‘The Three B’s’ (new poem)

Fair warning: This post has subject matter that might make some of my more conservative readers feel uncomfortable. At least that’s what my rather conservative friend told me.

The world has definitely not ended on December 21, 2012, and as such, I feel I’m allowed to have dreams again. One of my greatest and longest-standing dreams is to one day have children. I do admit that I think about children much more than a regular 20-year-old non-parent should, but I’m not alone. My roommate Sarah was convinced to cease her vegetarianism(another story for another post) by bribery. The bribe? Eventually having children with her boyfriend(you know, after they get married).

Anyways, I’ve been working on this two-part poem for a while now. The second half is about a toddler boy I had a dream about this summer, a possible future child of mine. The first half is based on a vision I had while thinking about the dream a few months later. It definitely reminds me of Anais Nin‘s “Birth” essay. I regularly and sincerely pray that it’s subject matter will never happen to me or anyone I know.

Now that’s I’ve sufficiently scared you, here is the poem. Ponder.

The Three B’s
By Maggie McGinity

I. Oh, baby blue
Baby new
Baby gone
I knew you

Oh, Lord.
I love you.
No past tense.
I love you.

God, I would give anything
To take your place
To let you live
My life exchanged

But it would be too selfish
To leave the others behind
They need me too
We needed you
Together, somehow,
We’ll survive

We’ll live twice in every moment
For each of your minutes lost.
We know our time misspent
Demands too great a cost

We’ll hope more with each sunrise,
Pray more with each sunset.
We’ll look into each other’s eyes,
But we’ll never forget

Baby blue
Baby new
Baby lost
I love you.

II. Dear darling

Brilliant baubles,
Your eyeballs.
Huge and happy
In your head so small

Serene cerulean
Sumptuous sea
Your sight of my sight
You capture me

Corn-colored curls
Frame your face
Soft little twirls
So full of grace

Dear, they will darken
Brun will they be
Why you may hearken:
It happened to me

Your eyes may bloom
Or stay the same
I’ll not guess too soon
Genetics’ game

Change you will, surely
Grow/go too soon
Become uncertain, unruly,
A lover or loon

But bouncy and bubbly
Gold hair and blue eyes,
Balanced on my hip,
You are perfect tonight.”


“I love these little people; and it is not a slight thing when they, who are so fresh from God, love us.”
-Charles Dickens


‘Friday Night Lights’/’Honey’ (new poem)

Netflix is a wonderful thing. I use it occasionally to watch shows and movies, but my sister devours series whole in a matter of weeks or days. Her current victim: “Friday Night Lights.”



We’re on Season Two right now. I kinda jumped in halfway through Season One when I got home for break.

I really really like this show, but it’s hard for me to watch. It’s hard to see such awesome shows of devotion, commitment, and love in the face of adversity while I myself am alone.


I sometimes feel that loneliness is the greatest adversity. You have to stand straight up; you have no one to lean on. You can’t fall down; no one’s there to pick you up. If you get hurt, you have to heal yourself.

I’ve been quite lonely lately, as I knew I would be come winter break. I don’t have many friends left in my hometown; most of the people I care about and enjoy spending time with are usually at ISU. I actually have some ISU friends here, but I haven’t seen them since before break commenced. I wrote a rather short poem about my loneliness. Enjoy!

By Maggie McGinity

Does not the bee pollinate the flower,
And the flower give honey to the bee?
And yet, in this codependent world,
No one depends on me.”

And now two quotes from prominent and missed females:

“And the danger is that in this move toward new horizons and far directions, that I may lose what I have now, and not find anything except loneliness.”
-Sylvia Plath

“When you have nobody you can make a cup of tea for, when nobody needs you, that’s when I think life is over.”
-Audrey Hepburn

‘Mandarin’ (new poem)/ ‘Don’t’ (new poem)

I have three great loves in this life:
1. My instruments


2. My muses


3. My creations


These three I treasure, value, and care for above all others, though they rarely treat me well in return. Recently I encountered a new flavor of muse which is not at all amusing. I have not been having a very fun day, but I have been writing a lot, short poems, little snippets of songs. I’m going to share two of them with you now. Enjoy!

By Maggie McGinity

I wish you were mine.
But I also kinda wish you were a clementine.
Then you’d be torn apart,
Eaten up inside,
And I’d be doing just fine.”

By Maggie McGinity

I just want a little happiness.
I just want a little hope.
But I’m very glad, at the very least,
You still have it when I don’t.”

And quote:

“So though I can’t imagine how
I hope you’re happy
Right now”
-“Defying Gravity,” from the musical “Wicked,” written by Stephen Schwartz

Transitional Translation/ ‘Toujours’

Where I am, it’s currently November 30, the last day of National Blog Posting Month. However, where WordPress is based out of, it’s currently December 1. So this is the last of my daily posts for a while, and the last of the daily poems for awhile, if you count what I’m about to post as a poem.

In high school I took two years of French during my freshman and junior years respectively. In my second year, I learned a little bit of future tense. I learned how to say “I’m going to” (“Je vais”). I’d had the song “Always” by Irving Berlin stuck in my head for a while.



I took it upon myself to translate the English words in this song into French. I’m embarrassed by singing love songs, but less so when the love song is in another language. Below is the result of my translation. Enjoy!

By Irving Berlin
Trans. by Maggie McGinity

“Je vais t’adore, toujours,
Avec un amour est vrai toujours.
Quand tes projets ont besoin d’aide,
Je vais comprendre, toujours, toujours.

Les jours ne sont pas juste toujours,
Mais quand je vais être là, toujours.
Pas seulement pour une heure,
Pas seulement pour un jour,
Pas seulement pour un an,
Mais toujours.”

More lyrics:

“But I just go on thinking and sweating
And cursing and crying
And turning and reaching
And waking and dying
And no, not a day goes by
Not a blessed day
But you’re still somehow part of my life
And you won’t go away
So there’s hell to pay”
-“Not a Day Goes By” from “Merrily We Roll Along” by Stephen Sondheim