The Card Shark

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Today I faced up to The Future -
a rather distrustful chap -
he bowed low before my person -
but this man is full of such crap .../


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Bonfire of Certainties

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

A bonfire of all certainties
has been built under me -
of timbers - by unseen hands -
crossed over and lain
on a cold heart - that core
of devoutly-snapped sticks
.../


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A Very English Problem

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

when the inner scrape of your head is as soiled as the swallow in your mouth and your stomach revolts almost ready to reintroduce the Italian that swill in your gut another spill of red then you have finally lived Mike Bell Poetry Mike Bell aims to write 10,000 poems, stick them up here one...


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The Mower

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

He has cut the grass around Stonehenge for twenty summers, end-to-end, ever concentric, from outer to inner, he pulls out blades with the retreat of winter. He knows each slab, the Welsh-ness within, those dragged-erect stones and the truths they contain. As the mulch and spewed grass build high in his bin, the circling grass-cutter...


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Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam.

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

I delete another email
‘from Michael J. Fox’,
and his evangelist cry
that ‘PD rocks!’


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Downhill

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

He is accelerating
into a compression
of constant slowing
...


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Beaten

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

I half-stand ring-centred, in our squared kitchen, just upright, aware of the transmitted box of blows, these roundings upon me, and that scream-spat radio: Yes, I feel beaten, as though I should throw in my towel, now surrender, step down, no longer the heavyweight, me, the former title holder, in these endless rounds. Mike Bell...


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Radiohead

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

You tinsel town criers, signatory luvvies, calling for the blood of a band of brothers, crying out ‘gainst doing Tel Aviv this time, because the Israelis have fucked Palestine. “Make the contract in dollars give me everything I need, fuck the Palestinians, this gig’s all about me.” You actors, singers, and cultured orifices, would never pander...


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Postal Prayers

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Twice I have bantered with the postie today, such small talk is how I pray. Mike Bell Poetry Mike Bell aims to write 10,000 poems, stick them up here one at a time, and then take a nap. By then he should be about 85 years old and have out-gunned PD, dementia, and the end...


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Easter

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

God is on
St Theresa's side,
He guides her through
Brexitcide..


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