Melinda Foshat

Poetry, Prose, Photography


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Off the Record

You say a lot
I note my luck and keep even my voice
But you’re not listening to me

As long as I am
You’re summing me up
I’ll wait for you to take a breath

I gulp
Give up? I’m counting on that

You blush
That’s really frustrating

So, in plain English
Won’t you tell me?
Or would it be too embarrassing?

Lemonade offhand
I’ll admit to that

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – May 06, 2016


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Anticipation

The universe spoke today
It was crisp and sound
I lost it almost in the thunder

There was no death
Nor any sight of a thousand herons passing by
Only the fleeting of anticipation

And for the first time, I listened
To the ant drown out the rain

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – September 29, 2014


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Songs From The Edge

It was fortunate
The way his voice floated through the cracks on the second story
How could a voice so full of feeling glide so effortlessly on air?

She knew the weight of sorrow
She had carried it through the slums
As they watched in windows with discontent

Even the rain knows misery
Who else breaks rain’s fall?

It pours
As she picks up the violin
She knew once how to play
Before she lost all sensation
In the tips of her being

His voice rises
As it carries her to the open window

For a moment she feels light
For a moment she hears the music
From long ago

And the rain, it beats to a tune
As it strums her blood through the streets

(Dedicated to C, and his voice, which carried me to wonderful places.)
© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – September 26, 2014


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Poetry on Photography

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Purchase this on ETSY

She knew she’d
Never reach as
Far as her eyes
Could soar when she
Tangled up in him
And blindly wanted
Sky no more

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – September 22, 2014


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The Waking

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Somber
The scurry
Of dreams
Against the night air

Dawn slides down
Sky’s back
Peaking through
A garden’s gate

Her every breath
A burst of orange
And their feet on fire

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – September 15, 2014


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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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Reflections

I.

Cold glass window heart,

Seal me from light’s honesty.

Moonlight slips past thee

Reflections of a love lost

Shattered, yet never broken.

II.

Mirror’s truth I gain,

Broken glass shards in my eyes.

Alas, I can see

Pain caused by my blood stained hands.

Seen by me yet felt by all.

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – February 6, 2013