Sass O’Flynn grew up in the Wicklow mountains on a farm, racing horses and out in nature. Life growing up wasn’t easy. The educational system did not lend its self to supporting artistic nature or dyslexia. Sass finally found a place to excel. School of Arts in England. She studied Theatre, English and History. Sass headed to the US for a few years. She came to Galway for a weekend, played a role in the Town Hall Theatre. When she is not working, Sass is a Musician Singer Songwriter and Poet. What Joy!

Tension

There is still tension in your Name.
Reverberating sound, course my veins.
Strangles the air to my lungs.
Your scent rises from nowhere.
Nostrils pulse to life.
You are just memory now.

Pushed my dreams in you.
Not aware I wanted to.
Forced a longing that I forgot.
Made you something, you were not.
Traded my need for you to be giving.
Pushing it hard became my living.
Breaking my heart in the making of you.
De-strutting myself – leaving a view.

There is still tension in your name.
When I hear it,
Passing comments fill my head.
I feel heat between my thighs.
Echoes a soul behind my eyes.

There is still tension in your name.
Reverberating sound.
Leaving you behind.
Cast eyes, to Ground.

Holding on to letting go

Holding on to my story, that tells me of my life.
Making sounds so gory, with added extra strife.
There is no doubt or jury that tells me it’s untrue.
Holding on, this same old thing will never help me through.
I make change to every day. Some good, some hard, some not.
Leaving down each broken line, to help my garden plot.

I feel ease in every move, some days things don’t grow.
Each thought I have when reaching out, I do become to know.
The me back then is over now, I’ve toiled to build my strength.
I’ve measured every line put down, filing in each length.
I see my shadow on fresh sown soil, the sun is peeping through,
I don’t mourn the loss of who I was, or what I was not to you.

I see my shape in fresh sown soil, my back against the sun,
Your hands no longer brace my neck, I feel I have begun.
As dusk appears, the garden scent is heavy in the air.
No longer am I a little girl, dripping in despair.
As night draws in, the garden scent surrenders to the sky.
I feel the ground to keep me steady, no longer wondering why.

Burning Flesh

As the Sun goes down on a warring Sky,
Drenched in blood, Children Cry.
Governments surge to gain more power
Burning flesh, hour by hour.
Oilfields land, their only gain
People starve from lack of grain.
Ego’s stretched,
They shout their odds,
Dictating rules like virtual Gods.
Lie down I say,
Feel the earth.
Hear the rain, our place of birth
Speak soft and slow, listen well.
Hear children cry, this living hell.

Lie down and talk
Leave EGO stand.
Reach out in love, take my hand.
Our Seas are choked.
Our people die.
All, because you won’t listen.
Why?