Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.034 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 Reading Mother

by Strickland Gillilan

−0.1749 − 0.3737i

Drawing the boundary…

The Pardoner's Tale

by Richard

−0.1695 − 0.3406i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Reading Mother

by Strickland Gillilan

I had a mother who read to me
Sagas of pirates who scoured the sea,
Cutlasses clenched in their yellow teeth,
“Blackbirds” stowed in the hold beneath

I had a Mother who read me lays
Of ancient and gallant and golden days;
Stories of Marmion and Ivanhoe,
Which every boy has a right to know.

I had a Mother who read me tales
Of Celert the hound of the hills of Wales,
True to his trust till his tragic death,
Faithfulness blent with his final breath.

I had a Mother who read me the things
That wholesome life to the boy heart brings-
Stories that stir with an upward touch,
Oh, that each mother of boys were such.

You may have tangible wealth untold;
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be —
I had a Mother who read to me.

The Pardoner's Tale

by Richard

In a village far and wide,
Three young men of sinful pride,
To the tavern they did ride,
With gold and ale their hearts confide.

"Death, oh Death, where dost thou hide?
We seek thee out, we shall not bide.
With a curse and a pledge, by dawn's early tide,
We’ll conquer thee, we’ll turn the tide."

An old man they did espy,
Wrinkled face, and hollow eye,
“Why do you live when all must die?”
Said he, “Find Death where shadows lie.”

To an ancient oak they roam,
Found a treasure, bright as foam,
Gold so bright it shone like dome,
“We are rich!” they cried, “This wealth we own.”

One went off to fetch their bread,
Greed and envy filled their head,
Two conspired when he returned,
His life they'd take, their hearts had turned.

The one returned with poisoned wine,
Plans to claim all gold as mine,
The two did strike, their friend lay dead,
Then drank the wine, by poison led.

They drank and died, the gold untouched,
In greed’s cruel grasp, their fate was clutched,
For Death had come, by greed dispatched,
Their souls to Hell, forever snatched.

So heed this tale of folly's cost,
Greed and pride, all lives are lost,
In shadows deep where souls are tossed,
The wages of sin are cold and frost.

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