Well here it is. This has been simmering for around three years now and the poetry cauldron of trouble is about to bubble over. We’re cooked, done… and it’s over to you. Scarecrow is published on Friday 17 March and is being launched at The Wivenhoe Bookshop, Wivenhoe, Essex, on the same day, at 6.30pmContinue reading “Book launch, Scarecrow: 17 March”
Author Archives: MW Bewick
Falsework and scaffolds
In construction sites we see our mortality, our grand lie, the potential for the futility of all human creation. The scaffold grounds us rather than lifts us. It is the very picture of our ennui, the dream of our true existence. In the writing of my upcoming collection of poetry, Scarecrow, the ever-evolving skyline ofContinue reading “Falsework and scaffolds”
Never Look at the Sky
‘Do not look at the sky never look at the sky look at the tops of buildings look how far we have travelled’
Preview: Scarecrow is coming
I love a proper big art project – one that starts as isolated moments and then starts to coalesce, condense into some serious thinking, serious time and serious work. I’ve just completed one. About four years ago I went to a Poetry Wivenhoe evening and was encouraged to go away and write something, andContinue reading “Preview: Scarecrow is coming”
Into the woods
Something hidden in the woods.
An early January edit
January is a month for new writing, completing older projects, and walking around Essex’s wilder places.
New year, new website
Happy New Year! And Happy new website! You’ll notice that below is a complete set of entries for the Possible Fictions series of writing. This is gradually being migrated to this site’s Archive page, and new things will be appearing here – photos, book and event news etc. If you’d like to keep updated, youContinue reading “New year, new website”
100-Word Fiction: ‘On Guernica’
The faces in anguish. The screams of a horse. The door of no exit. The eye of the blistered sun low as a ceiling bulb. The gasping bull that looks away. A glove for a hand – palm deep-lined. The screeching bird. The heavy mortal stagger of feet, the trampled flowers, the limp child in aContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘On Guernica’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘1 September 2015’
1 September 2015. Global share prices tumble as visa checks are waived and bodies are washed up on a continent’s beaches. Dead. The stations and sports halls are full of refugees. We are learning new names and new vocabulary. There was no vocabulary for this. Old words are not sufficient. Very old words might justContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘1 September 2015’”
100-Word Fiction: ‘Cancer Party’
It was the week she discovered Bob Kaufman and read a poem of his (now forgotten) while the rain streaked across the window of her suburban flat. It was the week the cancer first looked ineluctably fatal. The news streamed in dolefully: news of supporters and opponents, the disaffected and the quietly optimistic, as ifContinue reading “100-Word Fiction: ‘Cancer Party’”
MW Bewick 