Time wanders
inside hours
decades in torrents
feigning blinked sights
all are calmed
ill'd interests lathe
opining scent
seasoned fret
plume of acrid steam
defiance in seuts
castles ilk
foreboding small
allegiance as bound
tethered minds
in trawl.
Poverty's worth in wisdom
Before the minds of oblivion
She, talked, with the moon and stars,
Here, she
In search of love, from those close ones,
But, only, finds her heart apart, &lone.
And she wanders far.
Even every sorrow seems less
As she remains, closed, within four walls
Not a single word has she shared,
to her parents, nor her friends.
Tho' she loves to talk,
But
Solely imagination reside her must self,
And wonders if anyone listens her?
& again she wanders so far.
She is not, what the world thinks;
too kind, but misunderstood.
Outwardly, too bold and too carefree.
Yet, none gazes her grief upon the soul
Cold, unrevealed, a stranger to the cruel world
But didn't care & wanders far.
She plays the part, hard, to be fitted
Why must she, alone, face & tilted?
When theres lot to run &
Increase the pace but only she's chased
Did she care? 'cause she wandered thus far.
11 July 2024 4:52
I feel the road calling to me again
My feet are restless to go wandering
My mind is filled far off places
New surroundings and new faces
Where is home and what does home mean
It is an illusive place that I have never seen
My heart aches with longing and solitude
Making me restless and confused
Dear God! Tell me what I have to do
To get this wandering spirit out of my shoes
I am never content and I am always alone
I get anxious and then compelled to roam
I can't get away from the pain of my past
Lost family lost love a broken heart thats been cast
I long to hear your voice Dear Father
Telling me I am home and no longer need to wander
He wanders a lot
Calls it meandering
Different from a walk
Just a melancholy movement
Passing through the moments
Registering each sunbeam
Following its arc
Watching its dance
Laughing as it skips
Across the puddles
Teasing the hawk
With its shadows
He is not lonely
Nor is he alone
There are those
He takes with him
Telling their stories
To the dandelions
Sharing a joke
With the jonquils
Tossing snowballs
With the trees
He leaves a lightly visible trail
Wonders if anyone
Will follow it
After his meandering
Has found
A place to rest
My mind wanders
o'er the firmament
and the seven seas
Whether or not
it moves me
My thoughts form and
dissolve... reform
in kaleidoscopic fashion
Some display more, some less
passion... dispassion... ere they're ashen
Time on my hands
boon or bane ~
Ever-shifting my view
of sane and insane
Decided to write about the ills of the world.
Perhaps I'd need a bigger forum
for such a vast undertaking.
Now let me see, where should I start,
with the Neanderthals?
Well, methinks nothing much has changed
since we became “civilized”.
Wow! That was quite a stretch,
The word civilized is open to interpretation.
In my wee brain, it means
acting in a civilized manner towards
our fellow *****sapiens.
Listen to the six o'clock news any day
and you'd be hard pressed to find
any examples of civilized behaviour.
Is it just the mood I'm in today?
NO! It's been like this since the dawn of time.
I absolutely DO NOT UNDERSTAND!!!
Can we justify it by saying.
“It's who we are... a combative species?”
There, that let's us off the hook.
With today's modern technology
methinks it will only get worse.
We will all become detached from our feelings,
robotic like the mechanical creatures
that will some day be the rue of mankind.
I don't want to be alive to see it!
A wonder of wonders wanders as it wonders the chosen paths to take along this life trails
8/27/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
AS THE CHOSEN WANDERS
MORTALS ALLEGE OWNERSHIP OF PURE KNOWLEDGE
TO DECODE AND ANSWER EVERY UNIVERSAL RIDDLE
LIVING WITHIN HEARTS AND MINDS IS PRIMAL RAGE
BLACK AS NIGHT WITH THE DEEPEST SHADE OF EVIL
BIOLOGICAL ENTITY EMBRACING PLANETARY MOTION
EVOLVE NOT BY MANIPULATIONS OF PRIME NUMBERS
CONSCIOUSNESS IS A RARE TRANSCENDENT POTION
FIRE AND ICE WILL NEVER EXTINGUISH LIKE EMBERS
THE MAGIC OF LOVE TELLS A TALE OF ENCHANTMENT
WHILE A QUINTESSENTIAL SPIRIT ALWAYS WONDERS
INCESSANTLY REACHING TO UNFURL THE FIRMAMENT
AT THE EDGE OF INFINITY AS THE CHOSEN WANDERS
Written about 12 years ago
aboard a massive cruise liner
I have started to loathe everything about me.
My heart seems pale and dull.
My face seems to lose its colour,
very soon all that will remain will be my bones and skull.
My heart is wandering in the abyss,
the void is deep and killing all the bliss.
My thoughts are becoming dark and deep ,
I find myself on a cliff wondering maybe the solution to all my problems is a long last leap.
I imagine myself walking through meadows,
holding god's hand and telling him all my sorrows.
This worthless feeling pricks and persists,
"END YOURSELF" is what it insists.
My failure seems my own fault,
I will never be that person who is worth one's salt.
My heart is full of regrets,
the smoke of thoughts surrounding me is suffocating me like cigarettes.
I am starting to lose the sense of love,
the line between affection and affectation has started thinning,
the god of death has started grinning.
The abyss is dark and deep,
the loneliness in here has started to creep.
Every step I take here, forces me to weep.
This world is nasty and cruel.
A grave is dug everyday,
take a wrong step and everybody here is ready with a shovel.
Imagination keeps me awake
Noises in the kitchen make me shake
It’s just Old Man Thomas trying to bake
At least he ended here, not in the lake.
Alzheimer’s confuses him, the poor dear.
The neighbors know him from far and near.
We leave our houses unlocked for him
He often wanders at night on a whim
Wildcat
wanders about
among the wildflowers
searching for a tasty rabbit
hungry
2-12-2020
Modern OR Traditional Cinquain Poetry Contest
William Kekaula
Blessed day
New Year
a year in which we haven't seen
And what Justice
Why must us be
Redeemed
Why the populist screams
Free me freedoms from my inadequacies
Why shall I be
Old imprisoned in these bones
While my spirit my mind and soul wanders
Wonders
Been given daily bread
Yet I haven't digested it yet
As I'm laid out of Temptation yet I run back in
Why shall I be old in prison in my bones while my spirit and mind and soul wonders wanders
I may not be the bless but I' blessed
Yes, and I still haven't digested it yet
For my new wonder wanders
1/1/2020
Written word by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
Alone wanders
The white heron
And picks pathways
Through streams wending
A peculiar kind of a bird is he,
Who looks like some sort of bird-bush
(or tree)
And perhaps he goes
And feeds at God’s knee,
Does he…
7/12/2019
A thought wanders lonely, detached, into my brain
Meanders through portholes of pleasure and pain
Settles in a remote chamber of my dullard's mind
Yawns, stretches out, dons a sleeping cap
Drowsy, relaxed -- time for a very long nap...
When -- What this? -- a tiny spark ignites
Leaping to touch its neighbor's' dendrite
Soon my cerebrum's lit up, on fire
Thoughts fueling thoughts
~ Rocketing higher and higher
rummaging through an old drawer of memories
AP: 3rd place 2025
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