Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.024 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.

A Quest

by Louise Chandler Moulton

−0.3222 − 0.9578i

Drawing the boundary…

Storm

by Hilda Doolittle

−0.3288 − 0.9344i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

A Quest

by Louise Chandler Moulton

All in the summer even,
When sea and sky were bright,
As royally the sunset
Went forth to meet the night,

My Love and I were sailing
Into the shining West,
To find some Happy Island,
Some Paradise of rest.

We steered where sunset splendor
Made golden all the shore;
The rocks behind its brightness
Were cruel as before.

Within the caves sang sirens;
But there the whirlpools be:
Not there the Happy Islands,
Not there the peaceful sea.

Toward the deep mid-ocean
Tides ran and swift winds blew;
It must be there those Islands
Await the longing view.

Their shores are soft with verdure,
Their skies for ever fair,
And always is the fragrance
Of blossoms on the air.

I set our sail to seek them,
But she, my Love, drew back:
"Not yet; the night is chilly,
I fear that unknown track."

So home we sailed, at twilight,
To the familiar shore;
Turned from the golden glory,
To live the old life o'er.

We'll make no further ventures, —
For timid is my Love, —
Until fresh sailing orders
Are sent us from above.

Then past the deep mid-ocean
'Twixt life and Life we'll steer,
To land on happier islands
Than those we dreamed of here.

Storm

by Hilda Doolittle

You crash over the trees,
you crack the live branch—
the branch is white,
the green crushed,
each leaf is rent like split wood.

You burden the trees
with black drops,
you swirl and crash—
you have broken off a weighted leaf
in the wind,
it is hurled out,
whirls up and sinks,
a green stone.

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