Ouija Poetry and the Collective Unconscious

I’ve sure had fun with ouija poetry over the years.  It has always intrigued me that by taking totally nonsensical, randomly typed letters and symbols, I could end up with a very original poem.  Maybe these were not great poems, but certainly they brought up images that were beyond what I normally would have conjured.  How great is that?

So let’s push that envelope a bit.  If the letters are really “totally nonsensical, randomly typed letters and symbols” what would happen if we each started with the same lines of nonsense and went through the usual ouija poetry iterations to see what meaning might emerge?  Clearly we would not come up with identical poems (unless perhaps Carl Jung was right), but mightn’t we find out something we didn’t know before we tried this?

Here are some nonsensically typed lines, done with my eyes shut and the only conscious intention to be to hit “enter” once in a while.  Try your own ouija poetry technique on these lines, hopefully before you read mine (to be done now but entered in a few days), and let’s see how wide a net is cast when we start from the same non-sense content.   (If you forgot how to do ouija poetry, see Goofing Around-3 above.)

 Oiuja Poetry

 Fjew jr;lsa/

Dkjr s

Eoighbvnmcnxo9eng

Xndn f

Enfkkdan ek;anc oaeh g4 ajf

D aekvne

Asken cog

And wog,

Adsktw;ioxnss

43 responses to “Ouija Poetry and the Collective Unconscious

  1. I arrived at the site this morning to see this challenge. As you all know I am not at all poetic so thought this a good one for me to try. Came up with these strange and creepy lines.

    Few jurors sat
    Dark jurors
    Eight venomous and menacing on 9 engagements
    Examples lost and found
    Enough kicking down and coaching 4 of them
    Dark nights
    Ask why
    And wonder
    Ask to whom I owe this

  2. Just a few years ago
    Dark lonely years
    Erin had been emersed in pining
    She couldn’t find
    Enough friction or energy to go for it again.
    Does she ask for intervention
    Ask for courage
    Then work
    At starting to find happiness again?

  3. Both wonderful! Notice the darkness and the ending uncertainties.
    I’ll post mine soon.
    Hope others will give this a try!

  4. Few jewels: dark, tiny
    An English Xanadu.
    End the dance?
    Come the dance.

    Ask what
    And why
    And skate toward Christmas.

  5. Few Knew
    Do peek. The door’s ajar. There’s a lash, a slash.
    Darkness harbors much blood
    Noxious cat o’ nine again.
    He stands, but not for long.
    The end is soon. It’s over. He’s done.
    Free him, okay?
    Give him room, on all fours,
    The Alpha requires him to cave, to kneel
    To ask, beg, grovel.
    At dusk, he lies.

  6. Wow – we all do have some special insite into the ouija letters. Pretty cool!

  7. I’m not going to read any of these until I figure out my own translation. So far the planchet is stuck on the first line….

    • If I would have read everyone’s before I wrote mine, I would never have posted what I came up with. Hummm…I should think about that. There might be a hidden message in there.

  8. I struggled with this but this is my best shot.

    A few jewels in jars for Lisa,
    Dark jars.
    Enough blue venom can cross out 9 Englishmen,
    Dead enough.
    End the KK as Dan escapes coaching 4 aging folks.
    A day eked of the vine,
    Asking for cognition
    And wrong.
    Ads knew of two oxen.

  9. Flying Jezebels landing in South America
    Dereks oil flowing in the sea
    Eight bone crushing men of Zen
    Xebec drowning in fancy free
    Endogen in danger; another great force
    Daffy knight-a-shining
    Ashen cognizance
    Anger and woe,
    Adulteration in inverse

    Wow, was that a bunch of nuttin!

  10. Interesting….and a little creepy. I spelled planchette like planchette. Spell-check wanted to remove the “te” and I refused to allow it. It seems to have gotten its way.

