Humid

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

You could see the unexpected humidity in the weep of the trees almost a rainforest drip in the woods of Sussex and being tall I had to dip to avoid the damp stroke of lime leaf on my neck that of a sweated relative or grease-ball teacher. Underfoot the cinder path was an equal impact...


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No Rain

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

That kicked-up wild garlic hit was the mist through which the walk took them on that route, slow upstream, and then sloped above the low cut of rain-denied river. Each step was another distance which closed the gap between them. On his solitary return, under the dapple of sodium, over hard tarmac, the true nature...


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Kathy

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

For Kathy.

Kathy spoke for a minute,
it may have been less....


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06:34

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

That stillness feel it not even a clock no scrape of chair nothing dropped just me sat here in this echo hall with upright piano and parquet floor set below bays and the same break of day but offset by time and the tune we must play. Mike Bell Poetry Mike Bell aims to write...


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The Pile

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Every brick was identical and took the same grip in the lift from left to right, from the old pile to the new pile, in the repetitive task that I undertook – to clear the driveway of the builders’ detritus. Each heave was unique in time but same as the last, with slight variations at...


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Two Women

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

I met Makris and Demeter
bent over a half-inflated dinghy

and me, the old boy,
interrupted their labour
...


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Plye pen againe

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Under this reduced hand,
my writing slightly askew
...


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Cross

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

I will now deny the rich
their pleasured agenda
by switching off the media..


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The Thief – the Lover

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

He felt her ribs
(in his reading
of her body)
.../


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TN22

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Seven AM, just me and the dog, on the piled steps of the lifestyle shop, as an off-white van rumbles up the hill, leaving a rolled cloud of diesel ill-will, blaring inanity with windows wound down. A commuter snarls, bent into her frown, striding with a latte to catch the train, her life evaporating within...


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