south London – in a balloon of wifi – of library silence – this being a price-hiked compartment – a restricted remnant of empire days still served up by rail franchisees as our ticket collector mis-quotes WS – Juliet’s soft words as cuffed banter towards serving staff – parting...


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A Bull Ring Recital

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Into God’s house below the Bull Ring – it offers automatic doors which open to a wild piano recital before empty pews – set C of E stiff – aligned and tuned to religious creaks – here only stained sunlight warms as fat chattering volunteers spit in tongues – the pianist is subsumed by her...


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Quaecunque*

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

England now seethes
and demands the return
of old ways
in the face of the subtle
invasion
of the German-led nations .../


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Valentine’s

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

I just took a taste of my waking breath -
it is no wonder then that we do not kiss .../


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Matrilocal

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Am I not uxorious enough?
I just read you my last poem
and it was met by a hush -
as if I had said nothing -
I know you said nothing .../


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Utter

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

I have always suffered
a mild clumsiness -
just now - trying to read
that line back - aloud -
it got rooted in my mouth .../


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Hamilton Place

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

The tin top cottages
should be haunted - but there is no ghost -
no made-pail Hoogstraten .../


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In Earshot

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

I stopped - I heard the playful howls -
the breaktime hollers from a school -
but my ear-to-the-past
was then frittered by the wind's shift .../


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The First Racing Turn

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

We can start with the basics -
the lifting and full leans on oars -
but before long we will have to dig
and pull at less certain surfaces .../


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