  11. fueled jets
    flew low
    dark eerie
    skies followed

    eight bronze
    men on the
    number nine engine
    exited and never fold

    enemies frick’n
    danced cancerous
    hate for all
    dark vengeance

    congress asked
    and waged war
    a dusty twilight of
    anxiousness

  12. Uh — Did we REALLY all start out with the same letters? These are all so amazing and so different!!

  13. I just can’t resist the Oiuja Poetry!

    I found a few lasers in a jar. Pew! pew!
    Don’t keep them in jars.
    I was eight, believed it took moxie. Now I’m 9, and I know it takes ingenuity.
    Exploding, falling down!
    Enough! Fake and duck down. Echo locater, aaaaaand approach.
    Go for jar!
    Alpha, Delta, team advance!
    Ask us. We’re the covert group.
    And we go!
    Time out. Our advantage. Snack time! Alphabet soup, delicious.

  14. Yes, who can resist? It’s very positive and active! It reminds me of playing the fun game of pretending to be a movie spy, using fingers as a gun, pointed up, hiding behind corners, then bursting out to crouch in a shooter pose to pretend-shoot the bad guy.

  15. Here are the last two lines of the original Ouija nonsense:
    And wog,
    Adsktw;ioxnss

    To test the potential of a collective unconscious, let’s compare all our last two lines:

    • And wonder
    Ask to whom I owe this

    • Then work
    At starting to find happiness again?

    • And why
    And skate toward Christmas.

    • To ask, beg, grovel.
    At dusk, he lies.

    • And wrong.
    Ads knew of two oxen.

    • Anger and woe,
    Adulteration in inverse

    • a dusty twilight of
    anxiousness

    • And we go!
    Time out. Our advantage. Snack time! Alphabet soup, delicious.

    What do we see here? Perhaps our own moods, poured into the chaotic assembly, creating images and scenes that reflect our emotions and what’s on our minds. Someone said this was more Rorschach poetry. Perhaps that is a better name. Like freewriting, like the anticliche exercise, this seems to be a way to find out what’s on our minds. Collective? I don’t think so.

    Thoughts?

  16. It’s like those exercises where they scramble letters of some of the words in a line but you read them correctly anyway. Your eye sees them, but your brain processes the story. I think I would come up with a different interpretation depending on the day. So, to me it is a snapshot of where our mind/psyche is and the first image it brings to mind at the moment we do the exercise. Not collective, but interesting.

  17. Sorry I can’t contribute to this one. My planchette remains stuck on stupid.

  18. Flew the lines from out his pen
    Of darkness dreamt in profound sleep,
    A vision fueled by opium
    Of Xanadu
    And Kubla Khan,
    Just fragments penned—not for print.

    And when he opened up his eyes:
    “In a vision I once saw:
    It was an Abyssinian maid
    And on her dulcimer she played.”

    ‘Mid Apocalyptic omens of war.
    In his creating he’s asked away,
    Inspiration lost—
    Or perchance stolen
    By an Abyssinian maid.

    Thus the work remains undone,
    Only a dream, he tells us now.
    But be he master to his work
    Or slave to all he writes?

    (Blame the planchette for this one. I’d given up, but glanced once more at the lines and saw “Xanadu.” Wasn’t even positive I knew the correct definition of it, so I Googled around a bit and discovered the story of how Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote “Kubla Khan.”)

  19. Flying jewish junior
    Dark jurys
    Eight bovine mechanics nine engineers
    Xanadu falls
    Enfants danny ankh roach tech airforce
    Dark avenue
    Asking cogs
    Again and worg or wolf
    Antitoxin noxious askew

    Fly my junior jew
    jury rig the darkness
    mechanical engineer in war
    Xanadu falls and infants die
    carry my force down the dark avenue
    asking for cogs to gain make more freedom
    again the wolves howl
    and spew forth their noxious fumes

  20. For the love of Jesus.
    Stop the clashing;
    an ego’s harboring of menacing thoughts,
    unending.
    Fend off danger, and go forth this day, naive.
    Ask for understanding,
    and walk at dusk towards oneness.

  21. Toward oneness. Good message, Lisa.

  22. it flew its last in dark jars
    eight began the machine
    at nine it ended, kind of
    effected and coached
    to be aggressive
    to ask and know
    to wag and skew ions

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