Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.082 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.

Róisín Dubh

by Nora Hopper Chesson

0.7966 − 0.3381i

Drawing the boundary…

A Woman Wronged

by Cale Young Rice

0.8067 − 0.2565i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Róisín Dubh

by Nora Hopper Chesson

Everyone knows that a rose will fade, 
(Sure I knew, too!) 
So why would I be a whit dismayed 
When you died, Róisín Dubh? 
For a day and a night and a morrow 
The bloom of you — 
Then death: and what use of sorrow 
For a rose, Róisín Dubh? 

Yet, little black rose, so dear you were, 
So sweet you grew, 
And your stem is sad now you are not there, 
And your leaves, Róisín Dubh! 
O little black rose, my soul I'd give, 
(My body, too!) 
For a day, for an hour, that you might live 
On your bush, Róisín Dubh! 

Sweet, sweet, till the world was glad for you, 
And kinder, too — 
Now your bush and your world are sad for you, 
Róisín Dubh! 

A Woman Wronged

by Cale Young Rice

I am dead and in my grave.
Let me alone.
The seeping of rains down through me,
And the reaching of roots down after me,
And the skimming of leaves above me, are enough.
Let me alone.

You have had your will of me,
So wherefore, now,
Should your questions creep here to me,
And the roots of your doubt reach at me,
And your thoughts restively skim and shudder above me?
Let me alone.

Would you rifle the grave too?
Go away.
I have nothing left for your taking.
My hair is not gold, but dust now.
My eyes are not stars, but stillness.
My flesh is not beauty aflame, but very cool.
Let me alone.

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