Josh Terpening

At night I prepare for sleep in a soft bed
The moonlight beams dance all night
Long on the ground, I dig, a slave
Shackled to my shovel grasped so tight—
...

Unholy Feminine Savior

Pale, white lightening shatters traceable trails and patterns - these are instantaneous flashes of pathways of pain, wrapped rather hideously in a pleasurable package. We split our backs and bruised our knees and clasped our chapped palms
And kissed the dirt mount ground.
...

Cotton snowflake white
And two nasal collections
Yippee
No need in deciphering equivocality
...

...

This morning my soul
Mirrors the sky.
Brilliant are we,
heaven and me.
...

Burn your eyes with frozen smiles
Bring the lost souls to bed;
When the steps sink make your while
Into the desert's red.
...

How
Greetings go the response to strangers
In the street,
With such a superficial exchange of words
...

Weeks of sweltering heat
And I recall chocolate melting
A relief of rain or wind
Exchanged sweat for sweet
...

Keen and scouring for hours
In Between a visionary cipher clean,
The banal wisps striving like scratching bubbles.
Yet this swirling ink text must evince squalor,
...

A whisper flutters on the wind.
Point of no return
I have come again.
...

Here is
A bold slant at something precise:
I have wearied my mind on an un-trodden trail to this avail.
And I have pried my eyes wide to see the unseen.
...

You needn't voluntarily twinge
A single muscle fiber.
No,
All one needs to do is willingly
...

waxing mirrors
in the rain,
have i gone insane?
...

It is happening quickly,
Please ascend with me.
Let us go unbound in this rapture of impetuous freedom.
Reigning as subjects reign.
...

On a stale and stagnant night
Suspended between clear and clouded consciousness
I invented a straightway to heaven
Having surpassed the treachery and fright
...

Stammering, a contorted mouth with many questions
Captured an ancient verse to stamp on my thigh
Or on heart inscribe.
It is beyond me, the weightlessness of a needy newborn,
...

We are stargazing creatures
With suns in our eyes.
In the blackness of nights
There always shines twilights,
...

Open fields swaying in the springtime breeze
And blessed Flora raises sweet scented life,
Calling her progenies by color.
And they shout for attention (but we cannot hear them) .
...

The clustered squeeze of tomorrow's empty promises,
Feign the old squabbles of yesterday's dreams—
Upon haughty shoulders she wore her delicate deceit.
...