What matters I’m 5
Kindergarten freedom vives
No longer hangin wit mom
With my own peers now
What matters when 15
I’ll be video gaming
Skateboarding, bike riding
Doin some 10th grade studying
What matters when I’m 30
Getting out of debt
Saving for retirement WORRY
Dropping toxic dynamics
What matters when 50
Keeping maintaining good health
Stilled financial security
Medical preventive screenings wealth
Matters what at 70
Independence and mobility
Ableness to walk, talk, see
Pain free living active be
Five Perspectives Poetry Contest
Rhyme poetry form only.
Sponsored by: Margarita Lillico
9/16/26
. 2026©
Written: September 11, 2026, for a contest sponsored By Margarita Lillico
Please listen to the poem lyrics in the sound video
***************
At five, what counts is the moon in my room—
a kite, stones in my pack, and a balloon.
My mother's warm hand, and grass after rain,
The world is vast, and wonderment is plain.
At fifteen, what matters is being seen,
a name on a wall, a place in the scene;
A friend who stay when the whole world departs,
and one reckless love that can break two hearts.
At thirty, what counts is building a life—
a weather-proof roof, a child, and a wife.
To stake my hours on a future I trust,
And learn what to hold when desire turns dust.
What counts at fifty is knowing what stays,
the unhurried morning; light through the haze.
Voices I almost lost tracking for years—
hands that head to hold me midst miles and tears.
At seventy, what counts is slight a thing—
a chair in sunlight, the hush before spring.
One face I can name, one hand holding mine—
and enough breath left to say, I am fine.
He's everywhere
being the answer to
everything & is
the ultimate quotient
Omnipotent displaying
more than sufficient
omniscience
The run on sentence
that makes sense
of everything
The word of all words
a part yet connected
to everything
The maker
of all dreams
lucid & vague alike
The light
in the darkness
but also the darkness
that covets the light
Witness to every reality
with an eye for
all potentialities
This sight for sore eyes
is both the pupil
& teacher
A preacher
with many dimensions
using planes
like churches
It comes as no surprise
to those that learned
to see deeply with
inner eye urges
The immersion
offers you a peek
behind the curtains
unveiling what lies
therein
There are no lies in him
for he personifies truth
in the form of matter
It's the explanation
at the top of the ladder
after questioning
every step that matters
Five Perspectives: ages 5, 15, 30, 50, 70
Born in the Bronx in thirty-nine,
I went to school when I was five;
did arts and crafts, which was just fine.
Loved pretending my doll's alive.
Fast forward then to age fifteen;
my group of friends was number one.
High school and writing were so keen,
and weekend dances brought such fun.
At thirty years, my life was grand-
with husband plus two girls, one boy.
No preschool then, but hand in hand,
a full-time mom became my joy.
Age fifty led to busy days,
working, and yet pursuing art.
With many shows, this painting phase,
and writing poems filled my heart.
Age seventy arrived carefree.
We sold our business, then retired.
Blessed in late eighties now we see
five Great-Grandkids our Grandkids sired.
“Attention is the beginning of devotion.” —Mary Oliver
I keep the pebble safe with me,
Within my pocket’s care.
I turn my bear to watch the tree;
He sits beside me on the chair.
At lunch I smile at crowds that glance,
And hope for friendly eyes to meet.
By night, I search the newest dance,
To keep in step out on the street.
I check the clock to plan my day,
And clear the inbox, one by one.
The heavy keys are tucked away;
Before I leave, the day’s begun.
I test my knee before the stair,
The kitchen hinge complains at night.
I mend the things that need my care,
And leave the rest to settle right.
I move my chair into the sun,
And warm both hands around my tea.
The morning asks for nothing done;
The light has found the place for me.
When I was 5, I loved to play
for hours on a sunny day
with friends and siblings. Life was filled
with sun-kissed times that left us thrilled.
When I was 15, thoughts of fun
had changed, but I still craved the sun.
My friends and I would lie outside
with lots of suntan oil applied.
Then I was 30 suddenly,
a teacher with a child aged 3
While resting in a nearby shade,
I watched while, bathed in sun, she played.
Then being 50 brought me joy.
My daughter said a girl or boy
would soon arrive, and so began
my sunny-day-with-grandchild plan.
Now, long-retired at 70,
with grandkids grown, I long to be
great-grandma with a little one
joyously playing in the sun.
When I was only five.
My dolls were the big thing,
we would sit and sing.
Then my tricycle I learned to drive.
At fifteen I was dating.
