Number 54

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

I am not blood-steamed
by spine loosening grunts
across bare white backs
laid out below Istanbul
on arse-warmed marble
.... /


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Pinned

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Her long-rooted shyness
stopped her donning angel ways
in Israel - on an Arab feast day .../


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Insurance Matters

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Here - almost - an immolated whale
found bare - beached and dry

She is still - no stuttering breaths
of engine or pumps - cold dead .../


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Slower

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

I choose a minutes slower
route within Google Maps

Such a lottery takes us longer
as we drive through mid-Sussex .../


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By Green Park

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Day-glo tourists and hoary men – stiff in their dour ashen suits – not much has changed beyond Victoria’s cast arches – still a Queen and commoners standoff and watch each other from behind quick net curtains and wrought iron barriers as black cabs and red buses match those travellers’ hopes of a London of...


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07:33 Uckfield to London Bridge

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

It is a regular slog – a rub of bodies albeit freshly washed within air-conditioned warming-up carriages Out of Oxted and left to mute prayers and fingering keyboards instead of rosaries by that ticket- greedy high priest And a sudden tunnel is my utter immersion in this commuter hell – of sorts Mike Bell Poetry...


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Do not travel

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

unless you do not return Reduce our desecration of crushing of what just about still exists by not coming back to report your travels in books and glossy mags 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...


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More Waiting Rooms – Please

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

[A prose poem] East Croydon could be LGW or the upstart crow Milton Keynes station – each we passed through to BHX – those visited identikits of brand-stamped sub-city intersections – of yellow lines and low-hung fixed-font signs – there are no seat comforts – no – no more on any platform – no shuttable...


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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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Australia

By Mike Bell Poetry 2 comments

Between Townsville and Tasmania
there is every conceivable season
now that the rules have been lost .../


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