Torn Apart in Mind and Heart

For anyone

Briefly or lengthily

Exposed to the ravages

Of natural disasters:







Disease -


Or, worse

To the ravages of War



Ruthlessly inflicted

One man upon another

Upon women and children



Laying waste all shelter

And sustenance.

Daily destruction

For dominance!

To annihilate those

'Who don't think like us!'


It must be so hard

To hear Us at Home

Where we watch the world

Like a movie in selected bits

Fed to us for controlled consumption

Who, in our daily intercourse of living

Speak confidently

Of God and angels

And Heaven when we die.


For any such man or woman

We must seem like

Deluded idiots.

How could we not!

But - what could be conceived

As an alternative?




Cynthia Buell Thomas, Mar, 2018

◄ Book on Charity Shelf

Words ►


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Martin Elder

Sat 31st Mar 2018 13:14

heart felt and well put Cynthia.
Nice one

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Fred Varden

Sat 31st Mar 2018 07:25

Sorry, not correction, your poem made me think of a very powerful politician. I was thinking out loud and I do apologise. Ignore my comment

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Wolfgar Miere

Fri 30th Mar 2018 19:39

How is that a correction, what are you correcting?

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Fred Varden

Fri 30th Mar 2018 19:27

Great poem.
Only one correction in that the prime deluded idiot is not mentioned here. A certain political leader. Thanks for a wonderful read.😢

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Wolfgar Miere

Fri 30th Mar 2018 18:14

All I would say is that you shouldn't hold back your feelings they often enable, encourage and hearten others.

Yes, home for me has for a long time seemed a foreign land.

This afternoon I sit in Jerusalem having spent many days in Gaza knowing this day was coming, knowing that people I know are involved in what is happening and hoping I will see them again soon. I cannot even communicate with them now (the state simply shut down the satellites) I appreciate your posting CBT.

You should absolutely post what you feel, always, because one day they might not let you.


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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Fri 30th Mar 2018 17:51

I'm not really sure about the wisdom of posting this today. It's kind of a 'hot topic'.

I never write and post at once. But, these lines came so clearly to me because of Anya's poem, and the real 'hurt' that seemed to come from all parties who shared comments, that I have decided to risk it. The ideas here are not new ones to me; they have long been swimming in my head.

Maybe that's what 'shared sites' are all about. I can only hope so.

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