Welcome Back / Docks Museum - Steve Coel

Welcome Back [ Customs House ]

Steve Coel

Standing in the doorway

to the closed Custom House

you silently mouth

a plea for small change.

It's not one of your

regular spots.

Not today.

Looking like you needs

another close shave

your shoes

seem broken

and too loose for comfort.

Busy down waterside.

You, are not.

Slowly...you are becoming invisible.

Eventually, you too will disappear

leaving only a shadow

in each doorway

of this street.

[ The shadow of a man...each day up from the Sally...into town...

in the doors of The Western and Echo. ]

Docks Museum

Steve Coel

Today.

Dry docks glisten

with salty channel rain

as woollen old men

sit on a favourite bench.

Each is smiling

as together they remember

their songs and laughter

as young, hard welders.

Today.

Visitors will glance at walls 

of dismal grey photographs.

Some show weary men

and women waving small 

half empty beer glasses in the air.

Others are of car empty streets 

clogged with leather boots 

being dragged to early shifts. 

And some are of boys playing

scrappy football with tight balls 

of Western and Echo

in muddy parks

bordered with adverts

for cheap beer and bread.

Tomorrow.

Young men grown old 
will return, sit

and see it all again.

Departing visitors 
will not see them.

heb deitl

Steve Coel

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

Middle Lane Birds / Heavy Locks - Steve Coel

Middle Lane Birds

Steve Coel

Along hidden

grassed up 

middle lane birds

swoop as insects

skirt and skit.

Time here

is held in place

by bells

distant with summer

brown and crinkled blue.

Heavy Locks

Steve Coel

Quarrels echo

across the yard

toward a large 

watery gate.

Grey

figures turn

hiding their hands

and run

as animals scatter

with the wind

that howls.

Down the hill

women gather

and men glare

from behind vast whiskers

in photographs

of heavy locks

that fasten decisions

from outside.

Actual Size: 80cms x 80cms

Arfordir Byw
Steve Coel

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

Smells of Time - Steve Coel

Scratches jotted on car door handles

Steve Coel

You always walks ahead

so you can 

keep eyes

on his back.

Even now,

now when you's

both been outside 

six months.

And you's still both wearing

trademark greys 

with parallel pockets

that hide your newest shanks

which, like all bad habits,

is difficult to break.

Of course we sees

your interesting walk

straightaway.

Looks like

you's both walking

at the same pace.

But you isn't.

Is trick

you needs to learn

and practice.

Brings unneeded attention

if you looks 

like you's running.

Which you is really.

Even so, you's brave.

Got to be round this way.

Thing is

you's both got to try

harder to stop

being this stupid.

Although, fair does,

everyone knows

two heads is better than one.

So well done there.

Is clear peoples got

to break you up

if they's going

to get better deal

than you.

And that's 

how it always starts.

Always.

Takes three

to break two

and four

to break three

and so on.

Is how wars start.

So: twos

easier to deal with.

Trust like.

Smells of Time [ v.2 ]

Steve Coel

In you comes -

in your sad seven year old

ironic tracksuit

and pair of box fresh.

In you comes -

looking up deals

on the board

behind the counter

which, we knows, show

same best day

as last time, last week, last month.

In you comes -

doing quick sums

and ordering a dozen shots

with your release money

before giving each away

to punters who ain't interested.

In you comes -

barely missed
and completely blitzed

just another forgotten

madman.

In you comes -

...a madman bent by routine

...a madman twisted by addiction

...a madman caught in the to and fro 

   of the outside which has turned its back

   and good riddance.

In you comes-

...a madman smelling of time.

Notes:

...just talking to you. You smells of time, 

cork floors and small town county court rooms.

#abstractphotography2020

heb deitl

Steve Coel

Actual Size: 80cms x 80cms

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication