Amy Earheart kept a book
wrote down the details
of her baby girl’s activities.
The final entry
the most revealing
“I overheard her
talking to herself she said
‘If you are not here to talk to
I just whisper
in my own ears.’”
__________
Written by Lynda Pflueger
Amelia Earheart: Legend of Flight
Enslow Publishers, Inc., 2003, p. 14
Found by Sandra Leigh
British Columbia, Canada
The dream is the guardian of sleep,
not the disturber of it.
—Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams,
3rd Edition, 1913
I.
The day
which has
most recently
passed
is to be found
in every
dream.
V.
She is descending from a high place
over curiously fashioned fences
which are united into big squares.
It is not really intended for climbing upon;
she is worried about finding a place for her foot,
and she is glad her dress does not get caught anywhere.
She is also carrying a large bough in her hand,
really a bough of a tree, which is thickly studded with red blossoms;
it has many branches, and spreads out.
They look like full-bloom carnelias,
which of course do not grow on trees.
While she is descending, she first has one bough, then suddenly two,
and later again only one.
When she arrives at the bottom,
the lower blossoms have already fallen off
to a considerable extent.
Now that she is at the bottom,
she sees a porter who is combing
—as she would like to express it—
just such a tree—that is, who is plucking thick bunches of hair from it,
which hang from it like moss.
Other workmen have chopped off such boughs in a garden,
and have thrown them upon the street,
where they lie about, so that many people take some of them.
But she asks whether that is right,
whether anybody may take one.
A young man says that there is no wrong in it,
that it is permitted.
VI.
Roses, tulips, carnations,
all flowers fade.
VII.
She remembers that she has
two June bugs
in a box,
which she must set free,
otherwise
they will suffocate.
She opens the box,
the bugs
are quite exhausted;
one of them flies
out
of the window,
but the other
is crushed
on the casement
while she is shutting the window,
as some one
or other
requests
her to do.
IX.
She stood at the seashore
watching
a small boy,
who seemed to be
hers,
wading into the water.
This he did
till the water covered
him,
and she could only see
his head
bobbing
up and down
near the surface.
XV.
A great hall
—many guests—
one of whom I immediately take
aside.
I say to her:
“if you still have pains,
it is really
only
your own fault.”
She answers:
“If you only knew
what pains I now have
in the neck,
stomach,
and abdomen;
I am drawn together.”
I am frightened.
She looks pale and bloated.
I take her to the window
and look into her throat.
She shows some resistance to this,
like a woman
who has a set of false teeth.
I find a large
white spot
to the right,
and at another place
I see extended grayish-white scabs
attached to curious
curling
formations.
“No doubt it is an infection,
but it does not matter;
dysentery will develop,
and the poison will be
excreted.”
XXI.
Between two stately palaces stands a little house,
receding somewhat, whose doors are closed.
My wife leads me a little way along the street
up to the little house,
and pushes in the door,
and then I slip quickly
and easily
into the interior of a courtyard
that slants obliquely
upwards.
XXIV
I made a journey
through the city.
I wandered
through changing landscapes
with a guide, who carried my things.
He carried me for some way,
out of consideration
for my tired legs.
The ground was muddy,
and we went along the edge;
people sat on the ground,
a girl among them.
At last
we came to a small wooden house
which ended in an open
window.
Here the guide set me down,
and laid two wooden boards
which stood in readiness
on the window sill,
in order that
in this way
the chasm might be
bridged.
It seemed though,
that instead of the boards, children
were intended
to make possible the crossing.
I awakened
with frightened thoughts.
__________
Written by Sigmund Freud
Interpretation of Dreams
Book-of-the-Month Club, Inc., 1995
Found by E.K. Mortenson
Stamford, CT
E.K.: The source text for these poems is Sigmund Freud’s Interpretation of Dreams, 3rd edition. For this poem, I have used the 1995 edition published by Book-of-the-Month Club, Inc. The page numbers that follow refer to the poetic sections in the attached text corresponding with that 1995 edition. This long, sectioned poem is part of an original manuscript of mine entitled What Wakes Us, and serves as an anchor to one of the manuscript sections. As the manuscript explores those things that might be enough to wake is from literal or metaphorical sleep, I thought, why not include some work of sleep? Who better to “go to” than the pioneer of dream work himself? So, the roman numeral corresponds to the poetic section in the attachment, and the arabic numbers to the page numbers of the source text: I-139; V-320-321; VI-89; VII-271; IX-244; XV-178; XXI-241; XXIV-358
The Forty-Five Dwarfs Disney Rejected
Awful. Biggo-Ego. Biggy.
Biggy-Wiggy. Blabby. Busy.
Chesty. Crabby. Cranky.
Daffy. Dippy Dirty.
Dizzy. Doleful. Dumpy.
Flabby. Gabby. Gaspy.
Gloomy. Gloopy. Graceful.
Helpful. Hoppy. Hotsy.
Hungry. Jaunty. Jumpy.
Lazy. Neurtsy. Nifty.
Puffy. Sappy. Scrappy.
Shifty. Silly. Snappy.
Sneezy-Wheezy. Snoopy. Soulful.
Strutty. Tearful. Thrifty.
Weepy. Wistful. Woeful.
__________
Written by Ben Horslen
A Compendium of Indispensable Facts
Barnes & Noble Books, 2004
Found by J.R. Solonche
Blooming Grove, NY
roads lead
east and west.
Each soon splits
with a leg
heading inland
and a leg
following the coast.
One branch
following the coast
the other
climbing
to Oaxaca.
__________
Written by Mike Church and Terri Church
Traveler’s Guide to Mexican Camping, p. 318
Rolling Homes Press, 2005
Found by Sandra Leigh
Nanaimo, B.C., Canada
(currently camped near Cuernavaca, Morelos, Mexico)