Way back when Em was 11, she was given a book called 'Rain May and Captain Daniel'
by Catherine Bateson, to read at school, which I also read and
enjoyed. 5 years later I only remember snippets of the story. It was
very real book which told the story of a 12 year old girl coping with
her parents' divorce. Living with her mother, one of the ways she
shared her deepest thoughts, was through the restricted language of fridge poetry.
I hadn't heard of fridge poetry before and the concept stayed with me
as something I'd like to have hanging around on my fridge.
Apparently fridge poetry is passe now (though I don't know anyone who actually owned it), however on our trip to Sydney back in April, we went to a fantastic games store that had every game you could possibly want and then some. We left with a new Scrabble set and Magnetic Poetry. (Our house is party central - not!)
Apart from giving my fridge a new look, as I had to remove the collection of school notes and what nots that accumulate under fridge magnets, fridge poetry has been the source of much laughter and discussion. Here's a selection of what we've written:
Frantic storm gone
Music floods the garden
Black does not leave with the rain
There be useless drunks on me ship
Bitter winter love crushes the delicate petal
Shadow light whispers a vision of Spring
Worship my smelly head
Trudge through the forest of language
Lick your smelly head.
Can you guess which lines were written by 14 year old Davey? It's really not hard to pick huh? Davey really enjoys our fridge poetry and was horrified when he came home one day to find I'd wiped the poetry section of the fridge clean and placed all the words back in the word pool lower down on the fridge. Once I told him I'd written all the craziness down on paper to keep, he was OK with it, and could see that we needed to start again, as the lines had all begun to stagnate and nothing new was appearing.
16 & 17 year old boys who visit our house make a bee line for the fridge now to share little gems like:
Smooth knives chant death over sausage
Water sleeping delicious dreams
TVs swim like sweat in black puppy drool
Girlfriend scream honey blood
The boys really work at these little lines. Some of them profess to hate English and reading novels, yet they'll spend a lot of time pondering how to put the odd collection of words that are provided, into some sort of recognisable structure.
I like how our fridge poetry is a mixture of seriousness, silliness, beauty, gaucheness, poetry and mangled words. It's life with teens encapsulated on my fridge door!