[Critique Group 2] Fwd: Leonard's comments on Brads Piece

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

-----Original Message-----
From: tuchyner5 at aol.com
To: grouop2 at bluegrasspals.com <grouop2 at bluegrasspals.com>
Sent: Fri, Jun 25, 2021 4:06 pm
Subject: Leonard's comments on Brads Piece


Brad’s sub for June
 
  
 

Night War of the Mind
 
C By Brad Corallo
 
Word count 214
 
  
 
The explosions and
 
rising, billowing smoke expand,
 
from tiny atonal rhythmic pulses
 
to fill my mind with clamorous strife.
 
  
 
  
 
This paragraph is a visceral description of thedevelopment of a nightmare. 
 
It might even have occurred because of physicalsensations 
 
such as a headache.  
 
On the other hand, it doesn’t have to be a dreamat all. 
 
A dream isn’t mentioned. 
 
It may just be the overworking of conflicts in amind that cannot sleep.  
 
In that case, 
 
the mind trying to sleep is in a vulnerableplace 
 
to be victim to its own activity  of fitful sleep. 
 
I’ve been there. Done that.
 
 
 
  
 
The flash-bang grenades,
 
the Hell Fire missiles
 
seek their targets.
 
I cannot sleep
 
as the war rages on.
 
 
 
I’m not  sure whether this is anactual description of what is happening in your mind. 
 
Is it a litteral description, or figurative. 
 
Or, both? 
 
 
 
  
 
I get up and try
 
to be somewhere else.
 
I crawl, silent and furtive
 
through rooms of shattered mirrors
 
which only lead back
 
to what I am fleeing from,
 
and tare me with their jagged shards.
 
  
 
Here,it is not clear whether you are back in adream, 
 
and the descriptions are actual descriptions. 
 
Whether You actually got up. 
 
Dreamt that you got up.  
 
Or, it is a metaphorical description 
 
of actually getting out of bed  and encountering the symbols of your mind inconflict.
 
 
 
The turmoil and all the noise
 
have reduced me to shameless floods of tears.
 
In desperation I cling to broken memories.
 
Salvaged
 
from ruins of the past, unspeakable!
 
 
 
You have found the experience to beoverwhelming.  
 
You are reduced to tears, 
 
but you try to find some footing from memories.
 
 
 
  
 
How have I strayed so far?
 
Only to reach this perfect position
 
where violent solar eruptions
 
rain down from every direction.
 
They burn and blacken
 
but don't incinerate.
 
Though such would be a mercy!
 
  
 
This kind of experience has left you with noplace to go with it. 
 
It would be a mercy if you could  die. 
 
But these ideas, images and emotions don’tdestroy. 
 
It only burns.
 
 
 
If I wait it out
 
And manage even a little sleep
 
I can indulge a fragile belief
 
  
 
You hope you can make it through the night 
 
and hope it wil bring a partial end to thenightmare you are going through. 
 
But you find the hope to be thin.
 
  
 
I will stride purposefully through the ash heapsOf morning.
 
And, with One act of compassion
 
silence the violent chaos
 
of one more consuming night,
 
that has passed and gone.
 
Maybe you’ll find peace then.  Of a kind. 
 
It is  notthe first time you have been haunted by this kind of night.  
 
It would be an act of compassion to yourself ifyou could die.
 
Do I hear some self blaming here?
 
  
 
In it's place,
 
precarious peace balances on 
 
the honed edge of a tactical knife.
 
At least for some bless'd,
 
unknown space in time.
 
  
 
The peace hoped for is precarious.
 
You use a metaphore
 
, the honed edge of a knife, 
 
to communicate how precarious the peace is. 
 
But, it could also mean that the peace dependson the mundane task of shaving or cutting your toast.  
 
It could mean both.
 
 
 
This is a brilliant piece. 
 
I have had such nights 
 
and I think we could compare notes of how theywork. 
 
I think that it is easy to confuse dreaming fromother realities. 
 
An exceptional piece.
 
  
 
  

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