Boys were sure fickle,
some of their words were like a pickle.
We loved to go roller skating.
Now thirty is life half over?
Today is a new day,
no more hair of gray.
Maybe I need a new makeover.
At fifty should I retire?
Many days are way too long,
is life a game of ping-pong?
Some days I feel like I want to expire.
I never thought I would reach seventy.
Here I am,
drinking hot tea and eating strawberry jam.
Seventy is fun and not my enemy.
At last count Saturn had 293 moons
One is larger than Mercury, 128 solar system M & M's
But, if somehow we could mount his wings and fly there
We couldn't stand upon the surface and gaze at any
We would sink in the miasma of our own demise
Ingesting vapor rising up from far below
Choking off any aesthetics we might hold
For any goddess that we have imagined
Our ticket to this underworld held over
A head that's thinking we should capture Titan
Artemis, Diana, or Selene might pale before them
But wouldn't pale by what's reflected there
Artemis retaining her ire and her vengeance
Selene and Diana at the crossroads stand as well
Their color eclipsed the while they faded
And we, whose love it is to gaze up at their orbit
Would lose the inspiration of the ages
Aged without the grace of beauty's presence
That our small world o'er time has thus afforded
Size matters... but no more than our perspective
What Matters
At five, what matters is laughter and play,
A hug and a story to brighten the day.
A toy, a sweet treat, a kiss goodnight,
And knowing the world will be safe and right.
At fifteen, what matters is fitting in,
A best friend beside you through thick and thin.
A secret, a crush, a dream to pursue,
And hoping the whole world believes in you.
At thirty, what matters is love and a home,
A family to cherish wherever you roam.
A career, a purpose, a dream to achieve,
And finding the courage to love and believe.
At fifty, what matters is time passing fast,
The people and moments you hope will last.
The lessons you've learned, the memories made,
And knowing the choices you’ve bravely displayed.
At seventy, what matters is love that remains,
The joy in the sunshine, the dancing of rains.
The stories you've lived and the hearts you have touched,
And knowing you mattered that matters so much.
At five, the world is leisurely and small,
tiny enough to fit inside my hand~
a pebble pocketed from the sidewalk,
a leaf, the outside world, I innocently understand
At fifteen, the world is hurried and expanding,
tilting toward faces in crowded halls~
I ponder who I’m becoming, studying
the mirror and glances steadying schoolroom walls.
At thirty, the world is broadening, the hours frantic,
asking for purpose in their spin and span~
the invisible but deliberate shaping
of the burgeoning person I began.
At fifty, the world is stable, days balanced and clear:
what shall stay, what shall fall away~
I keep the people and moments that ring true
and let what remains dissipate and decay.
At seventy, the world is unsteady, the pace softening slow:
the morning opens wide~
small moments, bright with quiet grace,
find room to rest inside.
Reality is
that only you can decide
what matters in life
When I painted this poster of my life
There was so much black and so much red
There was no yellow or blue
Just tan and blain
When the rainbow was cast
The shadows of what has been were colored
But what type of color was it
You see when darkness lurks all around
The grays seemed attractive to me
So what I saw as beauty was really ugly
How my life was then was no climb only falls
How do I fall if I won't climb that is the question that I needed to answer
When you step on those around it may seem you climb
You seem to reach the highest peak but the illusion is you really fall
Farther away from reality
It's a curse a self destruct button
It can only take you so far then the void locks you in
To put a poster out there of my life you would think it is no masterpiece but what is a masterpiece to you
To me it is what I try to color now
Life now as a canvas for change you see the blacker the canvas the whiter the reality could be
So take that brush the thoughts in you mind and search out for what a real work of art could look like in your own eyes because in the end that is all that really matters.
To suffer in the flesh, is to evolve in spirit.
Patience, love, or wisdom. A major pivot.
Life is about what you seek beyond sight.
When you fight for belief to be led by what’s right.
What matters most should gain your best.
What matters less should be slain to rest.
As i consider, posterity and the multiverse
Of titular? Though my efforts be known as un-dignified, it observe at the very least they may become signified.'
Neverending steps standing firm;
I am found statured under the yellow sun;
Pleasantly violent blinded by the sight;
Of the solar event brilliant light;
Blaise brilliant burning planet;
Fire needed Light matters;
~
I shy away though I stand shining;
And if you were to ask why i'm beaming;
I stand ever tall not leaning;
Solid Ezra as a rock mountain gibraltar;
Blaze, brilliant soul fire;
Flame praising Light matters;
5/23/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
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