David Floren Poems

From closed nets of thoughts,
Their sterile,
Sad surmises,
...

Frost whitens my window.
Shadow glides past – barred owl?
The brow of the pane swallows it.
...

Cup, you suffer
Fools and cups
Half-empty stuck.
...

Quale of journeys
Beyond any journey.
I feel it in my belly:
The ownership
...

Truth is so true
It’s a problem.

You tell a lie
...

Two would-be lovers
Steal kisses.

If I had my druthers,
...

He’d mean like a man who meant it.
He’d ask his soul, “Who sent it? ”
He’d say of this life he’d spent it
Heeding the narrow gist of “it.”
...

Thick office chatter slips
From “if I had my druthers…”
To gripes about mothers.
...

God is my guts
And ruts in distant roads.

God is my bones
...

Freedom of Information
Is an Act, not a right.
It’s fairly tight-fisted.
You might say unfair.
...