Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

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.

Bugging Out

by Richard

−0.1830 + 0.6987i

Drawing the boundary…

Epitaph

by Amy Levy

−0.1937 + 0.6799i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Bugging Out

by Richard

I woke up one fine morning, feeling something strange,
Looked down at my new body, oh, this is quite the change,
Legs a-wiggle, shell a-shine, I’m not sure how to cope,
Living life as a giant bug, there’s really little hope.

I’m bugging out, bugging out, in this crazy human world,
With my antennae up, my plans unfurled,
I’m bugging out, bugging out, trying to get along,
Who knew an insect’s life could inspire a song?

The cat’s indifferent, the dog’s afraid, Mum’s clutching at her pearls,
Dad’s got the broom, and Grete’s fainting, it’s a rollercoaster whirl,
Tried to text my boss, told him I’d be late,
Ended up with pizza, oh, life’s a twist of fate.

I’m zooming through the chat rooms, looking for my kin,
Found a toaster transformation, but no one quite like me within,
Webcam call with colleagues, they’re laughing, can’t believe,
I might be a giant bug, but I still know how to grieve.

Scuttling ‘cross the floorboards, dodging every broom,
Avoiding all the sunlight, I prefer the darkened gloom,
Work’s a lost endeavour, my boss left quite a note,
But I’m adjusting to this new life, even if remote.

So here’s to metamorphosis, in this digital age,
Living life as a giant bug, on my very own stage,
I’m bugging out, bugging out, making my own way,
Learning to embrace this life, come what may.

Epitaph

by Amy Levy

This is the end of him, here he lies:
The dust in his throat, the worm in his eyes,
The mould in his mouth, the turf on his breast;
This is the end of him, this is best.
He will never lie on his couch awake,
Wide-eyed, tearless, till dim daybreak.
Never again will he smile and smile
When his heart is breaking all the while.
He will never stretch out his hands in vain
Groping and groping—never again.
Never ask for bread, get a stone instead,
Never pretend that the stone is bread;
Nor sway and sway 'twixt the false and true,
Weighing and noting the long hours through.
Never ache and ache with the choked-up sighs;
This is the end of him, here he lies.

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