The dream in its emphatic musical way,
Perhaps subtitles hanging from ceiling fans,
Stirs up a short, thin, wispy male
It was another tidy Saturday morning, Zoom style
At the Jung Foundation in New York City
Where the instructor, a psychologist, will discuss her book
I awoke from a dream in which I am being threatened by armies of stratum, syntax that escaped from some grammar hole, and angry breaths that seems to come from some distant horizon line. As I come to my senses I wonder if it’s time to “put the gloves on.” As is my habit, I settled into…
In the dream I am in the hands
Of two women, perhaps on a beach,
A couch, or a bench on a country lane,
Fully clothed as at theater or public
In the dream children adorn
A miniature train leaving the station
And traveling into dangerous traffic
Ungoverned by red lights or police.
The dream seems to order its own ripe
Theatrics after what seems like a merciless
Induction round sprawled out on the night stage
In his “The Archetypes of the Collective Unconscious” Carl Jung writes extensively about the anima concept or archetype which he considered of paramount practical importance to the psychotherapist. He reminds the reader that his notion of anima, a…
The dream opens at full compass, touting some big, important book that I sensed was the bible, though that term was not explicit. At first the essence of the dream seemed to be about grammar, usage, punctuation as well as revising and upgrading old lines, meaning and prophecies. These…
The night opens on itself, with atmospherics
Consistent with the dream space, shining
On mountaintops that ring the field of inquiry
In the dream the earth seems to awaken, then uncover
A form, a buried memory, half-forgotten theatrics
And endless pages of notes and lines of memory