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.
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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.