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Paul Bell Poem
The street seemed so much smaller now
The grime and the smell were still the same though
Engrained like the people who lived there
It was the only thing that never left him
She stayed at twenty-three
One tough girl
Christ, he still remembers the day she knocked him out
Slightly concussed, he proposed to her
Not bad for a twelve-year-old
She couldn’t stop laughing
She wasn’t marrying no wimp that day
In fact, her daily ritual was knocking him down
Mum, is love painful
If it’s true love, it can be
It was, his head was testament to that
He just kept going back for more
To give her, her due, she was happy to give it to him
One day he told her straight. I don’t care how many times you knock me down. I’m going to be your boyfriend. He waited for the punch
She kissed him
He fell down again
She starting laughing
It felt like the greatest feeling ever
They became inseparable after that
Young love had conquered
One day she told him she was going away
I’m going with you
It’s not that kind of going away
Is there another kind
It’s the dying kind of going away
Yes, but you won't die for a long time
A year the doctors said
That didn’t make sense to him
We’ll just have to make the most of it, she said
Make the most of it
The most precious year of his young life
She died the way she lived.
Demanding he did the best he could with his life
There were times when he really struggled
Times he thought of joining her
The pain in his head always changed that
Even in death, she got to him
The years passed by
He made good
She would be proud of him
The street seemed so much smaller now
The grime and the smell were still the same though
Engrained like the people who lived there
It was good to be home...
Copyright © Paul Bell | Year Posted 2023
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Paul Bell Poem
My Marie, wasted so much time watching
Sat behind your image, I always wondered
Type me another picture, so I can look inside your head
Reach the final thread
When all the words are said and done
And times we have no longer fun
Please remember how it all begun
Cause no one won, no one won
My Marie, did you really think I’d change
Become your love, rearrange my life to suit your soul
Could we really be such fools
Expect to change the rules forever
When all the words are said and done
And times we have no longer fun
Please remember how it all begun
Cause no one won, no one won
My Marie, another picture in another place
Dirty talk, dirty sleaze
Lousy love that didn’t please
High class b****h , f*****g tease
When all the words are said and done
And times we have no longer fun
Please remember how it all begun
Cause no one won, no one won
My Marie, dressed to thrill, stocking tops where guys would kill
Pink champagne upon your breasts
Trickling down your shaven nest
Sighs to screams, frenzied pace
Champagne and love, the sultry taste
When all the words are said and done
And times we have no longer fun
Please remember how it all begun
Cause no one won, no one won
My Marie, we fight goodbye
Mocking insults, tears to cry
Words like daggers deep inside
Daggers deep inside
Goodbye, Marie, our time has come
The pictures running dry
Sat behind your image, I always wondered why
One day I was feeling all alone
Felt so really down
Remembered a pair of lacy pants
And put them to my brow
Champagne and scent came flooding back, and time began to clear
For a fleeting moment I had you
And then you weren't there.
Copyright © Paul Bell | Year Posted 2024
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Paul Bell Poem
We said goodbye
You and I
Tossed a coin
Who would cry
You won
Time went by
You went on to marry Joe
I got blown up
From head to toe
Along came baby, Jill
Your pride and joy
Such a thrill
I started the long road back
With a dummy leg, I nicknamed Jack
It was hate at first sight
Throwing him down every night
Sadly, Joe passed away
Your life crashing down
That fateful day
Jack and I changed tact
We sort of made a little pact
I wouldn’t throw him down
If he walked straight on the ground
You came to terms with your loss
Went back to work
Still the boss
Now you and little Jill
Moving on, moving still
I had finally trained Jack to run
Not very far, granted
He still moaned at will
But I told him straight
Tomorrow the hill
The sun was shining
Good day to go out
Drive into the country
Out and about
Right Jack, today’s the day
Do not upset me in any way
Just try to keep straight
Is that okay
Mummy, look at all the sheep
A cow, goats
Mummy, horses too
What’s that, Mummy
Jack decided to leave him on the downside of the hill
Rejoining him at the bottom
Leg with no thrill
I swear to god I will shoot you dead
Looking up at an Angel and a little girl in dread
Been a long time, Tony
Still running I see
Hope when you said shoot
You weren’t meaning me
No I was talking to Jack my leg
He hasn’t quite mastered running yet
Reminds me of a girl I once knew
Oops, that girl would be you
So you called your leg after me
That’s real sweet
Maybe that’s why she keeps leaving you
Wouldn’t you agree
I think you could be right
Having had lots of time to reflect in the small hours of the night
So, who’s this lovely little girl
This is my daughter, Jill
I know what you’re thinking
This fairytale came true
They got back together
Like they’re supposed to do
Alas not
Well, not till Jack mastered getting down on one knee
I mean, how hard can it be.
