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.

An Unanswered Question

by Leonard Bacon

−0.0312 + 0.0137i

Drawing the boundary…

Her Street

by Arthur Symons

−0.0230 + 0.0131i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

An Unanswered Question

by Leonard Bacon

I have heard whispers that I cannot speak,
Melodies, whose uncapturable tone
Drifted by starlight out of the unknown,
And left me shaken with beauty, and faint and weak.
And in the midnight when the timbers creak
Dreams have possessed me, greater than my own,
And in my solitary heart alone
I have seen grails I never will dare seek.

Why thunder the incalculable wings
About me so, if I am not to fly?
Why do the voices yet within me cry
Melodious? Why do the wild lights gleam,
And spill strange beauty over common things?
I am not visionary. Do I dream?

Her Street

by Arthur Symons

I passed your street of many memories.
     A sunset, sombre pink, the flush
     Of inner rose-leaves idle fingers crush,
Died softly, as the rose that dies.
All the high heaven behind the roof lay thus,
     Tenderly dying, touched with pain
     A little; standing there I saw again
The sunsets that were dear to us.

I knew not if ’twere bitter or more sweet
     To stand and watch the roofs, the sky.
     O bitter to be there and you not nigh,
Yet this had been that blessed street.
How the name thrilled me, there upon the wall!
    There was the house, the windows there
     Against the rosy twilight high and bare,
The pavement-stones: I knew them all!

Days that have been, days that have fallen cold!
     I stood and gazed, and thought of you,
     Until remembrance sweet and mournful drew
Tears to eyes smiling as of old.
So, sad and glad, your memory visibly
     Alive within my eyes, I turned;
     And, through a window, met two eyes that burned,
Tenderly questioning, on me.

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