I believe we all need a bout of ouiji poetry for 2010…

Ouiji poetry (in case you’ve forgotten, see “Goofing Around-3” above)  involves closing your eyes and running your fingers over your keyboard in random fashion without an intention of forming words.  After a while, you open your eyes and begin to revise what you see.  It may need four or five revisions to come up with some sense that emerges as you decide what each bit of gibberish stands for. 

To keep this short, I’ll give you my first mish-mash and my last revision.  It’s your turn, now, to find out what’s on your mind.  Is this good poetry?  Not really.  But it is a good probe into your unconscious.










Dark garden pods and mini flowers to walk on

Never lost here, no schism–a park. 

I draw my sword, in exorcism, an amputation of the past,

that old tale.

Work is pure magic with dues all paid. Easy weeks. 

I see it growing, this new show.

I ask less of myself now.  I see the shine, feel the burning

on this land of growing, so skittish, so new.

It’s sudden fun, easy to see, ready to roam.

Still, though dark, the dew does sparkle.


74 responses to “I believe we all need a bout of ouiji poetry for 2010…

  1. Ouija Poetry 2010

    Kdiejlsiena;jjeinvnla;oieur iejlaii jfdlsajjfljf
    Ielsh eilsein aieiaqqaieiojfn

    Kiddies jollys end juveniles over edge laid Jeff sage fluff
    Fieldhands piqued
    Kiddie owed like a polka dot man lying crosswise
    Leased Elise in air acquires joy and fun
    Kiddies smile amen wilst
    Will Sidney feel shut
    Jodie makes jokes
    I’d squeeze so tight all die in the void.

    The joy of childhood ended as juveniles laid Jeff over the edge to the sage below,
    Yet, the field hands watching from below were merely piqued.
    To the young, Jeff looked like a polka dot man as he lay bent and crosswise.
    Yet, when Elise unleashed in the air, she brought joy and fun once again
    And kids smiled and said, “amen.”
    Meanwhile, will Sidney feel shut out
    While Jodie makes jokes?
    Squeezed tight, they’ll all die in the void of their folly.

  2. Keep going, Shaddy. That’s either a) a load of crap, or, b) there’s something profoundly disturbing in there. Something that makes one want to read it again and again, searching for the truth. Sorry about the crap thing.

  3. Brings to mind a Stephen King story, but can’t remember which one.

  4. Ok, I’m starting small. This is pretty intimidating.

    Keekktoohr ou oof heaa
    Hooo srae ;;ejthhhsmng
    So wit hooeht

    Kicking at the roof of my heart,
    You stare with edgy messaging.
    So taken with yourself.
    Just jesting, perhaps.
    Apparently the joke is on me.

  5. Newbie: WOW!

    My first attempt looks like a cross between Greet and Russian. The only word suggested is “fuhgedaboutit,” so I think I will and try another draft.

  6. Newbie? I’m IMPRESSED! Great job.
    Me too Gully! – (un)fortunately I forgot to save my draft as it was midnight and I was already completely incoherent. Darn, I get to try again.

  7. Life can really cut into a person’s free time.

    It seems a very long time ago that I enjoyed participating in the lively writing on Ann’s blog. For the past several months, caring for family members with health issues and then undergoing surgery myself have kept me away from the writing desk.

    But the New Year opens the door and invites high hopes…

    This morning, I returned to Ann’s home page and found this fascinating yet difficult exercise. Newbie, you did a great job, as did Shaddy—two very different voices. Following in Newbie’s footsteps, I am starting small.