Copyright © Paul Bell | Year Posted 2023
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Paul Bell Poem
They never solved the murder.
Though the crazy woman at number nine said it was the husband.
This was ruled out in the early stages of the investigation.
At some point, they did talk to the woman at number nine.
She said the cats had left for a spell, then they came back.
The detective ignored her and left, no report was needed.
The case went cold.
It was later on when rechecking statements that the address of number nine came up.
The detective was asked to explain.
He said the woman at number nine just kept going on about the cats. She was obviously loopy.
On re-interviewing her, the senior detective asked her to explain.
She said the cats had left because the deceased was pregnant, but they came back when she wasn’t pregnant.
So, what you’re saying is, she lost the baby.
No, she didn’t lose it, she had to get rid of it.
Why did she have to get rid of it?
Because he couldn’t have children.
Alarm bells went off. Christ, this was delicate. He couldn’t possibly go back to the station and put this forward as new information, they would give him to the boys in white coats. But something told him to go with it, he could put it down to a tip-off. This also meant two suspects, possibly three.
Getting the body exhumed would be the last resort.
Getting the abortion clinics to part with information would be tricky, but it was a murder investigation, after all.
He had a gut feeling about this woman. She was careful, had to be. He didn’t think she would use her own name, he also reckoned she would go out of state. This brought its own problems, but he had connections, and he would use them.
Her photo was shown, and in the third clinic recognised.
Things went fast after that. The boyfriend was found. He was married. It was a long term affair. He was ruled out.
The husband had a watertight alibi, but was brought in for questioning. They knew he hadn’t killed his wife, but that meant nothing. The senior detective just put a simple question to him. If your wife had told you about the baby, would you have brought it up as your own?
That was enough to break him. He confessed to having her killed, the killer has never been found.
Had she been killed two months later, he would have escaped the death penalty of lethal injection and been jailed for life. The death penalty was abolished that July.
He was the last to die in that state by lethal injection.
Copyright © Paul Bell | Year Posted 2023
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Paul Bell Poem
The sex was unexciting as it was unimportant
Like the silk red knickers
That didn’t really define her
Or the cross chained around her neck
That didn’t protect her
He sensed she was more broken than him
Strange how broken people come together
Awkward pieces never quite fitting
Just clinging on
He felt this would be his last time on earth
Time had picked him as it had picked the ones before
He was ready
She sensed he was different from the others
More dangerous, but not to her
The scars on the outside, only hidden by the scars within.
She also felt the death sign
But that was her calling
The chosen one
He watched her sleeping
Finding comfort in a strange way
Something caught his eye
The small mark on her skin
The sign of the sacred sisters
He felt humbled in her presence
It was time
Death was waiting
He walked to it gladly.
Copyright © Paul Bell | Year Posted 2023
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Paul Bell Poem
The rain washed the blood away
And for a time I became human again
Children with dead eyes
Play amongst corpses rotting in the morning sun
A father prays to some god
Hoping for a miracle
Abound by his faith
Certainly a deeper faith than mine
For the moment only the gun is god
In these quiet times
I think of people sitting at desks
Being productive
Dreaming dreams better than mine
Building a future
The survivor alarm kicks in
I've been here too long
The scene changes
The father has found his god
For a time he becomes a soldier
Two gods about to collide
One through total frustration
The other with the dimension of time
He once read a book
The romance of war
He always thought the title should have read
The two faces of war
The bullet killed him instantly
Tomorrow he would be another rotting corpse
No romance there
People at desks building futures
Children with dead eyes play in the morning sun.
