The idea of poetry can draw out mixed reactions. Some people might remember writing acrostics in elementary school; others might recall Shakespeare taught in a stuffy junior high classroom. Poetry was something that needed to rhyme and fit within rules, something written by dead white men photographed in grayscale. As life goes on, poetry often falls by the wayside, replaced with concerns like paying rent, family obligations, and work responsibilities.
A few years ago, I bought a set of Magnetic Poetry. I thought they would look nice on my fridge, and might spark my creative juices. The 300 or so words sat on my fridge in a mish mash of possibilities, seeing occasional use when I had friends over. Once in a while I would write my own poems, if I had the energy for it. It saddened me to see them sitting quietly, but I just couldn’t think of anything to write about.
Hoping to find inspiration, I started reading poetry. I followed a couple poetry accounts on Instagram, and in this way I found out that April is National Poetry Month. Some of the accounts posted daily prompts, but as someone who has never written poetry, they seemed intimidating. So I turned to my poetry magnets. All the words were already in front of me, and all I had to do was put them together.
This time around, I wasn’t limited to a public school classroom; now I could write the poetry I wanted, and choose the poets I wanted to read. This felt incredibly freeing, and I proceeded to scoop up countless books of poetry from my local library. I found myself admiring e.e. cummings’ use of form and language, and Mary Oliver’s poems about animals and nature touched me gently. I voraciously read Joy Harjo’s work, which draws from her experience as a Native woman. Each of these poets viewed life in a different way, and all of them are arguably very successful in their craft. Through their words, they inspired me to keep playing around with my poetry magnets.
I posted these poems on my Instagram story each day. I had no idea if I was good at poetry or not, but figured that it wouldn’t hurt to share them. If someone didn’t like my poems, they could just ignore them! Plus, if a poem did flop, all evidence of it would disappear in 24 hours.
Over time, I got all kinds of reactions. Some of my friends commented on the poem’s content, while others could relate a poem to their own life. Some even complimented my poetry skills, and this was deeply encouraging. Throughout the month, I wondered if my poetry was too much – too cheesy, too painful, too sappy. But hearing positive feedback gave me faith to continue.
On April 9th, the first Pikes Peak Poetry Summit was held. I had never been to a poetry summit before, and wasn’t sure what to expect. But my curiosity had been sparked, and I went to the summit hopeful for what would come. The morning was filled with presentations from current and past local poet laureates, along with several other published poets. They shared their experience with the craft, and each of them had a unique perspective. They spoke from the heart, and as I sat there, listening to them, I felt like these strangers wanted to understand me.
In the afternoon, there were different poetry workshops offered. In these workshops, the facilitators gave us prompts and encouraged us to brainstorm new ideas for our poetry. They didn’t push us towards writing a certain thing; they simply gave us the structure and the time to write something new. I ended up writing a poem about infill development. This was the only original poem I wrote this month, and it kind of cracks me up, how I could write poetry about urban planning.
I found inspiration for my poems through people I know and my past experiences. As I continue in adult life, I find myself meeting people from all walks of life. Obviously different people have different habits, quirks, and preferences. But every once in a while, I see a new friend do something I’ve seen an old friend do, and the connection clicks together. And then I find a little peace in how we are not so different.
Living in Colorado, I spend a lot of time outdoors, and a couple of my poems are about nature. It’s a simple joy at heart, but the rise of climate change threatens to take away even this. On Earth Day (April 22nd), a grass fire broke out near the highway, and it was the main thing on my mind that day. I wondered, what will the future bring? Will this summer be as smoky as last year’s? I rearranged my poetry magnets with these thoughts in mind.
I managed to finish out the month strong, and maintained my streak for all 30 days of April. This was the perfect challenge for me, with an attainable goal and low stakes. It also felt incredibly rewarding, simply fueled by the desire to write fridge magnet poetry. Maybe next year, I could write more original poems for Poetry Month! It would be a new challenge, but I know it wouldn’t be possible without the foundation I built from this year’s poems; planting these seeds of poetry writing and seeing what the future might bring.
Eunice Wang 