Messy/’What a State’ (new poem)

So my room was messy. And then I packed some of it up and went on Thanksgiving Break. And now I’ve been back for five days and I’m still not unpacked and the room is messier than ever.


I’ve been trying to clean for a while. Example: this poem, written to my roommate on September 25. It’s an uphill battle, but I may tackle some of it tonight. Enjoy!

What a State
By Maggie McGinity

Dear Sarah,

Our room is a mess
And it’s causing me stress.
Is it bugging you, too?
Here’s what we should do:

Tonight, we (I) will clean
To the best of our means.
Make things nice and neat.
Won’t that be a treat?

We’ll vacuum and sweep
Then our room we will keep
In this state for days
With a chore chart as our aid.

So knowing what’s at stake
A chore chart we must make.


P.S. For fun that never stops,
Let’s put up our wall pops!”


“Come on in, I’ve got to tell you what a state I’m in
I’ve got to tell you in my loudest tones
That I started looking for a warning sign”
-“A Warning Sign” by Coldplay


Pablo/ ‘(Dramatically)My Dreams’ (new poem)

Some poets make love poems, and love itself, look easy. I myself rarely write love poetry, because I rarely fall in love without becoming someone or something I hate in the process. Sometimes I think I secretly live to sigh, and my heart just pretends it wants to be happy because it’s expected to. But I like laughing too.

Anyways. Love poems. Pablo Neruda wrote some good stuff. Example:

I share this lovely poem with you because I referenced it in the poem posted below. Enjoy!

(Dramatically)My Dreams
By Maggie McGinity

My God
And other hearts’
May we always sing freely
Of your loves and laws and

My world
May I always write freely
With weight and worth and

Pride, may you
Pass away without perplexities
I wish to live and love
Without you
Or complexities

Sloth, may you
Fall off the feet
Of persons who could better
But rest on ‘I could never

My heart
And other hysterical
May you always love freely
Regardless of rules and rounds and

My brand
May you always move freely
With growth and hope and

Ambition, may you
Analyze and attack
Consume my calories
Secure success stories
Before my vision fades to black

Fate, may you
Fold into the seams
Of my longing
As for to bring to
(Dramatically)My dreams”


“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.”
-Eleanor Roosevelt


“If I ever feel better
Remind me to spend some good time with you
You can give me your number
When it’s all over I’ll let you know”
-“If I Ever Feel Better” by Phoenix

‘Ears’ (new poem)

The song I’m working on for my Musical Theatre I final has me thinking a lot about ears recently. Some people’s ears are boring, but some people’s ears are a very distinguishing feature. Occasionally I actually notice a person’s ears before I notice any other feature.

My cousin actually has pointed ears and therefore we claim he is a leprechaun. But I’ll write about those creatures another time. Enjoy!

By Maggie McGinity

Now seeing

First sight
Can’t hide
Too soon

I know
You know
I saw you

You know
I know
You saw me

But I didn’t faint
Or flame
Or flee

What an


“How I’m hoping that his eyes and ears won’t misinform him.”
-“Will He Like Me?,” from “She Loves Me” by Bock and Harnick

‘Peach Cobbler’ (new poem)

How to scald a peach:
1. Dunk the peaches into a boiling water. Remove after 40 seconds.
2. Submerge the peaches in a bowl of ice water, and allow them to cool completely.

Abridged from How to Easily Peel Peaches

This summer I learned how to make peach cobbler.

It was delicious. But this semester I feel more like the peaches I learned how to scald. Blazing hot, then freezing cold. Especially now that winter’s coming and I can’t find compromise between the freezing outdoors and overheated indoors. Alas, I shall ne’er be comfortable again. At least not ’til spring. Enjoy the poem! 🙂

“Peach Cobbler
By Maggie McGinity

I have grown soft
And weak
And fragile as a peach
You scald the skin off me

So much easier than peeling
Back the layers of my soul
Drop me in boiling water
Then drench me in the cold

Rip me apart
Rip me too soon
I’m mush in your hands
Metaphor for “to swoon”

I shed my skin simply
At your request
Not daring or dimply
My insides undressed

Cut me with a knife
Or just words without letters?
Slice away. This peach life
Isn’t getting any better

Now I’m in pieces
Placed in a dish
You render me speechless
Grant me one last wish?

