The Surreal Questionnaire
Poetry Exercise
- What’s something you would steal?
- A strange detail in the morning news; what is it?
- You are stopped on the street by someone you don’t know. They ask you a question. What is the question?
- Sometimes the universe is like a:
- Something you were doing/thinking/dreaming of/afraid of (chose one) when you were young:
- What’s your sign? (You have to invent something new here).
- I am a_____in a____.
- I confess:
- That bird singing in the tree; what is it saying?
- The stars were____ the moon was a_____.
Once it comes back to you: Compose a poem that captures the text in spirit, if not in the exact letter. Have fun including these elements.
The Beast
by Bill Lewis
The Beast sits by the telephone
Beauty doesn’t call anymore.
Outside across the lawn a peacock
cries out like a woman being murdered.
The Beast sits inside, curtains block
the gardens where stone animals crowd.
The Beast wears a black eye patch.
Beauty stabbed him in the eye
with the slim blade of her body.
Her smile is a Stanley knife.
The delicate lines around her mouth
cut deep into his sight. His vision hurts.
She is not cruel but her face is
a loaded gun that he presses against
the temple of his memory.
He is caught in a pincer movement,
his bad body image on one side
Beauty on the other.
He reads Angela Carter novels, fairy tales
and Mother Goose and hopes that wisdom
does not go stale over the centuries.
In those stories she always returns.
To be honest he fears that a little.
He has, after all, only one eye left.
He plays records. It is the nature of
the Beast to own vinyl, not a CD collection.
Julie London cries him a river Frank Sinatra
sings, it can happen to you/ fairy tales can come true
He does not know that sentimentality
is an act of violence.
In the dark bedroom his good eye waters.
- What’s something you would steal? The clock master’s eternal ticking heart.
- A strange detail in the morning news; what is it? The handmaiden’s hand.
- You are stopped on the street by someone you don’t know. They ask you a question. What is the question? Where can I find the chocolate factory?
- Sometimes the universe is like a: cuckoo clock.
- Something I was thinking of when I was young: talking wall fish.
- What’s your sign? (You have to invent something new here). Open palm of my hand.
- I am a chocolate horde in a strawberry field.
- I confess: to wandering far away while I’m still sitting here.
- That bird singing in the tree; what is it saying? Be aware of the lone lantern at night.
- The stars were fireflies the moon was a saucer of milk.
Untitled
Perched on the windowsill,
I appear in the old castle.
The clock master paces
in front of a fireplace with dying flames,
wearing the carpet thin.
He talks,
though I can’t see to who.
His arms fly up into the air,
he stops before the flames
and looks into them.
A golden hand fingers through his dark hair
and a sea of blue eyes flashes in the light.
I exhale
as a small figure waddles into view.
Its tiny hands clasp onto its rectangle waist.
The clock master rolls his eyes,
and the figure steps into the light.
It’s a pendulum clock,
with the face showing the time in a smile.
I hoist the window up without a sound
and hide behind the curtains.
A knife poised behind my back,
deep breaths.
They are turned away,
I step out,
one step after another.
The knife lowers to the master’s heart,
but he turns slowly.
A hand taking the knife.
It clatters to the floor.
“Many think time is a thief,
and want to steal my eternal heart.
But you have to give before you take.
Time’s a gift.”
(Drafted 2018).
