‘Nonturnal’ (new poem)

Poems appear much faster than clean rooms(hint) and organized/safe living spaces(double hint), so this is what I’m posting tonight.

I used to be a night owl. Today, I learned how to make coffee, and everything has changed. Through the magic of coffee, mornings are now enjoyable, productive times in which I’m happy to be alive and awake. Coffee makes my thoughts sharper/faster, the sky brighter and puts a bounce in my step.

Subsequently, nights are now dark, strange, scary times full of strangers I don’t know or trust. I doubt they will always feel this way, but tonight didn’t go anywhere near where I thought it would, though it didn’t really go anywhere bad.


Anyways. I wrote a poem. Enjoy!

By Maggie McGinity

I saw ears sticking out
All these fears, they wear me down
But today, I was happy

Growing up is hard to do
When you don’t know where you’re growing to
But today, I was happy

Heat is hot, and sleep is nice
All my lot’s through sacrifice
But today, I was happy

I rely too much on buzz
The downers tell me who I was
But today, I was happy

Laughter’s high and loving’s low
The lonely, see, it doesn’t show
‘Cause today, I was happy

Remembering a smile of mine
Is proof(for now) that I’ll be fine
And I, too, will be happy.”


“Set wide the window. Let me drink the day.” – Edith Wharton

“Night is a time of rigor, but also of mercy. There are truths which one can see only when it’s dark.” –  Isaac Bashevis Singer


‘Unto You’ (new scholarship poem)


Hi! I just entered a poetry scholarship contest and I wanted to share.

I had to submit an original poem, not something I’ve already written(on here or anywhere), but since I already submitted it there first I’m sure there’s no problem posting it here!

By the way, I’m sorry I haven’t elaborated on my problem mentioned in my Interest post. It’s kind of taken over again, but I’m getting it to a manageable status again.

Anyways, here’s my scholarship entry poem. I hope you enjoy!

Unto You
By Maggie McGinity

The meter lost its rhythm.
The motions lost their notes.
The boy who took my voice away,
All he left was what he wrote.

Looping pen on paper
Was how he let me in.
On my way out of his heart,
Words were where I knew to begin.

I put them up on screens,
I sent them down the line.
When they glowed, I dreamed;
Failed, I hardly called them mine.

Now the words I could not say to him
(For his ears were a thousand miles away)
Shape and spark
Within my dim heart,
Are born unto you (or whomever they choose) today.”


“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”