Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.008 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 Life-Tomb

by Arthur O'Shaughnessy

−0.4214 − 0.4368i

Drawing the boundary…

The Deluge

by G. K. Chesterton

−0.4231 − 0.4449i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

A Life-Tomb

by Arthur O'Shaughnessy

The house is haunted and rife
With Her touch behind panel and door
And her footfalls under the floor;
O the house is filled with gloom:
—Is She here dead in my life?
Am I here alive in her tomb?—

Ah fain am I still to track
And to walk along the ways
Sown with flowers by her feet;
And to gather, following back,
All the purple nights and days
She slew passing; or, half sweet,
To sit with dull eyes cast
On slowly dying embers
Of things the heart remembers
Right fair in the heart’s past,
—Till tones, that seem to start
From the shadows in the room,
Move round about the heart,
And a love-glow fills the gloom;
And her soul seems to look out
As from dim and distant eyes,
And a shade of lips to pout
With some remnant of her sighs.

And often too, in the night,
The flame in famished eyes
Re-kindles an old delight
At some dream-sight of her;
The heart with tremulous stir
Lives a moment and then dies.

The Deluge

by G. K. Chesterton

Though giant rains put out the sun,
  Here stand I for a sign.
Though Earth be filled with waters dark,
  My cup is filled with wine.
Tell to the trembling priests that here
  Under the deluge rod,
One nameless, tattered, broken man
  Stood up and drank to God.

Sun has been where the rain is now,
  Bees in the heat to hum,
Haply a humming maiden came,
  Now let the Deluge come:
Brown of aureole, green of garb,
  Straight as a golden rod,
Drink to the throne of thunder now!
  Drink to the wrath of God.

High in the wreck I held the cup,
  I clutched my rusty sword,
I cocked my tattered feather
  To the glory of the Lord.
Not undone were the heaven and earth,
  This hollow world thrown up,
Before one man had stood up straight!
  And drained it like a cup.

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