Melinda Foshat

Poetry, Prose, Photography


My Experience With Tragic Love

Let me warn you against tragic love so you might do your best to avoid it. Where do I begin? There is no beginning nor end, only middle; swirling, intoxicating, vigorous middle. Tragic love forces itself upon you. It is the thickness of breath that seeps inside the still of night, delving deeper and pushing faster toward your subconsciousness, it plots to rip you from the inside out. There is no escaping, no peace of mind. Haunting you in your dreams, it strips you of comfort and sight. It fools you with thoughts of pleasantry before it violates your judgment and takes prisoner your emotions. It squeezes its way inside your brain, forcing control of every last nerve. Soon, each inch of your day is breached and you await the cold, long nights spent alone. You do not want it, you do not wish it well nor bid it remain. Nothing in your power can get rid of it. Tragic love forces itself upon you and when it is finished it leaves the way it came.

© Copyright – All rights reserved – – August 29, 2014

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Writer’s Update

Pray, let this roll I’m on never cease nor halt. It is my every intention to conclude this play within a fortnight and it is much more pleasurable for one to roll than tread through winding discourse with iambic feet.

I am sorry for my lack of poetry these past few months. I am currently working hard on finishing my play set in Victorian England. Best Wishes!

© Copyright – All rights reserved – – August 23, 2014


RIP Robin Williams

Robin Williams
In hopes of being inspired to write, I watched “Hook” earlier today. Having not seen it in quite some time I realized how perfect a movie it truly is from the screenplay, to the directing and casting. Two lines stood out to me in particular. The first line was said by Dustin Hoffman, “After all, what would the world be like without Captain Hook?” And then there was Robin Williams’ line which concluded the movie: “to live will be an awfully big adventure.” It was only minutes after hearing these words that I learned of Williams’ death. It was sad, ironic, and yet devastatingly beautiful in its own way. I do not wish to think about what the world will be like without Robin Williams. For now I’d rather remember him as I last saw him, flying high and touching the sky. RIP Robin Williams, you were a happy thought to us all.

© Copyright – All rights reserved – – August 11, 2014

Moon in Pisces


It’s crazy how truthful astrology is. Every last word of this is true, even the brief mention of being a massage therapist. Every one tells me I have a natural talent for it and that I should do it on the side.


Reflections On A Rainy Day


Outside my window stands a magnificent palm tree. One of its palms reaches to my windowsill. On a rainy day, much like today, I sit by my window and watch the rain bounce on the stems and slide down the leaves. I wonder, does the rain drop jump willingly or does the leaf simply let go? Perhaps rain takes a part of the leaf with it, like how strangers who collide momentarily in each other’s lives take some sort of wisdom. If it’s wisdom rain takes, it must be the wisdom it needs to grow into a palm tree itself one day. How else can something so small grow to be so large? I hope one day I too can learn from the rain and the palm tree. For now I am thankful for the rain and for those who have fallen before me. I am thankful for the palm tree and its courage to stretch beyond limitations. And at last I am thankful for my room with a view on rainy day.

© Copyright – All rights reserved – – March 6, 2014


When I Don’t Feel Like Writing

This poem is dedicated to everyone who has ever stopped by my blog, read a poem, or took the time to write me a comment. Your comments don’t go unnoticed. In fact, some comments I read over and over again because they fill me with joy and give me the inspiration I need to keep writing. So thank you all and know that it is because of you that I write.

When I don’t feel like writing
I think of my characters
And I write for them

When I don’t feel like writing
I think of the great writers
And I write for them

When I don’t feel like writing
I think of my readers
And I write for them

When I don’t feel like writing
I think of those who don’t read
And I write for them

© Copyright – All rights reserved – – January 25, 2014

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Love You…

This poem brought tears to my eyes. It reflects that secret wisdom so often found in Rumi’s work. What a lovely poet.

Serenades of a dreamer...

This poem is a response to Shereen Aljarrah ‘s very vigorous and fervent piece…  “ Love Me

Whirler You make me whirl in your love. Dance you are, you’re the wind…

I look at you not with child like orbs,
but like an orbs of a man,
that has earned the brightness in eyes
after years of blindness.
Before you, who had no idea of colors,
whatever he did know of them was from
the text and the shallow inscriptions.

I touch you not like a Gardner
touching his beloved flower,
but like a soul – a vagabond spirit
who earns all the senses to touch and feel
after uniting with its contender for a journey.
Before you, it had no idea of what it feels like
to be the one with somebody.

I kiss you not like a man struggling for
survival, so you can lend him a life……

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