Poem fractal

Side by side

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0.022 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 Poet's Thought

by Barry Cornwall

−0.4813 − 0.7721i

Drawing the boundary…

Free Labor

by Frances E. W. Harper

−0.5024 − 0.7673i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

A Poet's Thought

by Barry Cornwall

Tell me, what is a poet's thought? 
Is it on the sudden born? 
Is it from the starlight caught? 
Is it by the tempest taught, 
Or by whispering morn? 
 
Was it cradled in the brain? 
Chain'd awhile, or nurs'd in night? 
Was it wrought with toil and pain? 
Did it bloom and fade again, 
Ere it burst to light? 
 
No more question of its birth: 
Rather love its better part! 
'T is a thing of sky and earth, 
Gathering all its golden worth 
From the Poet's heart.

Free Labor

by Frances E. W. Harper

I wear an easy garment,
O'er it no toiling slave
Wept tears of hopeless anguish,
In his passage to the grave.

And from its ample folds
Shall rise no cry to God,
Upon its warp and woof shall be
No stain of tears and blood.

Oh, lightly shall it press my form,
Unladened with a sigh,
I shall not 'mid its rustling hear,
Some sad despairing cry.

This fabric is too light to bear
The weight of bondsmen's tears,
I shall not in its texture trace
The agony of years.

Too light to bear a smother'd sigh,
From some lorn woman's heart,
Whose only wreath of household love
Is rudely torn apart.

Then lightly shall it press my form,
Unburden'd by a sigh;
And from its seams and folds shall rise,
No voice to pierce the sky,

And witness at the throne of God,
In language deep and strong,
That I have nerv'd Oppression's hand,
For deeds of guilt and wrong.

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