Copyright © Paul Bell | Year Posted 2021
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Paul Bell Poem
The reflection in your eyes
Hide the sad lines of beauty
Mirrored in your own little ocean
Touched a thousand secrets
Who sees behind the smile
Enigmatic soul gone before me
So calm, but never passive
Touched a thousand secrets
The reflection in your eyes
Drown the life before me
So clear, tranquil, almost pitying
Touched a thousand secrets
Goodbye my distant lady
The night has seen you gone
No glance to say, no feelings
Touched a thousand secrets
The reflection in your eyes
Crept inside my soul
Mysterious lady, thoughts so deep
Tried to touch your mind
The reflection in your eyes
Like the ocean taking me further away
Beautiful enigmatic lady
Touched a thousand secrets.
Copyright © Paul Bell | Year Posted 2023
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Paul Bell Poem
It isn’t hard to explain
You do my head in
There, can I make it any more plain
You dress like a man
Make love like the dead
Does anything else need to be said
So without further ado
I say goodbye from me to you
Okay well said
Here she comes
Right, go for it
Darling, darling, you look great
New dress, suits your hair
Let’s go to lunch
Bottle of champagne
Let's just celebrate us
What the hell is wrong with you
You're like one who flew over the cuckoo
Just spit it out
Darling, there’s something I have to say
Let’s get married today
What are you saying, have you lost the plot
It’s dumping day, not love me nots
Now be a man
Darling, I would just like to say
Don’t say anything Paul, I’m dumping you, goodbye
What, you can’t just dump me, you need a build up
It’s dump protocol
Come back
I need to tell you something
Come back, don’t go…………………………….
Copyright © Paul Bell | Year Posted 2023
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Paul Bell Poem
Monday
It has come to my attention, that someone has been stealing from
the communal fridge. I notice that my own personal milk with my
name on the bottle is half empty, also three fingers of my KitKat
are missing. Please refrain, or action will be taken.
Tuesday
It has come to my attention, and I’m pleasantly surprised to see
my milk has been topped up, though, why two fingers of my
kitkat in a V sign just beggars belief. Just tasted my milk, you
dirty bastard. I will now be monitoring the fridge from my office.
You will be caught.
Wednesday
It has come to my attention, the camera monitoring the fridge
is now monitoring the ladies toilet. This is intolerable, you are
usurping my authority. Heads will roll. I will now be moving the
fridge into my office until further notice.
Thursday
It has come to my attention, my office has been penetrated,
the fridge is missing, and I find a ransom note on my desk.
I don’t know who you people think you're dealing with, but
let me leave you in no doubt, I will find out who you are, and
you will be dismissed.
Friday
It has come to my attention, a delivery of fifty fridges is
cluttering up the whole building, management is going
ballistic. I concede to your demands, please get rid of
them. Let us get back to you taking my milk and my biscuits,
my job, my life. Just leave me alone.
Thankyou.
Copyright © Paul Bell | Year Posted 2021
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Paul Bell Poem
So strange, it was dark in the white room
People pondered over marshmallow figures all stood in a straight line
That one at the end, it has eyes
So it has
Godlike, we bow in awe
Hundreds and thousands applaud in unison
Chocolate legions stand routed
The eyes have vanished
Death searches in the night
Jelly baby heads abandoned as mothers cry in colour
Candy fish lead the cortège as the night floats downstream
One jelly baby saved
Adopted Tobleronian
Something's brewing
Death in the afternoon
God speaks
Go forth to jelly mountain
Hundreds and thousands follow
Tobleronians in hot pursuit
Parting of the waves
Plague the Pharaohs army
He leaves the smarties
To climb jelly mountain
God gifts him tablet for the journey down
The smarties have built a chocolate idol
Furious, he breaks the tablet in two
With the Tobleronians on one side
Smarties on the other
He came to his only conclusion on jelly mountain
You just can't get the 'Staff.'
Copyright © Paul Bell | Year Posted 2023
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