Not it be, make believe
back to your hometown, lost
my childhood house, loss
once a favorite spot
in nature that feels like home at cost
a personal state getting back lost
loosed clock
uncosted lost on a vacate lot
my childhood house, loss
condemn, yuck
all, ahhh!! shucks
Can it truly be
make believe, Not it be,
8/24/26
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026
There is torment who tells you nothing except that you are worthy of the devil's persecution,
Elocution might disarm it, but in the beginning it haunts you until you turn to some comfort,
Some illicit comfort that convinces you the pain was a dream and not a nightmare,
In the recesses of stillness and the rest that eludes us, there is a torment that knows us by name,
And hat4es us just the same,
But in the end,
A man who is the first and the last,
Knows a way out,
Find him, grab his garment and let go for absolutely nothing,
Least of all that itch that begs you to scratch it,
And start the game anew,
God love you,
Hold onto Jesus,
And be free.
nuclear readiness requires ten-year-old's to
dash under desks and imagine they are invincible
She dreamt a dream of a requisite requiem far away,
For the unrequited love of life, led her lanky lamb's limbs astray.
To where she'd dither along the moor's marsh land,
Braved the dreary draughts of randy rain and hindless hail.
She'd return without fail in her frailty.
To where the shadows cast by the leaves of the alders,
Speckled across her open back like silver freckles.
She'd sway in the clearest of days, and lay in the ravage of rain.
And in saltier slathers of gold graced spit,
She'd await the pair of goldfinches to descend upon her silver speckled clit.
Await the trill of their liquid song, sung by their acetone tongue ,
Pecking a silver chime over the pleasure of grated groans.
“No.” Her iron lungs lunged and quivered.
She supposed he knew from his exhale and shiver.
Awake, now, lesserly known nor knowing, moreso,
awaken, alone, but with the haunting face of a *** upon her window,
“outside, look outside”
It called, so she stayed inside, unknown, laying low from the randy ravage of his rage.
9/11/2025
Make believe you love me.
Make believe you care.
Make believe it's my fault.
For you're no longer there.
Make believe it's over.
Make believe a lie.
Make believe you love me.
Make believe goodbye.
Believe I really loved you.
Believe I really cared.
Believe my heart is broken,
for I'm no longer there.
still recall the attic room
where I . . .
p
l
a
y
e
d
with dolls
the room o v e r lo o k e d a garden
each d.a.y I would imagine things
and was soon
s
e
t
t
ing sail
on a NEW adventure
under the spell of make b.e.l.i.e.v.e
Why even try to explain, its insane
when I take a sneak peak at my life,
I often feel cloned and unreal.
Reality smacks and I'm under attack
I dream and I dream like a dope,
savoring slices of make-believe pie.
Don't pretend, my dear
Acting all high and mighty
In your heart, I care.
A child makes-believe
a fairy grants her wish
Who would deceive
~ will never receive
It came to me in moon’s soft shadow,
As it will at times, still as the frost
Withering the leaves, branches unsheltered,
Buried in embittered …
On December’s naked chill,
Startling the shadows
From forests who can fill
The heart with a sense of its
Melancholic mist, fading…
Into the echo of night’s brave
Silence, like a lost thought
Stuttering as it flies,
Right out of the mind, unbridled -
Free as the wind and just as passionate,
A winged morsel of a dream,
Never sure it will be, but always hopeful,
Praying in faith, believing
Despite the winter’s flakes,
That spring will sing its perfect grace…
Into hearts who keep on dreaming,
Seeing the sun melt away each doubt,
Breathing prayers of certainty,
In spite of all the reasons for putting
Away that trancelike state,
beneath layers of make believe!
("Creation Myth 101", 2018, original encaustic)
Make Believe and Crazy
A world gone mad
Upside down, inside out
And if you don’t like it
You must be a phobe.
Gaslighting's nothing new
But today it’s all the rage
In the name of a new religion
Of which thou shall comply.
But if you don’t
Where does that leave you
Old and in the way
Or ready to slit our wrist.
It’s all make believe and crazy
No longer's a spade a spade
Now it's whatever you choose
A hoe or rake by any other name.
Maybe that’s the condition of some
But it used to be
It wasn’t the delusion of all
Till asylum walls were overrun.
Now in the name of compassion
Everyone must drink
The Kool-Aid of confusion
Or else…”The doctor will see you now...”
(11/9/23)
(PoetrySoup Format)
Once upon a time in the land of make believe, the daring deceive.
In dreams, there are schemes some strive to achieve.
----------------------------------------
~ Simple thoughts from the heart ~
(For a faraway friend)
Never give up or give in
** Courage can move Mountains **
I love living in my own little World
I'm happy there it's OK.
It's much more fun than the real One
For every days an Holiday.
My worlds,a world without Sorrows
In my world there is no Pain.
There's no rich,no poor,no kings or Queens
In my world, no one person will Reign.
It's a world of many Colours
A world where everyone is Free.
It's a world of peace and Love
A world of compassion and Tranquility.
I know my worlds not the real One
Its only my world of make Believe.
But it's a world I often Visit
If it's only in my Dreams.
There is no getting away
From its reality.
We live in it! Nothing is
But first was foggy.
Sum of all our yesterday's
All our yesteryear's
Pined for, wished on new world's look;
Fulfillingly clears.
What game shall we play today?
I know; let's pretend we're farm animals; hooray!
Everyone, put your hands on your side,
and like our friend the chicken, spread your arms wide.
Now flap around and make a clucking sound
as you scratch for food on the ground.
To be a chicken is such a treat,
scratching at the earth with your chicken feet.
Perhaps you would rather be a duck,
now, ducks quack; only chickens cluck.
But a duck gets to swim and waddle about;
and has the softest feathers, no doubt.
Now, let's all act like we're a cow:
remember, a cow says moo, a cat says meow.
Try not to mix the two up; okay.
Now, who can tell me what a goat would say?
A goat says maa and wears a shaggy coat:
so, who here wants to be a goat?
Let's make believe we're on old Macdonald's farm
with our barnyard friends, who delight us with their charm.
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