Melinda Foshat

Poetry, Prose, Photography


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Enemies

Her faultless nectar courses through
The faults and the routes of my scars.
Reminding me that what once was mine
Is now forever ours.

Her view from the top sprouts fruits of knowledge,
While my ignorant roots keep buried in carnage.
Though her fall embarks from higher plain,
Our pain be still one and the same.

Fruit and Root bound by lover’s hip,
Taste the same on liar’s lip.
Passions ignited by clashing degrees,
Extinguish the same on wounded knees.

Alas, barren ashes exhale all spark,
Yet still re-volt against the dark.
Still, she and I both bear the mark,
The bite of his burnt, black, bark.

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – February 25, 2013


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That Deserted Shore

On the sands of a deserted shore I lie, peering at that eternal sky.
By fate, or chance, or both, or neither, you ventured onto the path less neater.
And thanks be to the God of love; your soul looked down and mine above.
For the first time, orange-yellow-purple-red-speckled water,
Bursting from a boundless view, now just a bit more broader.
Yet with a view a little more vast than that which has ever been known,
You were bound to realize the magnitude of your being alone.
And though I begged you not to go, a moment more you could not linger,
Quickly you went, as I descent, slipping from your finger.

And the tempestuous waves stand still with fear, paying tribute to those gone before.
Those who once towards the sands did rear then sank beneath the shore.
Valiantly they thrust upon the sand, a warmth they never could withstand.

The sea is calm, calmer than the dawn of that first glorious day.
On the sands of a deserted shore I lie, peering at that darkening sky.

II.

As I walked along the waters of that deserted shore in my quest to seek God,
I never once heard him cry out, “Hear I am! Follow my voice and find me!”
Instead––laughter––ringing through the empty air from
Seaweed held under paper trappings.
And the four-legged starfish smiled as it reached to steal my ignorance––
Then, unreachable.
Where is God?
Ask the broken shells and they will tell you––
He came in with the sea and he left with the wind.
As I walk along the waters of that deserted shore,
For the first time––I see the misery––
And hear the groans of grains of sand beneath my blistering feet.
I turn my direction towards the glistening waters.
Alas, I see God––
Buried beneath the ruins of that deserted shore––
Laughing.

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – February 22, 2013


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Love’s Impaling Loss

I.

Late at night I lie awake, cursing the abandoned air,
Pleading to your soul from long ago whose absence too hard to bear.
What is loneliness if it is not my only friend?
Surely, loneliness is more faithful than you.
Still, she cannot give death to me nor she your going undo.
So for now, just one night more, I’ll wait for the return of your departure,
‘Til tomorrow night, I find courage to say,
“I don’t want to lie awake a moment longer.”

II.

You said you loved me––you lied.
You kissed me to steal the pain from my eyes––you tried.
You hugged me and I felt the coldness of your heart
As you bid your goodbye and took your depart.
If only––
You said you despised me––the truth.
You stabbed me to give the pain in my eyes––tears are proof.
You smiled and I felt the warmth of your fiery core
As you stayed to watch my blood hit the floor.

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – February 14, 2013


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Satin Sheets

Satin sheets stained red
Hang heavy on the line
Winds they must withstand
Blow by blow by innocence
Above a muddied consciousness

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – February 10, 2013


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Thieves

I.

Thief in mid-summer,
Take from us our burden plus.
We are fragile as glass,
You are sturdy as grass–
We make fire and you burn.

II.

Thief in mid-winter,
Take from us our sins unpaid.
We are soft as snow,
You are hard and sharp as ice–
Blood stains snow yet drips off ice.

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – February 7, 2013


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To Maggie

Within the depths of his plastic pot,
Her peaked petunias bleakly rot;
Erection stemmed from bouquets of knot,
Yesterday rooted; today forgot. 

Severed roots by pointed pricks,
Lye beneath man’s molten sticks;
Adam’s temple falls ruin to Brick’s,
Morning relics; midnight rustics. 

Fear not the thorn of thy breast,
Without which life would cease progress;
For beneath the teat of thy chest,
Eternal treasure you possess. 

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – February 7, 2013