Thoughtful Tuesdays: Fractured Foundations

By Eithne Cullen

For me, ‘Fractured’ as a theme also resonates in the ways we write and the way we approach our creative lives. During the summer, I was fortunate to see the Tracey Emin and Frida Kahlo exhibitions at the Tate Modern. These were such thought-provoking exhibitions, with so much to say about the way these two women’s lives and experiences informed the way they went on to create. Both faced difficulties in their lives, but used the fractured foundations of their creative lives to build impressive bodies of powerful, visual art.

The first poem I’m sharing is an assertive piece about having the right to say what we want, without being held back. It also creates a clear picture of how someone sees her own mental state, the reference to a fall fits perfectly with our theme.

These Are My Feelings

They say that life will get better,
They say just beyond the bad is good,
My mind speaks, saying forget her,
My mind is right, everyone should.

It would be so much easier for all,
My thoughts don’t help anyone else,
Since my mental state has had a fall,
Life seems to be so full and complex.

I get in the way of people around me,
A bother and a nuisance to others,
This is the way my mind wants to be,
For me, my mind and body suffers.

For other people I cause trouble,
I make people constantly worry,
I can’t help it when I struggle,
A lot of the time feeling sorry.

© Nicki Maybel, 2026

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Thanks, Nicki, for sharing that personal piece.

With November, comes remembrance. We remember the world suffering in all its conflicts and wars. With this in mind, we think of the way humans fracture the world – destroying so much and causing such pain. The following pieces take a look at aspects of war.

First, this poem from Gloria. I love the way she uses colours and textures to create this picture of war.

Digging

Digging

Salty wind-swept damp grass beneath my feet

Digging

Sea sodden yellow brown mud
It slides and shifts across my hands, fluid and smooth

Digging

Feldspar and clay grit rubs through my fingers
Sharp edges nip and scratch my soft pink finger pads

Digging

Slabs of seal brown mud
Satisfying weight in my hands
Imprints of life lines from my hands

Digging

Burnt sienna
Jagged edges
Flint stone
Bowl

Gun
Gunmetal helmet
Tattered grey brown army jacket
Was he young?
I’ll never know
God bless his soul

© Gloria Maloney, 2026

 

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Of course, war can also displace people and force them to look for safer places to live. This story explores one person’s choice to leave his family in search of a better life.

Escape From Poland

Even though it was wartime, Bronislaw had made a secret and perilous trip down to Gliwice from Warsaw to visit his family, as he might never see them again. Word of the hideous acts that were taking place against the Jews, as well as any advances made by Hitler or Stalin, was spreading fast. Poland was being squeezed like a great pimple from either side by two ruthless despotic leaders.

The three of them, Bronislaw, his brother Edmund and Mother Louise sat up late one night having one of those life-altering discussions. Louise’s request, “Bring more logs for the fire, and don’t forget the kabanos!” being swifty answered by her sons.

“You don’t need to apologise,” said Bronsilaw. “We know how life is. Though I’m sure it’s far worse in the city; back there, people are starving on the streets. One day it’s Stalin taking another pop at us, the next Hitler. Though Stalin is far crueller, what with his purges of the Poles, like the time they took countless trainloads to an isolated spot and left them to starve. At the mercy of the elements and the wildlife.”

Edmund took Bronislaw and Louise by their hands and raised his voice slightly. “I don’t want to change the subject as it may make me seem heartless, wanting to talk about my own survival.”

Bronislaw turned to Edmund gently. “Not to worry, you’re only looking out for yourself. I do it all the time in Warsaw, trust me. The war does strange things to men.”

“Evil, you mean,” said Louise, over the two of them.

Edmund let her speak for a minute; she was their mother after all and deserved respect.

Louise carried on. “I’m staying here; you won’t get me to move an inch from Gliwice. I think we’re far safer in the countryside away from the troubles.”

“I agree,” said Edmund, with an intense stare. He went on to describe his plans in a tremulous voice. “I’ve considered every aspect of my future.”

“And what conclusions have you come to?” said Bronislaw, his tone benevolent.

“With everything going on in Poland right now, I’m thinking of escaping to England.”

His mother said, “Have you gone mad? What about me, your father and the rest of the family?”

“I love you all like crazy,” he said. “But there’s a better life ahead of me.”

She replied, her eyes welling up, “I understand, but it’s still difficult.”

“Whatever happens, I’ll never stop thinking about you all. And I’ll do everything I can to protect your memories, as well as sending over what money I can.”

His mother enveloped him in the longest hug – so tight he couldn’t breathe. Eventually, her over-zealous grip eased and she released him.

“The first opportunity I get to visit, I will.”

