Bottled Silence

Bottled Silence

In the sadness creeps
Out the tears do weep
Sorrow waters this empty seed
Loneliness is what I reap
To no one this emptiness I may speak


It's a dark and lonely road
An ever growing heavy load
Narrow is the hope so bold
In this silence I do hold
Yearning as the heart grows cold


As the moments slip quietly by
I've prayed with closed eye
There's no more to do but cry
No matter the audience I seek
Bottled silence I'm doomed to keep

Mesha Z. Flynn
Copyright 2013
All Rights Reserved

Melodies

Melodies

High king of heaven you bless me through her songs,
Blessings that flow sweet and strong.
Fill mine ears lord, fill them with your words.
My heart longs for the melodies so sweet when heard.
Lilting melodies redeeming my soul,
Filling me and making me whole.
I eagerly languish on every chord.
Hearing her praise you forevermore.

Mesha Z. Flynn
Copyright November 2, 2013
All Rights Reserved

What's the Blood For?

What's the Blood For?

What is the blood for?
It's for idiots like me
Who sit in apathy
Who's care has dwindled and died.
What is the blood for?
It is for idiots like me
Who need their soul's altar burnt out,
Rebuilt and then relit.
What is the blood for?
It is for idiots like me
Who need it for their funeral pyre
To be poured upon, soaked through permeating every fiber.
What is the blood for?
It is for idiots like me
Who need a catalyst for the soul cleansing fire
Burning out apathy, igniting a new flame.
What is the blood for?
It is for idiots like me...

Mesha Z. Flynn
 Copywright 2013
All Rights Reserved

Repetitions in Boredom

Repetitions in Boredom

there's nothing new under the sun
nothing new
there's nothing worth writing about
nothing new
there's nothing worth looking at
nothing new
there's nothing worth speaking of
nothing new
there's nothing worth reading about
nothing new
there's nothing worth listening to
nothing new
there's no where worth going to
nothing new
there's nothing worth trying
nothing new
there's nothing worth doing
nothing new
there's nothing worth smelling
nothing new
there's nothing worth tasting
nothing new
there's nothing worth feeling
nothing new
there's nothing new under the sun
nothing new

Mesha Flynn
Copyright 2013
All Rights Reserved

Mema

Mema   (Elisabeth J. Morrison)

Some days I feel like I can actually breathe
Other it is ripped right out of me
Things that I said and others I wanted to say
Times that I wanted to be with her
But foolishly let life get in the way
Knowing that God has her
But wishing He'd do more
All these things push against me
Not allowing me to close grief's door
Everywhere I look about me
A reminder of sits
Once again feeling the breath from me ripped
How long till I can look about me
And not feel my breath cry
For her soft touch and dancing blue eyes

Mesha Flynn
Copyright 2004
All rights reserved

Right Now

Right Now

Rain is falling, cat is purring.
Thunder is booming, dog is whining. 
Phone is silent, lips are still.
Child is reading, staying in His will.

Pages ruffle, ideas grow.
Keys click, emotions flow.
Anger seethes, then recedes.
Soul mourns, forgiveness yet to proceed.

Aquarium bubbles, fish swim.
Lights surge, lights dim.
Quiet breaths, audible sighs.
Failing at trying, heartbeat out of line.

Mind tires, eyes blur.
Rain slows, cat continues to purr.
Thoughts drift, trying to understand.
Seconds tick, waiting on His hand.

Mesha Flynn
Copyright 2013
All Rights Reserved

Little
 

Sirens of Slumber

Sirens of Slumber

Oh pillow, blanket, and bed you sweet sirens of slumber.
I hear you calling to me!
When, sweet sirens, when was our last repose?
I recall it not, but in taunting futility I do recall the melody of my senses as they harmonize in the praises of your forms.
My muscles melting within your grasp as the liquid embrace of slumber envelops my being.
Oh siren sisters of slumber, how I long for my next meeting with thee!
When the cacophony of life drifts distant from my mind and time passes without notice.
Oh mistresses who call to me, who call me away from His task. Who call to me with the preview of the rest where time is forever lost. The rest who's comforts surpass your embrace as peace envelops my soul.
Oh, you taunting trio! You harlots of sloth! Release me from your grasp and tempt me no longer.
Let me face my tasks with a mind clear of your distraction. Let my ears hear without the melody of your song. Let my hands work without the pangs of hunger for your soft touch.

Mesha Flynn
Copyright 2013
All Rights Reserved
 

Cali