To my readers
What you have in your possession now is a selection of my poems written in the past two years.
I have lived them, in all sense of the word, but more than half of them are picturing my people around not myself.
There have been times when I suddenly woke up before the dawn and found myself whispering something. It would take me a minute or so to get myself together, reach my life long companions- my pen and papers- and we noted down the whispers. The first of these whispers turned out to be “Angel.” And there was the next, the third, another, and they still keep waking me up or stop me from falling asleep until we sit together- me, my pen, my Muse- and paint the whispers on the paper.
I left my homeland three years ago; left my loved ones back in quest of my Self. Some of my inks bear witness to the nostalgia that has lived with me ever since. I hit the road outside my homeland in quest of freedom. I said goodbye to my loved ones. And that is the cost of my more freedom. Was it worth? The skepticism in some other pieces is evidence to my uncertainty.
There are always things to choose from- the either-ors- that make you ache all over. The poems that picture choices or roads voice this out.
Martin Foroz represents the true me. It is no longer my identity as a university professor. It’s me risen from nature, taking refuge to nature, inspired by nature, painting human nature, questioning the nature of the impositions that I had to bear with me for years which I eventually dared to address and… I paid for it! Martin is a fighter.
Some of the poems picture the killing pains of wars and the paralyzed indifference of Humanity in black ink- the ugly truth of mass killing, with bombs, or knives and daggers!
Some while ago, I felt the twisting pain of growing until I found myself cracking the chrysalis shell and freed my Self in Metapoems- which Martin signed and proclaimed to the reader.
My quest has not come to an end- I wonder if it ever does.
Welcome to my world.
Winter 2016 – Spring 2017