After beginning my fridge poetry endeavors last year, I was officially hooked. It amazed me how 300-ish words could be rearranged in so many ways. This small chunk of the English language could pack an emotional punch, and I was eager to learn how hard that punch could hit. I began to write poems without the magnets, picking and choosing from the entirely of English words.
It felt overwhelming at first, to convert the gooey emotions floating in my head into words. There were so many things I could write about, and so many words to sort through. But over time, I began to find my poetic voice. I continued to read poetry and find inspiration from others. I returned to Mary Oliver’s poems over and over again, and sought out new-to-me poetry from Sherman Alexie, Charles Bukowski, and Ocean Vuong. Their varied perspectives taught me about both the strangeness and beauty in life.
As this year’s national poetry month approached, I was hesitant to try writing a poem each day, to celebrate the month. Yes, I had managed it last year. But that had been a simpler time. My work responsibilities had increased, and I had started studying for my professional engineer exam. Although this could mean good things for my career, it unfortunately meant less poetry and writing in general. In fact, my brain was way too fried to even consider writing a poem from scratch every day, for a whole month. So I decided to write fridge poems instead. I rationalized it by telling myself I needed some creative outlet, or else my brain would explode.
I started off the month’s poems by staring vacantly at my fridge, hoping to find inspiration in these random words. Thanks to my studying, concepts like wastewater treatment and open channel flow had filled my head. Meanwhile, the poetry section of my brain had shriveled up to a husk. This cannot stand, I thought. I proceeded to fumble with my poetry magnets, hoping for anything to emerge.
Over time, I managed to write coherent things. I didn’t know how effective they were, or if they could be emotionally impactful. My logical brain was turned up to 101% as I worked to remember my water resources and engineering topics. I questioned myself over and over again throughout the month, feeling doubtful of both my engineering and poetry pursuits. Poetry is frivolous. Engineering is for cold-hearted robots. Wouldn’t it be nice to be a frog or raccoon?
Seeing as I could not metamorphose into a cute amphibian or trash panda, I continued on with my life. I thought back to happier days, when I had free time to spend with loved ones, and to daydream about everything. I drew on these memories to write my fridge magnet poems, contemplating the past to bring me strength for the future. Although some of my poems were serious, others were silly, too. The silly poems are some of my favorites, bringing a smile to my face when outside forces like crabby people, economic inflation, and endless studying bring me down.
I did take a study break one rainy Saturday, in order to attend the Pikes Peak Poetry Summit. This event had speakers, workshops, and a taiko drum performance, all in the name of poetic and creative expression. Poet laureates from all over Colorado shared their poems and wisdom, while the workshops offered inspiration and a chance to write some poetry. The taiko drummers were their own kind of poetry, moving in sync and making music out of their rhythmic pounding. They were so well coordinated that I felt chills, in a good way. The poetry summit left me with a refreshed mind, ready to get back to studying, as well as continue writing poems.
As April wrapped up, I wrote my last few fridge poems, for now. I still needed to prepare for my exam, and things like hydrology wouldn’t study themselves. It still saddened me to de-prioritize poetry. It has opened up my world and deepened my relationships with others. Although sometimes I feel like I could float forever in the soft embrace of poetic language, reality is not always so kind, and I manage to stay grounded through my engineering work. This balance between emotion and logic is something I forever seek, and may find some day.
Whether or not I actually find it is another story. For now I am happy feeling out poems, thinking about water engineering, and floating along some more. Maybe along the way I will find some more poems to write, just in time for national poetry month next year.
Eunice Wang 