Traditions

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

She has our crushed boxes
of wedding pictures
and our Christmas decorations - 

our cheap jewels brought out
on a shortened day -
a day requiring a ladder
.../


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Old comforts

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

has been withdrawn to leave my altered place hollowed – no valued fixtures – no matter what is placed within My cooking practices are poor – as you foresaw a year ago – when you said I’ll still look after you but I’ll be making love to someone else Mike Bell Poetry Mike Bell aims...


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Unforgiveable Acts

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Euphoria is only possible
by uncoupling from affray

She rolled me over so far
that I am now low... /


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Seaford Beach

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Do you want to sit on that strand
with me and my old sun-tarred men
of Seaford - bent to sipped coffees -
as Newhaven's headland is scorched? .../


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Working Girl

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

We briefly spoke -
it was a Monday
and you were out
in Central London
sounding slightly
drunk - three gins
and it was done .. /


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Last Dance

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

You were a low-slung
holdall of hot tears
in my useless arms

like those strained bags
of fairground goldfish -
ones eventually flushed .../


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Slept

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

One hushed minute is mine
around our slept-still house
as tea scabs cold in my mug
beside my unloaded bed .../


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If I could lift your hair

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

If I could lift your hairwith my good right handfrom behind you to findour long-settled placefor one last loved timewithout this revulsion – then have you allow meto tour round and down you –to cup your right breastand to pinch to your cryyour ever-hard nippleIf I could lift your hairone last time Mike Bell Poetry...


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These Players

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

There are no long embraces – no more slowing of time by a hold on your intimacy – or by those so-silent acknowledgements No unsaid understandings by affection’s expressions – none by a raised eye to mine There are no looks in poor light between slowly rolled reveals – none from behind your kabuki’s drop...


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Cat Walk

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Your frore perfidiousness has been widely sighted – Janus-faced – a sour-mouth denial to your being faithless Every falsity is perfectly stitched like your long green winter coat It cost you a almost a grand – but in it – you do look dog-cheap One more label-sucker with cash paying for sweat-sewn favours of brow-wept...


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