Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.043 apart. A smaller distance means the lines are built more alike.

This number is read from the build of the lines. The bright edge is that number, carried outward until the pattern repeats.

The Chances

by Wilfred Owen

−0.1484 + 0.5116i

Drawing the boundary…

An Answer

by Alfred Austin

−0.1257 + 0.5476i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

Each poem scrolls on its own, so the two texts stay beside each other.

The Chances

by Wilfred Owen

I mind as 'ow the night afore that show
Us five got talking,—we was in the know,
"Over the top to-morrer; boys, we're for it,
First wave we are, first ruddy wave; that's tore it."
"Ah well," says Jimmy,—an' 'e's seen some scrappin'—
"There ain't more nor five things as can 'appen;
Ye get knocked out; else wounded—bad or cushy;
Scuppered; or nowt except yer feeling mushy."

One of us got the knock-out, blown to chops.
T'other was hurt, like, losin' both 'is props.
An' one, to use the word of 'ypocrites,
'Ad the misfortoon to be took by Fritz.
Now me, I wasn't scratched, praise God Almighty
(Though next time please I'll thank 'im for a blighty),
But poor young Jim, 'e's livin' an' 'e's not;
'E reckoned 'e'd five chances, an' 'e's 'ad;
'E's wounded, killed, and pris'ner, all the lot—
The ruddy lot all rolled in one. Jim's mad.

An Answer

by Alfred Austin

Come, let us go into the lane, love mine, 
And mark and gather what the Autumn grows 
The creamy elder mellowed into wine, 
The russet hip that was the pink-white rose; 
The amber woodbine into rubies turned, 
The blackberry that was the bramble born; 
Nor let the seeded clematis be spurned, 
Nor pearls, that now are corals, of the thorn. 
Look! what a lovely posy we have made 
From the wild garden of the waning year. 
So when, dear love, your summer is decayed, 
Beauty more touching than is clustered here 
Will linger in your life, and I shall cling 
Closely as now, nor ask if it be Spring. 

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