work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
6750,"",Reading,2010-07-17 02:48:43 UTC,"But in between the neighbor who recalls her
coming in from a walk on the moors
with her face ""lit up by a divine light""
and the sister who tells us
Emily never made a friend in her life,
is a space where the little raw soul
slips through.
It goes skimming the deep keel like a storm petrel,
out of sight.
(p. 6)",,17968,"","Emily Brontë's soul ""goes skimming the deep keel like a storm petrel, / out of sight.""","",2010-07-17 03:19:54 UTC,""
6750,"",Reading,2010-07-17 02:53:35 UTC,"De profundis clamavi ad te Domine
Each morning a vision came to me.
Gradually I understood that these were naked glimpses of my soul.
I called them Nudes.
",,17969,"","""Gradually I understood that these were naked glimpses of my soul.""","",2010-07-17 02:53:35 UTC,""
6750,"",Reading,2010-07-17 02:57:57 UTC,"[...] There was no area of my mind
not appalled by this action, no part of my body
that could have done otherwise.
But to talk of mind and body begs the question.
Soul is the place,
stretched like a surface of millstone grit between body and mind,
where such necessity grinds itself out.
(p. 12)",,17970,"","""Soul is the place, / stretched like a surface of millstone grit between body and mind, / where such necessity grinds itself out""","",2010-07-17 02:57:57 UTC,""
6750,"",Reading,2010-07-17 03:02:58 UTC,"[...] We tried to fuck
but he remained limp, although happy. I came
again and again, each time accumulating lucidity,
until at last I was floating high up near the ceiling looking down
on the two souls clasped there on the bed
with their mortal boundaries
visible around them like lines on a map.
I saw the lines harden.
He left in the morning.
(p. 12)",,17971,"","""I came / again and again, each time accumulating lucidity, // until at last I was floating high up near the ceiling looking down / on the two souls clasped there on the bed /with their mortal boundaries // visible around them like lines on a map.""","",2010-07-17 03:02:58 UTC,""
6750,"",Reading,2010-07-17 03:08:13 UTC,"Mornings when I meditated
I was presented with a nude glimpse of my lone soul,
not the complex mysteries of love and hate.
But the Nudes are still as clear in my mind
as pieces of laundry that froze on the clothesline overnight.
There were in all thirteen of them.
(p. 17)",,17972,"","""Mornings when I meditated / I was presented with a nude glimpse of my lone soul, / not the complex mysteries of love and hate.""","",2010-07-17 03:09:54 UTC,""
6750,"",Reading,2010-07-17 03:09:30 UTC,"Mornings when I meditated
I was presented with a nude glimpse of my lone soul,
not the complex mysteries of love and hate.
But the Nudes are still as clear in my mind
as pieces of laundry that froze on the clothesline overnight.
There were in all thirteen of them.
(p. 17)",,17973,"","But the Nudes are still as clear in my mind / as pieces of laundry that froze on the clothesline overnight.""","",2010-07-17 03:09:30 UTC,""
6750,"",Reading,2010-07-17 03:13:30 UTC,"[...] She has reversed the roles of thou and Thou
not as a display of power
but to force out of herself some pity
for this soul trapped in glass,
which is her true creation.
(p. 35)",,17974,"","""She has reversed the roles of thou and Thou / not as a display of power
but to force out of herself some pity / for this soul trapped in glass, / which is her true creation.""","",2010-07-17 03:13:54 UTC,""
6751,Blindness,Reading,2010-07-17 03:18:51 UTC,"Inside the dark sky of his mind
Isaac could hear God
moving down a country road bordered by trees.
(p. 43)",,17975,"","""Inside the dark sky of his mind / Isaac could hear God / moving down a country road bordered by trees.""","",2010-07-17 03:18:51 UTC,""
8259,"",Reading,2018-03-10 00:11:13 UTC,"My mind, a vagrant, dreams on the shining Alps
Where in an infinitely tender storm
The Holy Ghost, hoary, breathes on a precipice,
Scattering starlight in a trillion drops,
Letting his shadow fall thousands of feet below
To where the real white sheep, sleep on the snow.",,25151,"","""My mind, a vagrant, dreams on the shining Alps.""","",2018-03-10 00:11:13 UTC,""
8259,"",Reading,2018-03-10 00:12:53 UTC,"That is not artful, and quickly fades. While here
Christ is Here, his mouth too full for a whisper
To cry to his mother. Does Somebody look bored,
His thoughts vacant as plaster, with being year
After bleeding year, our immobile word?
His fingers hand, almost as it
Unwilling to move, as if touching for Him were unimportant
In any world: even this, dispassionate, where
Mine eyes have seen the artist's signature.",,25152,"","""Does Somebody look bored, / His thoughts vacant as plaster, with being year / After bleeding year, our immobile word?""","",2018-03-10 00:13:08 UTC,""