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When lovers embrace
I can't help but take notice
this world's love and peace.
It's lovely to see how it's truly all worth it, for the purpose of loving another and being loved.
 Mar 2016 Jake muler
Pax
a joke
 Mar 2016 Jake muler
Pax
why? why do you always see
me as a joke?

why does all my actions
speaks something of the other
to you?

in all your life
did you ever feel
that you're being bullied?

i on the other hand
has been,
always been
the center of
your foolish
jokes...

for several months
i treat you as a friend,
and yet i feel that
you treat me as your
puppet
to feed people as
your entertainer...

have you seen what i feel?
guess not,
i hide it too well
between my laughs
as if there funny
to me,
yet deep inside i
know something
is really wrong...

i wish you knew
how far i've
grown tired
of all the repeated
jokes...

someday
if I can't take it
anymore,
I'll explode
and be secluded
as far away from
your
group...
raw...
 Mar 2016 Jake muler
Pax
ashen smog
 Mar 2016 Jake muler
Pax
loneliness has defined
this old soul.
Bittersweet melody
has tuned my way of
living.

I don't know how much
my heart could stand
the weight and wait
for that simple moment,
that single spark
to feel alive
and stop breathing
the ashen smog of reality.
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1410725/ashen-fields/
from ashen gray to ashen fields
comes, ashen smog...

do they care if I'm loved?

perhaps I'm too comfortable on my
own space and too confined to be bothered.

thank you for reading,
me...
 Mar 2016 Jake muler
Astor
im empty
 Mar 2016 Jake muler
Astor
i want to eat my arms
devour my legs
my heart
every bit of my body
so that i can be a morsel of my soul
so that i can be tiny
tiny
tiny tiny
You've degraded
My meaning of love,
To something,
  S E L F   C O N F I D E N T I A L
*. . .
One line
For all the things
I try to say,

Why do "goodbyes"
Always slay?

Cause not even once,
Did you insist,
To stay.

I said a word,
With pure,
**Dismay.
-

my
face
is a
mud
flat
cracking
in the
lines
around
my
eyes

my
eyeballs
are
dusty
and
my
forehead
i­s a
boulder
defeated
by the
Sun

whole
craggy
mountain
ranges
inhabit
my
cheeks

and
my
m­ind
is a
patch
of
beavertail
cactus
scrubby
as
tumbleweed
in
a

barbed

­wire

fence
After dropping her child at school
the day was a dream only hers
when she could make her own rule
follow it for all those hours.

She would sit on some house terrace
see the busy steps passing by
trying to gauge from their pace
the errands written in their eyes.

She would watch the life of birds
amused how they labored for a nest
and when falling day drew homeward
folded sunned wings into rest.

Spread her eyes beyond the concrete
above the trees far into the haze
where young kites were taught flying feat
by mothers circling the summer blaze.

Everyday all things were renewed
seasons rolled a movie before her
all that even though already viewed
was never bereft of a sense of wonder.

How her hours flew was not known
days turned to years as a rule
her child in no time was grown
no more she needed to go to school.
A tribute to my wife who spent long hours by herself after dropping our son at school. We still talk about it.
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