Breakages Will Be Paid For

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

If we retune our focal point to close-up local degrees – before losses mount and tip – we will shore our existence Beauty is frail underfoot and to be stepped lightly upon – not a fixed distance of uncrushable listed hillsides Those huge labelled targets are easily miss-able Our urgent responsibility is in within our...


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Farming Today

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Under Glynde’s grey turbine I know I am irrelevant It is as if my chest’s creaks are now unsure ship timbers set grinding by lifts and turns of blown low pressures Her blades swoon over us in that signature revolution She asks of me a greater effort to stand for any time in her shadow...


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Inside My Lover

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

I am entertained inside her lento lungs -
travelling alone and partly dusk-blind -
within her low suck of cooling breath .../


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Pevensey Levels

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

The filleted contrails
meet at an equal
destination over there .../


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By Windover Hill

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

No rich patron for St Andrew's Church,
unmoved by digging at historical facts,
dropped, slumped, almost marooned,
leaving it off-centred on Alfriston's Tye..


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