Poem fractal
0.029 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.
−0.1061 − 0.6201i
Drawing the boundary…
by Richard
−0.0784 − 0.6284i
Drawing the boundary…
Each poem scrolls on its own, so the two texts stay beside each other.
Take them, O Death! and bear away
Whatever thou canst call thine own!
Thine image, stamped upon this clay,
Doth give thee that, but that alone!
Take them, O Grave! and let them lie
Folded upon thy narrow shelves,
As garments by the soul laid by,
And precious only to ourselves!
Take them, O great Eternity!
Our little life is but a gust
That bends the branches of thy tree,
And trails its blossoms in the dust!
by Richard
In a town not far from here,
Lived a dame, Alisoun so dear,
Five husbands she had, oh my,
Each one brought her joy, oh why?
Oh, Alisoun, with wit so grand,
Five husbands by your command,
Tales you tell of love and life,
With laughter and a bit of strife!
Once upon a time, they say,
Alisoun met a knight one day,
For his crime, he must repent,
By learning what women want, so spent.
Through woods and fields, they went around,
Seeking truth that must be found,
Women desire sovereignty,
Over their husbands, oh so free.
The knight found a hag, so wise,
Offered her the knight’s prize,
She asked for marriage, bold and true,
The knight, dismayed, what could he do?
They wed, though the knight was scared,
But soon the hag’s wisdom bared,
To his surprise, she turned fair,
Beauty found in love and care.
So here’s to Alisoun, so wise,
With laughter in her bright eyes,
Five husbands taught her well, you see,
In love and life and revelry!
Raise a toast to Alisoun,
With her tales, we all have fun,
In Chaucer’s words, we find delight,
The Wife of Bath, a shining light!
A fractal is a shape that keeps its pattern when you look closer. Coastlines, trees, shells, and weather do this. The large form and the small form are the same kind of thing. A poem can be drawn that way. The shape of the whole comes from the shape of the lines.
Primunia is the name for the source of that order: the pattern under the pattern, already there in a tree, a shell, and a verse.
The number under the picture is the poem constant. It is read from the build of the lines: their length, how uneven they are, the size of the stanzas, the share of vowels, and the way the lines end. A new word moves the number when it changes that build. The same poem always gives the same number.
Drawn on its own, that number sits in a quiet part of the plane, and most poems would look like the same soft disk. So the number is carried outward along its own direction until it meets the edge of the Mandelbrot set, where the shape turns sharp. The picture is the Julia set of that meeting place.
Each point on the canvas is folded again and again by one small rule. Points that stay near the rule form the dark interior. Points that rush away become the coloured bands. The hue comes from the poem constant, and the brightest bands turn toward gold. Change the length of a line, the stanza, or the vowel share, and both the number and the picture move.
Branching draws the poem as a tree. Each turn follows a line, and every smaller branch repeats that pattern. A longer line reaches farther. The letters at the start of a line bend the next turn. A higher share of vowels opens the branches wider.
The trunk takes its colour from the poem constant and warms toward gold at the tips. When the poem has more than one stanza, gold forks leave the trunk. Each fork is a stanza beyond the first, up to three. The tree divides where the poem divides. One stanza remains a single trunk.
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