Chances are you know someone who has Fridge Poetry; those little magnetic words that you can arrange and rearrange to make poems on your fridge. I used to have an irrational jealousy of people who owned them. Why I never went out and bought my own set, I don’t know… but then small children happened, and easy-to-eat-magnets (poetic or otherwise) became a big no-no, and I spent years looking instead at neon letters that were jumbled up to spell ‘y0 dAD’.
Poetry is a form of creative mindfulness. To write a poem you have to listen to your thoughts, be in tune with your emotions, even aware enough of your surroundings that you can take clues about what to write about. You need to see the world anew.
I’ve always LOVED poetry but have never been much of a poet myself. I agonize too long over every word and get tangled in self-doubt before I get past a few lines. Funny to think that I can post here Monday to Friday, knowing that anyone could read it, but poetry… hmmm… that’s different. Perhaps it’s because poetry is the essence of your soul… the ultimate vulnerability.
And then I discovered that the people who make Fridge Poetry have an online version. It obviously misses the tactile pleasure and therapeutic aspect of moving words around on a fridge, but it is nonetheless quite addictive. Because I’m supposed to be writing another chapter of my PhD, not dabbling in poetry, I don’t really have time to experiment…. for too long… although… I decided to make a very brief exception here today.
Here is the link to the website (it looks genuine, and has links back to the manufacturer, and nothing bad happened when I used it – but it also says ‘not secure’ on my computer, so it’s up to you whether you want to try it):
magneticpoetryplayonline.com/original/
And here are the three poems I wrote with the 3 sets of word-shuffles it gave me (I tried for a holistic healing bent, but it really depends on the words you’re given):
[For those of you who can’t see the pictures (it does seem to glitch sometimes) – the words of the three poems were: “We urge her to life… a symphony… enormous” // “Please whisper sweet music wind fiddle” // “Scream a thousand bitter moans… but… worship language”]
That’s my fun for the day – now it’s back to work.
If you have Fridge Poetry on your fridge – lucky you!
If you don’t, you can now live vicariously, like me, through a virtual replica.
Take care you perfectly poetic people, Linda x
The Mindful Migraine 
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