Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.046 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 Final Word

by George Cabot Lodge

0.0499 + 0.0511i

Drawing the boundary…

A Butterfly in Church

by George Marion McClellan

0.0173 + 0.0188i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Final Word

by George Cabot Lodge

Hear me! I say to you —"This love of ours
Can never be forgiven; nevermore
Shall I, in peace and silence, pass my door,
Sad with October sun and scattered flowers,
Unhaunted of thy memory as before.

"Nothing is virgin where thy feet have trod
The byways of my inmost heart, and where
My Soul stretched flowers to catch the skyward air,
Thy hands have sown with chaff the fields of God.
I know thy love is loveless as despair.

"I thrilled in soul, God knows my body fired,
Kindling thy perfect body, for the food
Whose sweetness proved pain sweet and evil good,
Till Life could no more bear what life desired,
Until the lips of life were crushed to blood.

"Now there is no forgiveness. Go or stay —
I cannot care, my love has been so great!
I am too tired now to love or hate;
While hour by hour I see, and day by day
Life's tears roll down the marble face of fate!"

A Butterfly in Church

by George Marion McClellan

What dost thou here, thou shining, sinless thing,
With many colored hues and shapely wing?
Why quit the open field and summer air
To flutter here? Thou hast no need of prayer.

'Tis meet that we, who this great structure built,
Should come to be redeemed and washed from guilt,
For we this gilded edifice within
Are come, with erring hearts and stains of sin.

But thou art free from guilt as God on high;
Go, seek the blooming waste and open sky,
And leave us here our secret woes to bear,
Confessionals and agonies of prayer.

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