Open Mic: Y De, May 2025 - Steve Coel


Documentary Fiction Photography - Steve Coel


Iron Shelter

Here -

Where...pavement shy funeral cars are smokey..

Where...mapped walking is silenced by small group gossip..

Where...sleeping iron sided shelters are brick piled into bulldozed walls..

Where...music is daytime dead..

Where...beaten up fenced trees strangle the air..

is the place language comes to die.


Cupped Smoke

Here -

Where...recycled gloves spill glassed ale in corner seat of damp pop-up..

Where...grey cigarette stained trackies stand broken in cement bank shelter..

Where...midnight football is supported by passing runaways heading to early morning meal..

Where..cupped smoke and industrial strength poison cans work full-time to keep the cold out..

Where...sharp light slices into puddled indoor short-cut..

is the place language comes to die.


Solo Rooms

Here -

Where...plastic fairground jewelry lies chewed up..

Where...kerbstone wheels dawdle in tune with open door security..

Where..words spoken in jest between strangers are echoes of threat to local trade..

Where...shuttered industry is impatient and bolted into fabric of labour..

Where...failure becomes habit..

is the place language comes to die.


Illegal Fragrance

Here -

Where...dining room corners are secretly guarded..

Where...tightly held anonymous bottles conceal early morning agenda..

Where...rusted chainsaw vans clutter side-street rubbled warehouse..

Where...cheap illegal fragrances batter muted steel trimmed trolley romance..

Where...unseen walking is never invisible..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication


Open Mic: Y Gogledd, May 2025 - Steve Coel



Documentary Fiction Photography - Steve Coel


Sleeping Path

Here -

Where...youth stubble walk across butchered sleeping path..

Where...hills consume history and memory is wiped out by nature..

Where...half gloved hands rap on steel plate and small window..

Where...slow of foot shadow wooden shovel..

Where...boasting is frowned upon..

is the place language comes to die.


Steel Mesh

Here -

Where...shaded front windows blank out screamed memory..

Where...watered gravel road hides handshake meeting..

Where...cheap endeavour is forced..

Where...emotion is mid-air and blank eyed..

Where...coat collar romance is early evening and drunk..

is the place language comes to die.


Fallen Brick

Here - 

Where...stubs of paper shape tomorrows nightmare..

Where...fussy overcoats and woolen carpet shape grassed up valley roadway..

Where...modern memory is glazed with empty cans of blood..

Where...fallen brick slices postered railing..

Where...bottom shelf goods are swallowed by small pockets..

is the place language comes to die.


Machine Winnings

Here -

Where...failure becomes habit..

Where...values are challenged and always disputed..

Where...machine winnings replace job prospects..

Where...happiness is solitary, forgotten and distant..

Where...teenage angst lasts long into retirement..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Steve Coel - Sharp Cement


Documentary Fiction Photography - Steve Coel

Oiled Pavement

Here -

Where...sharp cement spaces hurdles are guidelines for hooded meeting..

Where...energy is mimed into chalk board reminder..

Where...cladded hostel debris lies tattered stranded and broken inside blistered berry bush..

Where...lunchtime windows open on to oiled pavement..

Where...shadowed running is urgent..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication


Steve Coel - Chop Shop


Documentary Fiction Photography - Steve Coel

Chop Shop

Here -

Where...hidden alley way problems remain unspoken..

Where...broken woodland studded guards mock nature behind bladed 
hands..

Where...silent animals pursue the sleepless old under canal side 
bridge towards the dreamless forgotten city..

Where...stunted authority is doorway suited..

Where...cloned cob-web window warnings are nightly reminders from 
chop shop vehicle..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication





Steve Coel - Crow Time Feeding


Documentary Fiction Photography - Steve Coel


Crow Time Feeding

Here -

Where...recycled memory daytime hiding is scripted into knifed tree bark..

Where...reckless noise making is brutal and metal knuckled..

Where...vape bloodied cafe gardens groan beneath rusted leather footstep and betrayed seating..

Where...crow time feeding is weed killer gravelled..

Where...small group silence reflect rejects courtyard posters and charity reclaimed allotment..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel


Steve Coel - Powdered Laughter


Documentary Fiction Photography - Steve Coel


Fractured Actions

Here -

Where...animals hide from angry feet..

Where...guilty nightmare litter blocks tented scrapyard sleeping..

Where...fractured actions are choreographed by cheap powdered laughter and open car window..

Where...branded safety is insecure and ignored..

Where...stickered library steps are shouldered with morning smiles..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel

Steve Coel - Silent Passage


Documentary Fiction Photography - Steve Coel

Silent Passage

Here -

Where...stripped smiles are lay-by shackled to crusted warning..

Where...hidden living thrives..

Where...marketed dependence is crushed by sliding door argument..

Where...silent passages of time become enshrined in wasteland broken bottle..

Where...muddy spaces challenge twisted tree industry and nuggeted machine..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel


Steve Coel - Knuckled Silence


Documentary Fiction Photography - Steve Coel

Knuckled Silence

Here -

Where...shouldered bag running is closely followed..

Where...bus stop seated sleeping bag remains untouched..

Where...knuckled silent demands are reflected in glueless gated shop door..

Where...selected fence post information guides restless suspicion..

Where...street jumbled eating is rapid and pathless..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel


Steve Coel - Illegal Fragrance

Documentary Fiction Photography - Steve Coel


Illegal Fragrance

Here -

Where...dining room corners are secretly guarded..

Where...tightly held anonymous bottles conceal early morning agendas..

Where...rusted chainsaw vans clutter oiled side-street rubbled warehouse..

Where...cheap illegal fragrances batter muted steel trimmed trolley romance..

Where...unseen security walking is never invisible..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel




Steve Coel - Machine Muted


Documentary Fiction Photography - Steve Coel

Machine Muted

Here - 

Where...cracker jack bucket fire is street parked alongside guilty night time dog walking..

Where...laddered conversation is machine muted..

Where...rusty girdered security newspaper string hats hide and shelter..

Where...painted nightmares reflect pub door stumbling and grumbled farewell..

Where...bitter enjoyment breaks up shadowed days..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel