NaPoWriMo #30: ‘On Lips’ and ‘Edges’

Occasionally I like to flirt with the whole internet at once while experimenting with concrete poetry. This is one of those times.

This poem is a lie.

On Lips
By Maggie McGinity


This poem is a truth.

By Maggie McGinity

Long metal tube
Is my life
Play on and on and on
Songs sweeter than singing

Waxing and waning hours
Ears tuning to the
Reverberations of my
Endless song

Many a night spent
Analyzing the noises
Drawn out of my flute
Energies and oxygen combining

Forgetting all other purposes
Or practices
Reserved for these rounded edges

Keeping calm and secluded
Included only the focus of my
Singing and playing at the same time
Introspection and wordless rhymes
Never knowing another touch
Going where the notes may rush”


“The only woman awake is the woman who has heard the flute.” – Rumi

“Playing a flute is like writing a book. You’re telling what’s in your heart…It’s easier to play if it’s right from your heart. You get the tone, and the fingers will follow.” – Eddie Cahill

“He was a songwriter
Writing songs about a girl
She was a ghostwriter
Lying to the world
In deep anticipation
Of the day that she had written
And by her own admission
She’d be picked up, kissed and twirled”
-“At Last” by Jukebox the Ghost


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