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Gone.
It’s gone.
Lost in this Wonderland.
He tramples in a sheet of soft hail.
Chills crawl up his body like a spider up its web.
His lips form blisters and cracks.
His ears begin to burn at the touch.
His body turns bluer than an untainted ocean.

He longs to find what he lost.
The breeze hits him when he least expects it,
bitter cold punches in all directions.
The screeches of the wind grow louder.
The mist of his breath in the air fades.
All hopes of finding it are gone.

A shimmer of light grows in the distance.
His frostbitten fingers reach towards it.
The spirit of Jack Frost moons over him saying,
“My son, I have what you are looking for.”
His previously sullen face turns into a smirk.
Mr. Frost embraces him and gives him all he was searching for.
“Finally…” he says.
Warmth.
A winter Poem of a lost man who is given something when he encounters the spirit of winter himself.
Jack Jenkins Jun 2020
My head knows all the reasons not
But my heart is a knot
Longing for you
To hear your voice
To hear you say you're okay
I miss you, old friend
One of these days I'll be brave
But tonight is not that night
I'll slink into the shadows
Drown in the shallows
And mourn the fact
I still miss you
//On her//
Jack Jenkins May 2020
I think its time to have a talk,
A walk over the rubble of once tall walls,
That held a heart so heartless captive,
Lost in halls of raw cobbled things,
That were never really feelings, just things,

Things I need to say, to go over,
All in the name of bless-ed closure,
So sorry that I drove her so far away,
These bereft words, scribbled on a digital page,

Will never convey the dismay of this shipwrecked man,
Who crafted an island by his own hands,
Where he made himself ******,
Where he made his last stand,

But no ending ever came,
Just waves upon waves,
Of drowned dreams and half dead sorrows,
Awaiting death on every tomorrow,
Death that never came,
//self reflection//

Three years is a long time. I think I'm ready to talk to her again.
Vladimir Lionter May 2020
I heard
And my voice
Broke-
That was the end:
“Kennedy
Fell
From a criminal hand… ”
And
My hair
Stood on end.
I gave
A hostile reception
To that
News
on my own way.
I did understand
Kennedy is
A kind
And nice chap. And
He is
Reform’s
Eternal adherent.
In the morn
He lived
During lunch
He died.
Everybody
Lost comfort
At that instant.
“Kennedy!”
Pipes
Blew loudly
“Jo-o-o-hn!”
Dead marsh repeated
The word
Democracy’s
Pillar
Was cut down
Meanly.
Johny
Is quitting
The boundary
Of our world.
We will remember
These heroes!
Johny is
America’s glorious son.
He is among
Home foundations’ adherents,
Descendants
Will be proud
Of him
Under the sun.
{22.11.2015}

СЫН АМЕРИКИ

Услышал –
и мой
оборвался
голос –
«Кеннеди
пал
от преступной
руки…»
Дыбом
вставали
за волосом
волос,
По-своему
новость
восприняв
в штыки.
Кеннеди –
добрый
и славный
малый,
Вечный
сторонник
больших
реформ.
Утром
он жил,
а в обед –
не стало.
Все
потеряли
в тот миг
комфорт.
«Кеннеди!» –
громко
трубили
трубы,
«Джо-о-о-о-н!» –
повторял
похоронный
марш.
Столп
демократии
подло
срублен,
Джонн­и
предел
покидает
наш.
Будем
мы помнить
таких
героев!
Джонни –
Америки
славный
сын:
Ярый
сторонник
родных
устоев –
Будут
потомки
гордиться
им!
{22.11.2015}

Translator - I. Toporov
Khoi Feb 2020
Jack Sparrow had some fun
he
made
SpongeBob
sit in the sun
Bikini bottom
was filled with cotton
and
Patrick
flossed
his
***
Nursery rhyme On Bikini bottom
Jack Jenkins Feb 2020
I spend this evening counting bumps in my popcorn ceiling

1,2,3,4,5,6,7

Heart is gnawing at my mind

8,9,10,11,12

Old washed out feelings

13,14,15,16

No words just

17,18,19

Memories

.......

when did i start crying?
//On loneliness, her, recovery//

Stifling the pain isn't a replacement for letting it go. Breathe, you're going to be okay...
Jack Jenkins Mar 2020
The curtain closes after the bow
Creaking leather shoes start their step
Exit stage left
Applause
Silence

tap tap tap tap

Time stands as still as his heart
and a question ****** his mind
if his words were empty
or just the audience?

He got into this business to hurt
to feel something
It was his drug, after all
But he finally healed
Years later
A smile touches his scars

tap tap tap tap

Exit stage left
'Til death, does he art
Thank you all for reading my works, over the years. I never really planned to stop writing poetry, especially because I feel I've been writing my best work ever. this has been not only my work, but my diary. There's so much of me on this site, so much more than most people would ever know...

I'm quitting simply because I feel it is complete, at least for now. I originally started writing because I was in love with someone who is no longer in my life, every time I refer to "her" in my notes... and I've made peace with it. I'm happy.

Thank you to everyone who changed my life, from here. I wish you all the best in life. Sorry for the burnt bridges, to those I no longer speak to.
Jack Jenkins Feb 2020
I sit alone this half-fogged, half-starry night on the beach
Watch the water seep over the rocks and sand and life
Your face seems to haunt the water between ripples
I draw my heart out to your ghost in the damp sand
Not in symbols or letters, but in words shaped silently
Tears salted like saltwater was my offering to God that night
And I know I chased you off for good but darling
I'll always send my love after you long after goodbye
Darling I'm used to being in love on the outside
I hope to be forgotten by you, pray to be remembered by you, and hope to see you again.
//on her and unrequited love//
Jack Jenkins Jan 2020
Just a blank wall
Stare at it
Memories of her
Tell me where it hurts
The clock ticks
You can't go back in time
Memories of her
You can't make her real
So hallucinate
Drink
****
Sin
Or just stay alone
Your choice
//On addiction and her//
Jack Jenkins Feb 2020
My guard dropped like an anvil from the sky
I never knew I was up so high
So alone
Freezing from the inside
Hiding lies in lust when love would've done fine
//On love and loneliness//
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