Melinda Foshat

Poetry, Prose, Photography


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Her hips across the hours
Tribal- her dark glasses
As we walked in threes through Hell.

Nothing whole
Except a hand size full of food wasted.

Teeth sharpened.
Hawks improvising the sound of flight.

At this point-
Watches
And useless piles of shit.

How many people there were at this Nightmare,

When Dreams piled high with bottles
Have anywhere to go.

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – September 24, 2018

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2 Comments

Forbidden Love

He saw the perfect picture of a story he could never tell. Not because he couldn’t pen the words, but because he alone could understand. This was his curse. To live with such magnificence, yet unable to share it. His vision-those black eyes so full of wonder-they were his beauty. The world would never see it.

I loved him because he was corrupt. Because there was something evil within him, a force to be wreckened with. We all hide secrets from each other. Secrets only the night knows. He was mine. I look into the mirror and see only his eyes staring back. If I listen long enough, I can hear something other than my fears.

It’s not just the heat that turns people crazy. It’s the sound of the bugs that accompanies it. A slow, steady, pulse that heaves and scratches, digging into your skin. The salty moisture of the air on your aching lips- Everyone thirsts for something.

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – January 07, 2018


23 Comments

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
As the ant drowned out the rain

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


5 Comments

Yonder

Yonder the sterile splinter’s wedge of winter on a fence’s edge,
A foreign field of dandies fly, forging toward the speckled sky.
As hummingbirds in all their haste cease to soon the season’s chase,
And Sycamore shade, quick to press, against the seedling seeking rest.

Yonder the battered brim of cobbled path, tread by soles of many past,
There the mud awaits the flesh, longing to make the raw the fresh.
Tainted by the mounting grass, reaching heights that none surpass,
Twisting vines forming sculptures of knot, secrete the wine of grapes unwrought.

Yonder the sag of incurvate roof, giving way to gravity’s proof,
Stands mountains erect in all their might, bowing only to morning’s light.
Sunshine reflects off of sandy shore due to the cycle of tide before,
Seashells remain as the proof of past, that what once was will forever last.

Yonder the day my body dies and my brittle bones bid you goodbye,
In the fields, the mud, the mountains high, my eternal soul greets you high.

RIP Kelsey Justin Stevens

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – August 30, 2013


8 Comments

The moon

The moon lies lopsided tonight
Her crescent: the shards of neglected dreams

It is ironic, that in the wake of reality
It is she, Moon, guardian of ancient knowledge
Who humbly bows her head and asks us to dream

For Dreams are the bonds which hold time and space together

The day man releases his sights from the stars
Moon will sink beneath the shadows of night
Never to return

I can not remember the last time I dreamt
But I know not a night goes by in which I do not try

As long as we dream to dream
The splendor of the universe will bring Moon to her knees

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – August 18, 2013


2 Comments

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


4 Comments

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 of leisure.
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