    Hope everyone does not mind if I give it a try….


    rheeirpaserolsedfkj aslw3iro


    skwporhfgnslekjarw;ne ‘woeirj

    aweirhj nw;aleor

    aselrj birela




    the past slid fast as ice

    sleep freed woes

    skyward flew a slew of worries

    awash in new golden light

    a sense of air


  8. Ehaieo winfaoie
    whaoieanf aewofn
    Eiae aewkjenfnie
    ne eioaeniwf ioawe aw
    We faiwf’ iea’wekfaioiewnf


    Eyes kaleidoscope windows
    Who am I behind the face friend or foe
    A rose garden
    Evil awkward gem of fire

    Aligns in wanting heroes
    Never ocean waves return
    We fail weak we fight on
    Everyone friend or foe
    nemesis or allies


    Eyes, mere kaleidoscope windows
    For, who am I behind this face?
    Am I friend or foe?
    Sweet as a rose garden, or,
    Evil, awkward gems of fire

    Shores are lined wanting heroes, who,
    Never the ocean waves return
    We fail, weak, but we fight on
    Everyone either friend or foe
    Nemesis or ally

  9. Ye gads, you guys are great at this. All of you. Who knew such inspiration could come of gobbeldygook?

  10. Shaddy- wow – lots of hidden drama in your poem. Sure wouldn’t want to be with those kids! Is there more to tell? BTW- I vote for #4!
    Kathy – Thanks I would never have come up with that on my own, but it made sense to me when I saw it there.
    DS – Kaleidoscope window eyes – I love it! Makes me sing Bette Davis Eyes
    Lassie – Sounds like you are ready to shed your worries and get back to writing. Nice job

  11. Pvvvv… Ksb uidfv Hsirnsjjd jdhdg hd.

    Which seems to translate as:

    Hmmm… All kinda Rorsharch isn’t it?

  12. I always want to participate in these fun games but with such talented friends it’s a little intimating. 🙂
    I just can’t write ‘off the cuff’ like you all. Maybe I need to take Ann’s class again.

  13. dayner,
    we all begin by writing poorly, however I suspect you’re way past that. Doubts are always there–even for me. I read everyone’s ouiji poetry and think–how moving! what sounds! such ideas! And all this from blindly tapping fingers on a keyboard plus a few trusting leaps. I hope you’ll dive in.

  14. Mine still looks like gibberish.

  15. Oiuja Poetry

    (I don’t think I will become famous for this, but it sure is fun! Thanks for the prompt, Ann!)



    Sdfhjl;eqm chf


    Asdfh;la mbjff


    REVISION #1:

    add as fast as defend , even zinc and vitamin C

    stand, fall, equals a magic chef

    ascend the fjiord even

    ascend the flower hall; la mighty best jaunty friend forever?

    Zeus, Xavier, Valhalla, hell; wend your way to the garden.

    Bracket your way – you are not poor.

    REVISION #2:

    Add, defend… quickly now. You have the strength.

    Stand, fall…. You are a magic chief.

    Ascend the fjiord. You can.

    Ascend the flower hall, oh mighty friend.

    Who are you? Where will you go?

    Zeus? Xanadu? Valhalla? Heaven?

    Ah, wend your way to the garden.

    You are not poor within its walls.

  16. Alright here goes—but it’s no masterpiece



    Kids play in small leaf littered groves
    Sun sets low glowing dusk
    Joe and Linda row the river
    Flowers lean languidly in the heat of the afternoon
    Handkerchiefs or tissues

  17. Dayner!
    I’m so glad you gave it a try and you even saw languidly. I haven’t heard that word used since I memorized the third verse of Amazing Grace. Way to go!

  18. Original:
    Poiwen asdo asdoi kas
    Wei cdsao;lk
    Asdfj 2idhdau oiuee
    Soid weoidpoi dkaic ty
    Poqiejr a;sldjf repuqoiefk a;lskdm
    A;lskdf opiewr oj astg oi jmjh
    Qonwidcj yRLKSD

    Last revision:
    Wind pushes my back, and I jerk forward.
    Catch myself. Awkwardly.
    Weighed down as I walk.
    Come on, legs.
    The day spent, wasted, over.

