NaPoWriMo #21: ‘The Air in Carnegie Hall’ & #22: ‘Constant Company’

Let’s get real for a minute. As I unpack my clothing, food, and souvenirs, so shall I also unpack my feelings and thoughts.

First off, allow me to express my annoyance and apologies that #19 ‘Building Blocks’ was not published when I was told it was, but instead had to be published very recently.


I’m also presenting kind of an epic post now. One poem is very short and situational; the other spans the last 48 hours. Enjoy!

The Air in Carnegie Hall
By Maggie McGinity

The air in Carnegie Hall
Is cold.

The white and gilded walls
Are cold.

The anxious air of that place
Offers to me few charms.

Would you kiss the face
Of a father made of gold
Who could never hold
You in his arms?”


“If gold rusts, what then can iron do?”
-“The Canterbury Tales” by Geoffrey Chaucer

“Wild honey smells of freedom 
The dust – of sunlight 
The mouth of a young girl, like a violet
But gold – smells of nothing.” – Anna Akhmatova


Constant Company
By Maggie McGinity

I would like to sit,
And talk,
But we must walk, and walk,
Go go go
To and fro
Whichever is deemed the best direction
By the smart phone.
And I,
Being so obnoxiously shy, I,
Who cannot scream and shout,
And will not be left out,
Do mutter under my breath
How much for I long the death
Of this bullying behavior.
Time the only savior.

So quickly do I see
That those I love and those I hate
Keep such constant company
That I could not separate
Myself from one without risking the loss of the other.
So I wait, then run for cover.

Are the peals and bells
Of my laughter
Prizes to be won?
I cannot tell
In this hereafter
What is to be done.
I still don’t get this dynamic.
Mine is always piano,
So far outside of this ensemble.
I miss my hammock,
But I won’t go back, no,
For there the silence assembles.

Truly, this was a nice change.
Some new faces for the play
That goes on behind my closed eyes
Every sweet and slumbered night.
Yes, it was a different scene,
A nice break from the same routine
Of my heart constantly beating:
‘Not mine. Not mine. Not mine.’

I wish I had a constant company
Of players who would follow me
To the ends of the Earth,
Or the end of the street,
Or where’er our eyes might meet.

But oh, the eyes
Of I,
So ridiculously shy,
Do not dare to try
In the presence of butterflies.

Did he really just say that
And look right at me?
Am I imagining things?
Why couldn’t I say anything back?
Next to me
For it seems so much of this time spent
Is simply a social accident.

So there’s someone I like, a lot.
More than I thought
I would. I hope he has not already forgot
That I exist.

I don’t know if I want him to read this.”


“I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. 

I do not think that they will sing to me.”
-“The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot

It’s like forgetting the words to your favorite song
You can’t believe it
You were always singing along
It was so easy and the words so sweet
You can’t remember
You try to feel the beat

You spent half of your life trying to fall behind
You’re using your headphones to drown out your mind
It was so easy, and the words so sweet
You can’t remember
You try to move your feet”
-“Eet” by Regina Spektor


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