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


12 Comments

Static

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2 Comments

Seattle Coffee

Seattle Coffee
What I’d like to think you left me for

Seattle Seafood
What you actually left me for

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – January 27, 2014


8 Comments

Eternal Roots

(One of the first poems I wrote. Thought I would post for fun.)

With every last breath
Hidden secrets mount in flight
Unnoticed by your sight
Spat down by your conscious mind

With each fallen year
Truths spring forth in search of light
Reaching for the sun
Jailed by your ignorant thoughts

Eternal roots kept buried
Diverged from your view
The senseless witnesses of withering
Spring forth sentencers of youth

To grow old is not to die
But to grow up one more time

When our leaves gently fall
Amidst the dead chill of fall
Then we blend into the ground
Where we wait until we mount

Like the seeds of fallen fruit
Born within eternal root
Our flesh is merely but a lie
To seal man’s soul from man’s eye

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – January 27, 2014


7 Comments

The Gift

Tears are a gift
A telescope so that we might see the depth of our emptiness
And the fullness inside the nothingness

Beyond our sight lies a truth
That one must seek for himself

Be not quick to shed your tears
Instead, shed yourself
And for the first time
See the greatness of the universe

Tears are a gift
A telescope so that we might see the magnitude beyond ourselves
Look and be comforted

© Copyright – All rights reserved – Melindafoshat.wordpress.com – February 20, 2014