Melinda Foshat

Poetry, Prose, Photography



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
As the ant drowned out the rain

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



That Day

I died––that day
It was cold––his breath
When it chased––the warmth
From my gaping chest

Eternal––that night
They were black––his eyes
When they bound––the light
From my bloodshot sight

Yet I––pretend
Passion mocks––the wind
When the heart––it bleeds
Every color but red

© Copyright – All rights reserved – – July 3, 2013



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 – – February 25, 2013


To the Broken

Lose yourself in the crevices of lovers’ lips
Where drunken delirium abounds 
Let the Moon in all her splendor 
Lead your miseries to drown 
She guides the tides of passion to 
The sands of conscious shores
And when the waves of pleasure pass
Broken shells you will adore

© Copyright – All rights reserved – – February 5, 2013