Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.045 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 narrow fellow in the grass

by Emily Dickinson

0.0348 − 1.0072i

Drawing the boundary…

Love is a babble

by Robert Jones

−0.0098 − 1.0008i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

A narrow fellow in the grass

by Emily Dickinson

A narrow fellow in the grass
Occasionally rides—
You may have met Him — did you not
His notice sudden is—

The grass divides as with a comb—
A spotted shaft is seen—
And then it closes at your feet
And opens further on—

He likes a boggy acre
A floor too cool for corn
Yet when a Boy, and barefoot—
I more than once at noon

Have passed, I thought, a whip lash
Unbraiding in the sun
When stooping to secure it
It wrinkled, and was gone—

Several of nature's People
I know, and they know me—
I feel for them a Transport
Of cordiality—

But never met this Fellow
Attended, or alone
Without a tighter breathing
And zero at the Bone—

Love is a babble

by Robert Jones

Love is a babble,
No man is able
To say ’tis this or ’tis that.
’Tis full of passions,
Of sundry fashions,
’Tis like I cannot tell what.

Love is a fellow,
Clad oft in yellow,
The canker-worm of the mind,
A privy mischief,
And such a sly thief,
No man knows which way to find.

Love’s fair i’ th’ cradle,
Foul in the sable,
’Tis either too cold or too hot.
An arrant liar,
Fed by desire,
It is, and yet is not.

Love is a wonder,
That’s here and yonder,
As common to one as to more.
A monstrous cheater,
Every man’s debtor,
Hang him, and so let him go.

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