Please don’t hide me away
And leave me to bake.
Trapped in this scorching space,
With no way to escape?
Darling dearest,
Never near-est:
It’s more than I can take.”

So many quotes!

“What is hell? I maintain that it is the suffering of being unable to love.”
-Fyodor Dostoyevsky

“If you are going through hell, keep going.”
-Winston Churchill

“You better grab a hold and hold on for your life
Because you don’t get lucky twice”
-“Without the Bitter the Sweet Isn’t As Sweet” by Mayday Parade

‘Toss Inside the Key’ (new poem)

I feel like a canary in a coal mine.


I don’t sing as much as I used to, and I take it as a bad sign. Anyways, I found a poem I wrote this summer which is also about caged things. Enjoy!


Toss Inside the Key
By Maggie McGinity

Bound and tied and gagged
You could never hurt me
Locked inside a cage
You could never hurt me
Toss inside the key
You could never free me
You can’t come near me
And you can never free me

You held my tongue with your words
You broke my home with your hurt
You tore my Truth with your Pretend
You left me lying in the end

You placed me in this cage
Asked for me to wait
So I did
Oh, I do
Not knowing what I’m waiting for

The door swings open
But I can’t see
Could I escape?
Do I have wings?
When you live for tomorrow
And not today
What do you do when tomorrow
Goes away?”


“The truth will set you free. But not until it is finished with you.”
-David Foster Wallace

‘Laundry Day’ (new poem)

So it’s laundry day.


Tonight is the last night I spend in my hometown for a few weeks. Tomorrow I go back to Iowa State at the end of Thanksgiving Break. I’m washing clothes before I go because it’s free here. I’m busy and tired packing today, so I wrote a short acrostic about what doing laundry at Iowa State is like. Enjoy!

Laundry Day
By Maggie McGinity

Legs are sore
And my arms hurt
Nightgowns and skirts
Down the stairs and
Round the corner
Yes! There’s a machine open

Detergent, wash, wet clothes
And the only open dryer’s broken
Yeah, this is the way it always goes.”

Silly quote today:

“It is better to have loved and lost than to have to do forty pounds of laundry a week.”
-Laurence J. Peter

‘It’s a Mystery’ (new poem)

Last night I encountered a mystery, and it reminded me of a poem I wrote this summer.


This summer I found myself in a rather unfortunate situation. So instead of focusing on my own problems, which seemed insurmountable, I tried to help someone else overcome theirs. This person didn’t ask for my help, but some people who knew this person asked me to help, and I thought, “Why not? I can’t save myself, might as well try to save someone else.”

It didn’t work. I’m told I did make progress, but circumstances became such that I couldn’t really help any more. Nonetheless, before that happened I wrote this poem. Broken people and I have interesting friendships which I do not always understand, and that is what this poem is mostly about. Enjoy!

It’s a Mystery
By Maggie McGinity

It’s a mystery
What you do to me
When you stare into my eyes
It’s a mystery

It’s a mystery
Why I can’t see
Behind this thin disguise
It’s a mystery

There’s a disconnect
Between my intellect
And what I recollect of you
There’s discrepancy
Between you and me
And the places we’re heading to

I love the attention you pay to me
When you can recall
But it seems like your consistency
Is too much love for all
My only speciality
Is the too hard, too fast fall
But is that this? That’s the mystery
Which haunts me down the hall

I know, I know much better
Than another green-eyed boy
They taunt me, tease me, turn me out,
Make me their little toy
Their nothingness they shout
Like it’s their greatest joy
I know so so much better
Than another green-eyed boy

But they say there’s something underneath
Something I want to find
Though that something behind the sheath
I may never claim as mine
Just the single chance to prove
“You’re not like you, you’re like me!”
A broken soul with a broken goal
All for the mystery

It’s a mystery
What you do to me
When you stare into my eyes
It’s a mystery
Why I can’t see
Beyond this damaged life
It’s a naïve greed
Distracting need
To get me through the night
It’s a mystery:
All I want for me
Is a chance to set you right.”

Two quotes:

“It is only through mystery and madness that the soul is revealed”
-Thomas Moore

“Mysteries are not necessarily miracles.”
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe