MicroFlashFiction - Steve Coel

Glare

Glare [ 2011 ]

Meeting in city parks
below glass power buildings,
freedom papers flutter
along dirty stone paths.

Trees glisten and glare
remembering horses, bicycles,
happy couples.

In narrow side streets,
hecklers dressed in black
and blue stomp out rhythms
to drum beats,
played on plates
and tablets of stone
and tin.

[ Extract[s] from Glare, Mud on a Plate - 2011.
An 11.59 Publication ]

Stryd Fawr / Stryd Uchel

Steve Coel

Stryd Fawr / Stryd Uchel

Steve Coel

A chance meeting, at a meeting, led to a conversation,
a look around the studio and a series of ideas
discussed about both old and future projects.
Older series / projects, I realise, are never really resolved
they just kind of keep on evolving as new [ and old ] audiences don't always pick up on them straight away.
I like that.
I like that a lot.

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

Footfall in Albany

Footfall in Albany

Steve Coel

Footfall in Albany

Steve Coel

Footfall in Albany

Steve Coel

Footfall in Albany

Steve Coel

Part 1 - Morning.

Is all about frail, weightless, frightened older men who come into cafe for 3 hour coffees and dried up toast and who talk endless bollocks about non existent winning horses.

Part 2 - Afternoon.

Is mainly about shapeless local smackheads and hard-core druggies who come into cafe to settle small debts and to boast about knowing where next deal is going to happen.

Part 3 - Evenings.

End of the day for some, sees cheap fatty meals and
shelter from the pain of the street.

Part 4 - Late Nights.

Is about 'real money' being made in busy stockrooms of empty shops.

Microflashfiction

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

Steve Coel

Footfall in Albany

Arbrofion

Steve Coel

Footfall in Albany

Arbrofion

Steve Coel

Footfall in Albany

Arbrofion

Steve Coel

Footfall in Albany

Arbrofion

Steve Coel

Microflashfiction

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

Fresh Faced

Arbrofion

Steve Coel

Microflashfiction

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

Steve Coel

Born in the Workhouse

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

Dead Air into Warm Harp

Taith Araf

Cais Archif Oriel

Steve Coel

Dead Air into Warm Harp.

Steve Coel

Since I bust my legs down The Works I's had

to spend all my mornings blowing dead air

into warm harp by the old library.

Bust my heart too, truth be known.

Lost everything now I has.

Still; once I's got enough coin I has a mild

and Clark's pie down The Vulcan.

And; often or not, I ends up chatting to the old girls,

warming themselves up, before they goes and shelters

under the bridge down by The Glastonbury.

Clink Hotel across the road gets noisy in the afternoon

so I wanders back into town for a bit of a stretch

and goes cadge a cup of tea from Astey's before heading

back down Bute to the Sally for warm meal and early bunk.

Doesn't have time to feel sad really. Not me.

Trick, I finds, is to forget past and just stick

to what I knows.

Needs change of shoes though mind.

I'll find some in box by door in the morning.

[ Draft 3 ]

Microflashfiction

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

In the Blood

Anwastad Strydoedd

Cais Archif Oriel

Steve Coel

In the Blood

Steve Coel

You's probably seen my picture in the papers.
Looks bit different now I does.
Big fella then like.
Once done lot of adverts for the tele.

Today things changed.
Can't stick jobs too long.
Nerves shot see.
All started when I was just a kid.

See Dad managed to talk his way
onto shift at Ellington.
So me and Dad and his mates got to spend some time
underground, like they'd been doing in the valleys
since they all left school.
Laugh it was, cos we's all on holiday
with the club at the time.
Mum was furious.

As it goes years just shot by.
And I wasn't laughing my last time down the pit.
Cos after 15 hours digging only came back up
with me best mates arms.
Didn't want my picture in the papers then.
Trust me.