Madness Poem by Sara Militello
Madness
Madness
They sit stupefied, the mad.
Staring into some middle place
between focus and sleep
only the truly isolated know;
No one there mad enough to share
the deepest disorders of the human soul.
Caught in the isolating malignancy
Of total desolation, not even
that other, finer madness shows its face.
Like times when war wipes out
all sense of waste for those who‘re enjoined
to endure it, bonding each to each
in a common aim even as it enthralls those
three times removed from that finer-tuned
madness known as war.
June 14,1998
The terrible waste of war so strongly expressed as a kind of madness. Yes, it's a good analogy. Good work Tom Billsborough
Thanks for your comment Tom. In the process of trying to figure out how to reply to you on your comment I encountered your banishment and am happy it got resolved....I developed my negative attitude to war by having a son, but even had I had five sons, I cannot imagine how any mother could bbe complaisant about losing any one of them.
finer madness - I agree. I always also thought how strange is that decision - to go to the war, to begin it for every participant. and I'm also too shy to watch that scenes. I know that saints recommend to avoid watching even simple fights of people! you are very sencitive and vulnerable. Sara!
You nailed it with this poem, War is really insane act. To fight without reason, without cause is useless....10 I invite you to read my poems, Thanks.
Thank you for commenting Mohammed. It's always nice to know if others like one's poetry. I will read your poems too. Thanks again!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/22/2024 6:29:15 PM # 1.0.0.1119
The naked truth of madness is quite intriguing.