‘Down Wishing Well’ (new poem)

I should be asleep, but first, a poem and a post.


I just got done watching “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.” I’m feeling feels. Kind of surprised I didn’t cry, but I spent that last half of the film thinking about this poem. I love villanelles.

I’ve been trying to write this poem for a while, for the better part of 2013. This film reminded me of it, and of forgetting.

I’m on Winter Break, so I’m really well-rested and have lots of free time. This means I’ve been thinking a lot, which isn’t necessarily a good thing, because my brain moves very quickly forwards and backwards when it’s rested. I think a lot. I should be thinking up a solution for world hunger or poverty, but instead, as I am a human, I’m thinking about my own life.

I’ve been avoiding watching this film for about 10 years because I knew it would be intense, and sad, and make me question things. The concept of forgetting is very scary for me because it’s an inevitability. Everyone is going to forget me and I won’t forget them, I’ll just forget mundane little details like what I had for lunch yesterday or the specifics of my schooling during certain years.

Anyways, this poem is 8 months in the making, so I hope you enjoy it.

Down Wishing Well
By Maggie McGinity

There’s no one on the other side.
Sinking in the turning tide.
Wish you well, and well is where you hide.

There’s no story you can sell.
None can hear you out this well.
There’s no one on the other side.

You never learned how to climb.
Slipping stones won’t make you mine.
Wish you well, and well is where you hide.

Staring at the light of day.
Knowing will not take the dark away.
There’s no one on the other side.

Silvery showers, pouring rains,
Cannot lift you out these pains.
Wish you well, and well is where you hide.

Whisper secrets to the walls.
But whispers don’t know how to crawl.
There’s no one on the other side.
Wish you well, and well is where you hide.”


“How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray’r accepted, and each wish resign’d”
-From “Eloisa to Abelard” by Alexander Pope
“Too many guys think I’m a concept, or I complete them, or I’m gonna make them alive. But I’m just a f***ed-up girl who’s lookin’ for my own peace of mind; don’t assign me yours.”
-Clementine, “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”

‘Songs Outside Their Season’ (new poem)


I’m really sorry.

I’m sorry to add another cloud to this already dark and dreary night. But it’s going to get icy regardless of what I write.

I’m sorry that reading this poem may make you feel awkward, or uncomfortable, or upset. I never wanted you to be anything but happy. I never want you to be anything but happy, though I have no idea how to accomplish that.

On Tuesday, I drove a lot and sewed a bag and ran around like a chicken with my head cut off. I shook some people up and sat some people down and then ate Mexican food with my roommates. I watched a couple of movies, movies that made me feel things, and then I remembered sometimes I don’t watch movies and feel things. So I wrote this poem.

Do what you will with it. I’m not sure this poem should be prefaced with my usual “enjoy.”

Songs Outside Their Season
By Maggie McGinity

In trying to save you,
I became you.

I took the bullet from your hand
And placed it in my heart
Willfully failing to understand
I’d lost it from the start

But dreams, but dreams do carry
Far beyond their deadline day.
This small chance to ferry
Fantasy to reality; what could I say?

It’s not only you,
But a long line of fools,
Who their chances all missed.
Lone and leaving,
I not believing
That dances still exist
Outside these walls
Of springs and falls
Curriculum’s captivity
I could not think
That dreams may drink
Long after their nativity

So what could I say?
Obligation getting in the way
Of any self-preservation
I set aside my reservations
Praying I wouldn’t be left alone
In this rescue mission all my own
For these things never go the way I want them to
But going was all I ever wanted to do

And so I gave up sleep
And all sanity and reason
I took my trust in myself
And turned it into treason
For love and love and love and love
And loss and lifelong lesions
For souls which, from their first birth, search
For songs outside their season

Truly, it was as perfect
As it could hope to be
For we are not what’s sometimes thought
Nor what sometimes seems
An odd alliance bought
By surreptitious schemes
Though motives are stranger by far
They dabble both in dreams

I just wanted to be better
Than anyone’s ever been to me
Baby steps toward feeling
More human than machine
Happiness I’ve rarely made
It’s no great loss to me
A moment for all the help I’ve paid
A cog in life’s machine

Should love be given or earned?
Love is never free.
From everything I’ve learned
Neither applies to me.
Would were I but loved to dance
And nothing else I see.
Would were I but loved to dance
And no one else but me.”

Quotefest, a festival of quotes:

“Happy is Hermia, wheresoe’er she lies;
For she hath blessed and attractive eyes.”
-“A Midsummer Night’s Dream” by William Shakespeare

(A Direct Cinematic Quote:)

“But for now, let me say – Without hope or agenda – Just because it’s Christmas – And at Christmas you tell the truth – To me, you are perfect – And my wasted heart will love you – Until you look like this:

-“Love Actually”

(Lyricky lyrics:)

“Nothing matters
But knowing nothing matters
It’s just life
So keep dancing through”
-“Dancing Through Life,” from “Wicked” by Stephen Schwartz

“Take my hand,
Live while you can.
Don’t you see your dreams lie right in the palm of your hand?”
-“Ordinary Day” by Vanessa Carlton

“She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys she calls friends.
How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat.
Some dance to remember, some dance to forget.”
-“Hotel California” by the Eagles

“A long, long time ago
I can still remember how
That music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And maybe they’d be happy for a while”
-“American Pie” by Don McLean

Now I retreat back into my corner of knitting, cleaning and Netflix. Merry Christmas.

Friday the 13th (new poem)

When I was 16, I broke 2 mirrors within 2 days. Ergo I will have bad luck until about a month or two after my 30th birthday.
On days that are supposed to be bad luck, things generally actually go ok for me. I think the bads cancel each other out or something.

Anyways, poem.

Friday the 13th
By Maggie McGinity

I usually go into December 13th
With five hours of sleep
And a whole lotta hope for the future

Although on this date
A felicitous fate
Is anything but secure

I’ve no walls closing in
No room in the bin
Little misery to measure

No tacos or secrets
I walk without regrets
Awaiting my grand venture”


“But bad luck makes good stories.” – Bernard Evslin