Martin Lochner Poems

fair Aphrodite
in her pastime
posing mood
gracious
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1

Looking into the sky
I only see
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Let us talk about the price of truth
Estimated respect and quantified dignity

Market share morality…yea... good and bad established
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11

The once fervent Dutch Reformed church and National party
That indoctrinated the young to support Apartheid
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cold objective snaps of extreme alarm
Developing hard won illustrative horrors

Jeopardising wellbeing on every front
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beating my blackness
into a exotic Avatar purple....
blistered firestone skin
that darkened with every thud
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Shoulder blades tightens
as a pair of pliers straightens a laundry line
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Sometimes I find myself reading more into the meaning of a poem that was the originally the intention of the Poet. Probing and dissecting to discover the essence of the author composing it.

I find myself travelling beyond words to enter the mystical nucleus of the artist and what his subconscious is telling me. Poetry is the magic of painstakingly selecting words, structuring them methodically to denote the intended feelings of the Poet and this is indisputably a mystical rite that enchants those that practices her way.
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