by Joe DeMarco
My candle burns at both ends,
it surely will last the night.
As I stare forlornly into it,
thinking of forgotten rings,
Wishing I could change things.
Wishing magic were more controllable,
Perhaps hoping magic is real.
Sleep will not take me.
It is not apologetic in this rejection.
As I try to be like the Red Witch,
Oh, "The night is dark and full of terrors,"
I try to see a vision in the flames.
My aumakua is a Japanese white-eyed,
He visits me regularly,
Three relatives just flew by.
They did not land on my doorstep,
Nor sing sweet songs.
It wasn't long ago,
I saw one dead, and as
it looked so much like my grandfather,
naturally, I assumed he would pass.
Not everything is a premonition!!!
Some actions do not change the world,
And some are more dangerous than
we could possibly fathom.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Joseph DeMarco was born in New York City; he grew up in Buffalo, NY. He has taught seventh grade on the island of Oahu, Hawaii for the last ten years. He is the author of the novels Plague of the Invigilare, The 4 Hundred and 20 Assassins of Emir Abdullah-Harazins, At Play in the Killing Fields, Blind Savior, False Prophet, and Vegans Are Tastier. He is currently working on several new projects.
Last updated June 18, 2017