Louise’s whole body was shaking with emotion. Taking hold of Edmund’s shoulder, she pulled him closer again. “Do you really have any idea how you’ll make the trip?”

With misty eyes, Edmund gazed into the distance. After a while, he coughed and spluttered out, “I have friends who are considering becoming asylum seekers to get to England.”

“But you’re in the army, it’s different for you!” she exclaimed.

“I know,” he said. “Maybe I’ll just do a runner across the fields in the dead of night.”

His mother looked on with shock. “And you really think that’s safe?”

“Of course not, but plenty of folk have done the same. If they can do it, so can I.”

Knowing how stubborn he could be his mother didn’t say a word. She knew, once he got an idea into his head, that was it.

“There are plenty of risks on that long journey. There’s a route which most migrants take through Germany, France and up to England. Or you can go through Austria, Hungary and Switzerland.”

With the dreaded words Germany and Austria, great tears rolled down her cheeks. Lovingly, he took her hand, giving her three kisses on the cheek. “When I get to England, I have all these amazing plans for buildings that can only be realised in a country where there is less censorship than Poland.”

Bronislaw said, “I understand why you want to go, I do too. But as I live here, there’s not much I can do. Do you think it will be so much different in a country so far away?”

Edmund pulled his brother closer and lowered his voice. “Over here, you can barely build anything in case it has the wrong message within its walls or within its structure. Anti-Russian sentiment isn’t allowed.”

Before Edmund went back to the camp, Louise made sure he had what he needed: a map of Europe, torches, batteries, rations. He stashed the small rucksack under his mattress for the day when he would leave.

Several weeks later, Edmund was back at the barracks on his military service. The night before, he’d gone to bed with all the other men, but come the morning he’d disappeared. When he was expected to turn up for roll call with the men, he never arrived.

Krystof, one of Edmund’s friends, stood to attention with the squadron of men and shouted out to their superior: “I think Edmund and some other officers escaped last night.”

© Nicholas Vaughan, 2026

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The final piece, from Allan Lochhead, begins with the backdrop to the end of war and catalogues memories of growing up in a happy family. Of course, he also captures some of the ups and downs of family life:  his line Separation and fatigue giving us a flavour of some of the more fractured aspects of bringing up a family in those times.

Images Of A Family

The guns fall silent over a World greyed by War.
Under a new sun, new life stirs and colours brighten again.
Two young people meet, a splash of colour. Auburn hair and a ginger tweed suit and bright blue shirt.
A walk, a dance, a concert.
That storm at Knole. Love in the rain.
A wedding.
A blur of ecstasy.
St Mary’s or was it St Nicholas?
New hope and vigour.
Anticipations and best intentions
for a happy fruitful life.
Two rooms, two babies, a fledging family.
A cold foggy night in February arrives the third.
Anxious times.
The startling effect of the telephone’s ring.
A premature fourth.
Relief at a weighty fifth.
Brood complete.
Times of trouble, Mum in hospital, Dad in Australia.
Long awaited letters thumping joyously on the door mat.
Separation and fatigue.
Struggle and survive.

Holidays, picnics and bracken.
Pastel blue skies and Atlantic wind whipping through tousled curly hair and thick knitted jumpers.
Daisy chains and Thermos tea.
The Needles explained.
A procession of Dad, five young ones, Mum at the rear, cajoling and rounding up.
Dad striding out, extolling the velocity of sound to the wind.
All walking the path together.
Tents in gardens, tin-can telephones, smoke signals summoning a pow-wow.
The children’s paradise, the magical world.
Games of schools, weddings and dressing up.
A cacophony of happy sounds and laughter.
Childhood traumas, bicycles, berries, garden forks, scalding tea, wounded knee.
Mum come quickly!
A and E.
A village life, full of church and friends and fetes and concerts.
An idyll perhaps.
The cosy friendly wood of the Village Hall and the stubborn chairs set in rows.
A pool of yellow door light signals another show.
David and Francis as Squaw and Hatter.
Glynis in Persephone.

Puritan Christine and Howard as Oliver Twist.
A blur of snapshots.
A happy, happy life.
How rare.
What a cliché some would say.
But not here.
Look around you.
What love!
What happy children!
What a legacy!
All walking the path together.

© Allan Lochhead, 2026

Connect with Allan on Instagram: @allan_lochhead

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As winter draws in and the world grows darker and colder, I always remind myself we have to go through the trials of winter to celebrate Christmas and the joys of spring to come!

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Issue 30, featuring Gillian McAllister is out now. You will find it in libraries and other outlets. Alternatively, all current and previous editions can be found on our magazines page here. 

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