Drawn to a thronged room, less stept
Than flittered.
Of a sound, less spoke
Than twittered.
Am I, that glade's sole eyed greed
Lain 'neath that.
And I, its but one
Soothed hissed brat.
The rain pours like blessings from heaven
The lillies and ferns dance and sway swiftly
The dry soil turns swampy and soft
It glides away all that rests upon it
The feeling is so vibrant and cozy
The hopeful heart flies with wings far off
Wandering like busy butterfly...
There is a quiet corner
for the wandering~
a place that gathers itself
just beyond the usual path.
Light settles there differently,
not bright, not dim,
just enough to soften the edges
of whatever arrives.
A single chair of shadow,
a small drift of air
that carries no urgency,
only the faint scent
of something unhurried.
Here, even thoughts
walk more slowly,
as if the ground beneath them
has learned to hold its breath.
Nothing calls you forward.
Nothing pulls you back.
It is simply a place
that waits without expectation~
a still pocket of the world
where the wandering
can rest without explanation.
Some say
opportunity’s squandered
as you roam and wander
I say
make the most of each stride
takes just one to turn the tide
My eye is a small brown bird
that won't stay in its cage.
It slips through the bars of my lashes
and flies straight out the window,
chasing a real bird across the sky.
Grown-ups call this a non-focusing,
the eye should perch on the page
like a good, quiet pet.
But I think my eye is a bee.
It wants to land on everything sweet:
the crack in the ceiling, shaped like a river,
a shoe shining like a black lake,
a little galaxy of dust
turning to gold dust in the sun.
And when my eye flies home again,
it comes back full,
its wings dusted with honey,
ready to pour all that sweetness
back into my work.
So let your eyes fly.
Let them drink the whole wide world.
Sitting still isn't the only way to see,
sometimes the best seeing
happens in flight.
WANDERING PLACE GET ME WAKA
Hey, hey heyyy yeah yeah, hey, hey hey O yeah
Elevate high, high, soul high
reach komot touch skies
adrenaline get me wetin
wandering place get me waka
same space different place
i shall no bi be dismayed
placed on top a separate plate
be no on top dessert
wandering place get me waka
sweating mai crown be moist
sweet be the voice
you be mai choice
come close
wandering place get me waka
so beaming down
i waaka di town
mai head up
i hide for dem bush
mai hair needs a brush
wetin di heck
no gi me gimme dat look
need no kudi cause i get cabbage
lettuce carrot you
wandering place get me waka
same space different place
i shall no bi be dismayed
placed on top a separate plate
be no on top dessert
sweating mai crown be moist
wandering place get me waka
Elevate high, high, soul high
Reach out touch skies, adrenaline got me wetin
Pidgin English
8/18/26
by James Edward Lee Sr.2026©
WANDERING PLACE GET ME WAKA
wandering place got me moving
same space different place
I shall not be dismayed
placed on a separate plate
Be no on dessert
Sweating my crown be moist
So beaming down
I walk the town
My head up
I hide in them bush
my hair needs a brush
What the heck
Don't give me gimme that look
Need no cash cause I got cabbage
Lettuce carrot you
wandering place got me moving
same space different place
I shall not be dismayed
placed on a separate plate
Be no on dessert
Sweating my crown be moist
wandering place get me waka
English verse
8/18/26
by James Edward Lee Sr.2026©
I Wonder
I wonder,
not because life is unfair or harsh,
but perhaps it was never about
being a good soul.
I wonder
why I loved life
even when it greeted me with bruises.
Perhaps I am simply destined
to suffer.
I wonder.
And I wonder again,
because I feel like my heart
has been taken away.
I know
you also wonder
I am not in love
perhaps my heart is just empty.
I wonder
At times what makes me feel alive,
And where the spark to keep on searching
wandered into my mind.
Perhaps I am just someone
curious enough
to keep wondering.
Perhaps one thing is for sure
we all wonder.
Every evening I cuddle up
on the sofa and watch the News:
different stories, same crimes,
I'm better off catching flies,
while coffee is perking up,
I definitely need a cup
for a healthy heart
and think straight;
will all promises
turn to dust?
Happiness is gone from this city,
moods are soberer than misery;
get me a beer, it's comedy
on stage: drunk is Vinney!
Hey, the deficit is sky high,
wages aren't enough to buy
an Armani suit to look sharp
and avoid these horrible blues:
I hate the ticking of the clock!
If I think that everything is fine,
I'm being taken for a ride,
who can afford a ticket
to a musical show?
The only choice is a cigar
and I'll still miss the game at the bar,
wandering streets that are dark,
until I hit the empty park
and start sobering up;
watch out for that cop,
he'll tell you, " It's past midnight,
go home, sleep tight! "
I am a paranoid
with feet so cold;
at this hour, nothing is loud!
Where two wandering streams meet, their murmurs braid into one breath;
currents mingle softly, carrying stories neither could hold alone;
in their joining, a new river rises—wider, wiser, learning its own way.
It begins with the breath, a simple, rising tide,
The only clock that tells the honest truth.
It asks you, for a moment, to reside
Beyond the reaching hunger of your youth.
To sit within the center of the storm,
And watch the lightning strike without a flinch,
To let the tangled thoughts begin to form,
But never let them gain a single inch.
It takes a hunter’s patience, still and deep,
To track the way the light falls on the wall,
To wake the senses from their heavy sleep
And hear the silence underneath it all.
It is the scattering of your burdens on the floor,
Not casting them away, but letting go,
To stand before a wide and windowed door,
Content to simply watch the river flow.
You must be gentle with the wandering mind,
As one would guide a lamb back to the fold;
To leave the bitter stresses far behind,
And trade your iron chains for threads of gold.
For mindfulness is not a mountain peak,
Nor some elusive prize you have to find—
It is the very stillness that you seek,
The quiet home you carry in your mind.
Dare I sail
into the moonlight
to greet wandering shadows
that beckon in whispers
and trace paths
with luminous thready fingers
through sentinels of razor wire
who parade prescient
before glaring chasms
of untested fathoms.
IN AND OF A SILENT SOUL IN ITS WANDERING
Today is as still as
A crowded graveyard
Empty of life;
Yet the green of nature,
Shines in living glory:-
As a brief breeze
Passes by,
Silence retains
Its control.
Yet,
Reality, has
Its blissful
Moments:
Chaos left sunder,
As God’s
Healing grace
Nourished
My wandering soul
In the awareness
Of self-worth:-
May the cistern of grace
Continue to anoint my
My wandering soul
With navigating
Divine wisdom
And guidance:-
Of all the birds there is a boss
The majestic Wandering Albatross
It can sleep mid-air on the wing you see
Never having to land on the deep briny sea
As to why you’d kill one, I’m at a loss
That majestic Wandering Albatross.
Sing me lullaby,
I would rather cry
Than try hard to sleep...
And dream you so deep.
Forget of sweet voice,
Yours- always my choice
Lyrics harmonise...
My empty ears' rise.
I might feel your lips;
And wander its grips,
Of lovely words stream...
That sweep off my scream
Off doubt not so pale;
Cum fear, if love fail.
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