When Poetry Was Magnetic

Poem written in 2020 with a 1998 Magnetic Poetry Kit.

The other day, I stumbled across the Magnetic Poetry Kit I bought in 1998.  It was one of my first purchases from Amazon, in fact.  They were all the rage for a few years in the Late 1990s, and I happened to be studying Creative Writing and had to take poetry workshops in order to graduate. 

I think I got to the MPK to try to turn myself into a poet.  I always could appreciate poetry, but as a poet myself, I suck harder than a Dyson.  I could never really get into a poetic mindset.  There were some places I just refused to go.  My poetry workshop mates didn't seem to have the hangups I had, subject-wise or creatively.  And I think I bought the MPK to try to break through some of those blocks and hangups.

To be honest, the Magnetic Poetry Kit never really did it for me.  I got frustrated sorting through all the little magnetic words, flipping them all face-up to see what I was working with.  And then I'd get frustrated by the limitations.  And I couldn't escape the fact that I totally sucked at poetry and was an utter fraud, even having the audacity to call myself a Creative Writing Major.  Because.  Everybody was more talented and less uptight than I was.

Even so, I never got rid of the MPK.  It was nearby all the times I've moved since I acquired the kit.  That's kind of a miracle, given that I've lost things that I used.  They're up in the cardboard box monolith that I took up in the attic in 2007 when we moved in here, and we left those moving boxes to unpack after our big open house we were having, to showcase our renovation crew's work.  Those boxes still haven't been unpacked.  They're like Andy Warhol's Time Capsules, at this point.

But somehow, that MPK got unpacked, and has been waiting for me to rediscover it in a bookshelf, all these years. 

The other day, I decided to give the thing a spin again.  Pandemic Purgatory does weird things to you when you know you have noplace to go.  I patiently turned over all the words.  I didn't try sorting them, because I was getting flashes of serendipity as I handled each tiny magnet.  Phrases were starting to take shape, so I started sticking them to the metal bulletin board I commandeered for this project. 

After over an hour, I had the poem pictured.  Something I noticed while crafting my Magnetic Poem is that while there are lots of little magnetic words included, there is not a limitless supply of all the words.  You have to be judicious and choosy.  It's extremely limiting, but where that used to frustrate me, it was oddly liberating.  I'm not entirely sure the poem makes sense, and that's okay.  I am picking up on some type of undertone in the poem, but have decided it is not for me to analyze.  I was the Creator.  Someone else can analyze.

I also found myself wanting to branch off and take this magnetic poem to paper to expand it.  I must might, still.  But I had some other things to do, and I am not a poet, and it's my policy not to revise anything until at least the next day, preferably when I'm in something of a petulant and pissy mood, so that it's far easier to kill the darlings for the sake of a stronger piece.  I've always been a heartless and fearless reviser, to be honest.

In case you can't read the Magnetic Poetry Kit poem, here it is, capitalized and punctuated as I would have, if the MPK allowed.  Don't worry if it doesn't make any sense to you.  It doesn't really make a lot of sense to me, either, and I think this is one of those times when I can let someone else divine possible meaning:

Winter Shadow Moon Goddess
dressed in delicate diamond fluff
a vision of blue glass
white hot blood
and rust
She
Mother of Storm
Friend of frantic Wind
and crazed Iron Rain
soars cool above
the weak repulsive symphony
of these bitter whispers
and black wax dreams
leaves behind sweet mad time
a gift for the Void
She
takes her place
in the raw delirious Sky
to Fly
to Shine

-AprilB 5.13.2020