    I take to the house and sigh, “ah lieben.”
    Catch day’s last light. Blinding.
    Golden, bouncing off the kitchen window.
    And I look away. Up.
    Home. Solid, wood, picket fence.

    New warmth. New energy.
    Catch the falling oak leaf.
    Wilted, brown, leathery slip.
    And I reach up.
    Skipping, laughing. Winner!

    So many have fallen,
    Not caught. Not noticed.
    Making piles, drifting, rotting. Nuisances.
    But this leaf is mine.
    And we found each other today.

    (Hi Ann! I don’t know if you remember, but I took your class about a year ago. Your ouiji poetry struck a chord with me today, so I thought I’d post. Thanks for having such a nice play space for us!)

    • Wow!

      I don’t know how you came up with all of that from your blindfolded hammering on your keyboard but I love every word of it.

      Welcome to our writing group. Come back often. Anne’s great at prompting us to dig down deep and pull magic from the depths.

  19. I’m with Shaddy. I don’t know how you pulled that out of the gibberish, but I’m glad you did.

    Lucky leaf!

  20. Come on, legs! Picket fence image! Catching falling leaves!

    It’s great to read about another’s love of home. Hope you’ll visit us often, Just Jean. Yes, I remember you.

  21. Newbie has sprouted training wings and is preparing for some test flights as “Parrot”. It was my nickname for many years, and now becomes my writing name . Hopefully Gully’s Pablo won’t take offense to another bird its midst…

    • Good luck with your newly sprouted training wings. I suspect you’ll be flying circles around the lot of us in no time. Pablo’s way up in Alaska; you’re safe.

    • Pablo has other concerns today, much more serious than another parrot in his sphere: he was almost a canine lunch today. Hey! I just thought of something. Pablo’s been regurgitating his food lately and trying to feed me. Perhaps you could oblige?

      • parrotwrites

        Well, not with the regurgitated stuff, but we have some pretty good wines in this area that could somehow make it up your way! Our vinyard isn’t producing anything we want to share yet – we are hopeful that our harvest last Oct will be drinkable! Its year 5, which is supposed to be the turning point.
        Our small vinyard is called “NOD Vinyard” for Gnarley Old Dude – yes I know it starts with a G, but would we didn’t feel we were worthy enough to be “GOD Vinyards”.

  22. Help! I’m smothered with three different piles of gibberish and none speaks my language….

  23. You can borrow my Rosetta Stone, but I don’t know how much it’s going to cost to ship it. It might be cheaper to try a fourth pile of gibberish and have the other three hauled away.

  24. Ann,
    I tried posting this yesterday, but it didn’t show up. I’ll try it again…

    Dfjalsj ipu lj oiuwrowui rhjsdlfj f
    Qweruo uopruwpour r v
    aweroiweoiru ro woeriuan
    Lkjboiubnr,st nyhrt
    Trl jtoius Poppa


    the bell jar steals the joy, the wrongness
    and yet it still resides here
    just beyond the tip of my finger

    questions fly, teetering on the ledge
    but they never pour themselves too thin

    ask it
    do you wonder where you run, where I run?
    taste it
    something like joy brings peace like the night

    and it is all to my father

  25. Whoa, Kathan — this is is one of those ‘still waters run deep’ poems. I read it a couple of times and each time got something new. Nice.

  26. This is amazing. I like it better each time I read it. Way to go!

  27. I had so much fun with the first one, I did it again!

    Ewrj iuoas’
    Wru flmb
    Adssa wr ro adfswriu
    Ruoiudsafj fuwaoua
    Asl auroueaoulskjenlvlu
    Werro[[poi j vjewi


    you are like a bouillabaisse
    or a flambé
    a dash of what and a pound of who
    complicated and too long to create
    salty yet refined
    and full of too many ingredients
    that I do not have

    a celery stick or a poached egg I would prefer
    for these are simple
    and then perhaps I would walk to the corner store and get some gum
    were you not taking so long in the oven

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