Daytime Hideaways

Taith Araf

Steve Coel

Daytime Hideaways 

Steve Coel

In back spaces

unseen from roads

and rear view mirrors

between rubble

and broken glass,

shaking hands

are shaken.

Tracksuits

are worn 

to hide shape,

weapons,

sex.

Trade here 

is invisible,

unknown.

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

Kildas Song - Steve Coel

heb deitl

Steve Coel

Kildas Song

Steve Coel

Quarrels echo across

the yard

towards 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

behind vast whiskers

in photographs

of heavy locks,

that fasten decisions

about the outside.

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

Shopping Trolley - Steve Coel

Fade to Grey

Steve Coel

Shopping Trolley

Steve Coel

Like a dream it was just now.
Watching you walk barefoot and unconcerned 
across the wet road, 
it being this early like and all.
You must have started evening with shoes I suppose, 
but there you go.
No CCTV to follow your every movement.
Not here.
Not yet.
But you's being watched my friend.
Trust me, you's being watched.

See it's quiet round this way.
Apart from splashing water 
and occasional heavy gun fire.
Odd that actually.
Guns usually start up later. 
At a more sociable time like.
No real point this time of the morning.
No-one to frighten see.
This time of day is just showing off.
Pricks.

So what the fuck you think you's doing round here
is beyond me.
But then I's not being paid to think or worry
about kids like you is I?

So better get on.
If I can get this knife bit further in
I can be on my way as well.

Shit, was that gunfire again?

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

Robert Johnson - Steve Coel

Taith Araf

Steve Coel

Robert Johnson 

Steve Coel

Tempted by angels to play God

a crumpled young man sits,

12 fret on his knee.

Smoking, he begins performing

to an empty dance floor.

Returning curious stares

he slowly starts 

to weave his spell

singing songs of lost love,

slavery, and distant voices.

Finally, twisting long last notes

toward the wet earth

he finishes

and the faces turn away.

The young man returns to his thoughts

as, cigarette in hand,

he once more listens

to angels tempting him 
to play God.

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

Docks Museum [ v.2 ] - Steve Coel

Anwastad Strydoedd

Steve Coel

Dock Museum

Steve Coel

Today

dry docks glisten

with salty channel rain

as woollen old men

sit on one of their

favourite benches.

Each is smiling,

as together they remember

the songs and laughter

from when they were

young, hard welders.

Today

visitors will glance

at walls 

of dismal grey photographs.

Some show weary men

and their smiling girlfriends

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 small boys playing

scrappy football

with tight balls

of Western and Echo

in muddy parks

bordered with adverts

for cheap beer and bread.

Tomorrow

old men will sit

and see it all again.

The departing visitors

will not see them.

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

Empty Corners [ v.6 ] - Steve Coel

ymadawiadau

Arbrofion gweledol / lliw

Steve Coel

Empty Corners

Steve Coel

Stepping away from the street

through a broken 

broad open two door,

you painfully walk

into a high congregation

of  brown paper

and leather.

Once inside

along each damp tired wall

you discover anointed paint

quietly peeling,

and unclean fragile carpet,

frayed by disappointment,

falling into 
gloomy empty corners 
stacked high with rotting chairs.

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

The Proposal [ V.4 ] - Steve Coel

Y Llywiwr

Arbrofion gweledol / lliw

Steve Coel

The Proposal [ V.4 ]

Cut

into bitter wet stone

by masters of dead trades,

your life story.

Brief,

like you,

words torn from broken parents

target the elders

who created your passing.

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

Rains on Me - Steve Coel

Y Llywiwr

Arbrofion gweledol / lliw

Steve Coel

Originally used on the De / City Tour,
back when.

Rains on Me

Steve Coel

Innocence doesn't exist here.

Not even for the young.

No; only dead eyes stare 

from photographs, 
taken by drunk uncles.

Here, memories of short 

goodbyes to forgotten lovers

are etched into shop fronts, dockside

and idle backyard gossip.

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

The Right Shadow - Steve Coel

O ble mae'r bobl wedi mynd?
Stryd Fawr / Stryd Uchel

Steve Coel

Your actions
are dictated to you 
by a need
to survive.
They's not
the movement
of youth.
You's empty already
and you's
not even thirty.
And you's been 
desperately searching
for something to sell
rather than yourself.
Your time
is invisible time.
It's the unused time
most people leaves spare
between living.

The Right Shadow

Steve Coel

Grey, when you's staying
at Clink Hotel.
Black, when you returns home
to no fixed address.
Each casts
the right shadow,
makes you invisible.
Makes you useful.

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication

Eight Rooms - Steve Coel

O ble mae'r bobl wedi mynd?

Stryd Fawr / Stryd Uchel

Steve Coel

O ble mae'r bobl wedi mynd?

Stryd Fawr / Stryd Uchel

Steve Coel

Eight Rooms

[ the confession trade ]

steve coel

'...get good at anything and you will create your own enemies.'

Bukowski

extract[s].

Thing you learns, my uncle told me, is that most folk will tell you things you needs to know.
Trick is to know how to get the right information quickly.
Uncle who taught us said is just a simple matter of gentle persuasion.
Rely on your rooms to get the right results, he said.
For example, this morning only needed a plank of wood with a couple of nails and a clasp knife, and it's funny how fishing line, carefully knotted, works too. 

Eight rooms minimum is the best number in this line of business. 

We knows that. 

Used to be a trade secret.
Trusted we are. So we gets plenty of work passed on to us.
Want to find out who's been busy lately?
Bottle of whisky, a betting shop pen and padlock usually does the trick. 

First time round.
Where's the money going?
Cosy sofa, glass coffee table, bit of fake blood on the carpet, garden fork leaning on a chair...trust me.
See reputation is everything in this room game.
If you hears someone's gone missing, just spread the word, only, hint at different reason. And make it a bad one. 

Job done. 

Easy.
Things can get difficult, is a lie if you hears different because sometimes people tries it on, but is how you learn to select right room.

...All you needs really to succeed in this game is a fucking good sense of fen shui and an ability to disguise yourself like.

Stands to reason pays good.
Although hours can be pretty shit.
But if you continues to get results they says you can retire young, move on, go live in Ibiza, Canaries or some place.
It's my family business at the moment, just a job really.

Steve Coel

An 11.59 Publication