I hate growing up
I hate decisions
They're scarier than the monsters
I used to fear when young
they grow with you; they increase
they haunt you
and worse, there is a right or wrong
consequences, mistakes that could ruin your whole future
guess growing up isn't about a driver's license
it's responsibility, like it's something you have learned
it's caring about others even if it means being in silence
it looks so easy on TV, like it's just another step on the stairs
maybe I watched the wrong movies,
it's more like jumping off a plane and hoping you would survive,
in the sea with the salty water till whenever
So would I go back if I could?
YES, without a doubt, a thought
maybe it was better making faces with clay
maybe it was easier spending the day on a swing, and getting a slight headache
and even then someone was there to nurse you
Yes, life is not easy, and it has never been fair
Counterfeit hope.
Tangible soup.
Soundless.
Nothing tastes like sap.
Vein growth.
Crossed wire leaves.
An old salt mine.
I bet it tastes like salt.
When you have wires in your head.
You can feel condensation.
Hopeful condensation.
a reality check
vibrancy
dig deeper
for peace
abundant
sweet
checkmate
amongst the cosmos
a higher bliss
you and me
this
moonlight
a subtle hum
and warm breezes
old music
and even older poems
poetry
his art
my freedom
our salvaged dreams
forming memories
they are all lost at sea
this is bliss (well.. at least.. to me..)
interconnectedness
simple
wayside
momentous
outdoor
prospects
hold
sway
priming
a reverberating
shakeout
&
increasingly
invite
a
melange
of
hallelujahs
renewing
the
meditative
cognitive
elements
again
RANDOM CREATIVITY.
an
amative
cadenced
conceptual
capella
a
radical
mechanist
memento
to
savour
stimulated
&
serviceable
with
substantive
silken
symmetry
in
tense
text
touchingly
torn
,twilled,
undeservingly
unaware
&
vanquished
by
wantonness
A local past
mind may
transfer to a
permanent po-
sition in the
sane high or
lower ener-
gy than the
incidental knight who
only shows to
know some
thicker skinny fish or
brightly burn-
ing paper ti-
gers.
sat down to a cup of soup today
next to a never-met-before man
about 70 years old or so
he was actually 85, a ‘home-movie star,’ poking fun
lent ear before tongue and pleasant as a
cooling breeze early on a summer’s day
I felt comfortable in his presence
especially when I saw his face was aligned
to speak well of others, and his outlook on life
was relaxed, leaving his shirt to flutter a bit in the wind
RANDOM CREATIVITY
flair
in
configuration
brings
unrivalled
spontaneity
compose
exposition
in
practice
originality
design
with
dexterity
modality
then
depicts
art
innovation
so
authentic
picturing
graphics
so
effusive
contagion
accidentally
lifelike
&sentimental
translates
to
the
romantic
My pen doodles meaningless arches and circles
AP: 1st place 2026
a
bright whispering
stream
ad hoc
parallel
immense
abounding
now
mature
a sparkling
scene
once
abandoned
familiar
cloistered
summoned
now
to
speak
to
receive
immure
tremble
&
increase
this
flood
within
You random, touch me
A true sign you love me.
Beloved, you're the best.
Yeah, I lick my lips
At the thought of a kiss.
You random, pray for me.
You specially pray for me.
My voice gets softer OH!.
I give you eye contact
Beloved, just relax.
I see the God in you,
You pray. The God in me,
Our spirits and souls arise,
We're embraced side by side,
You random touch me.
A true sign you love me,
but love it.
You're the best, yeah.
5/24/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
single deer in field
sunrising as a backdrop
moon resisting exit
The pen is harder to hold now
My head yearns to be slammed into a wall
Maybe then I will finally feel pain
Other than the emptiness
Swallowing me whole
The way I feel God isn't really on my side
abandoned, alone
Like a person damned to be astray
Do I deserve this
Can I feel something else
Other than pity , lost hopes and regret .
I work hard
For years
Yet you all take it away
And I am alone
To deal with the part of me
Which is now gone
It breaks my heart
Leaves it to rot in the core
I can't do this anymore
Being the best and still getting ignored
I can't lie to my own face
"Maybe this was destiny"
No
This was fate making a fickle face
It is so easy
Being happy for yourself when the hard work pays off
What about the rest of us
We try and try
Never to conquer
And the desolation and torment
Don't leave us alone
Even in our dreams, dear.
Now at the end
I am back to square one
Do I start again
And wait for destiny
To play a new cruel game
Always thinking ahead,
as opportunity seldom knocks,
I'm still and always will be
pushing the envelope outside the box.
As what goes up must come down,
if I may have my way and say today,
airlines should sell seats by the pound,
the more you weigh, the more you pay.
History has shown (we've always known),
when American Indians he's among,
all the better to speak out of both sides of mouth,
white man speak with forked tongue.
As stress brings on distress,
employ mind over matter,
and dispense with the former,
to prevent the latter.
If God created mankind in his own image,
as some are straight and others gay,
was God therefore bisexual
or merely dabbling in shades of grey?
A well-balanced world would be bereft,
it can't be all right as nothing would be left,
and almost lost in obscurity,
its axial tilt of 23.44°,
is also known as 'obliquity'.
Random hair blown by sea breeze tickles neck
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