Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.038 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.

Gypsy Song

by Nora Hopper Chesson

0.4775 + 0.0072i

Drawing the boundary…

I Do Not Love Thee

by Caroline Elizabeth Sheridan

0.4762 − 0.0312i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Gypsy Song

by Nora Hopper Chesson

You are the safe and firelit room, 
I am the open wold; 
You are the city, and this your doom- 
Never to feel the outer cold, 
Never to fear the inner dark: 
Never to strain the ears, and hark 
For any foot but the foot of Time; 
Never to know a loss worth gain 
Or soul that's worth the birthing-pain; 
Never to find hill worth the climb 
Or joy that may be worth the tear — 
My Dear! 

You are shut in from snow and sleet, 
I am out in the wind; 
My feet are strange to the trodden street 
As you are strange to the winds that beat. 
The mists that hover and blind. 
I cannot stay, you cannot bind — 
My hands unclasp and let you go, 
As if you were no more than snow 
That slips away from me in rain. 
I love you, yet our souls are twain. 
For I am knowledge, you are fear. 
My Dear. 

I Do Not Love Thee

by Caroline Elizabeth Sheridan

I do not love thee! no, I do not love thee! 
And yet when thou art absent I am sad;
And envy even the bright blue sky above thee, 
Whose quiet stars may see thee and be glad.

I do not love thee! — yet, I know not why, 
Whate'er thou dost seems still well done, to me —
And often in my solitude I sigh — 
That those I do love are not more like thee!

I do not love thee! — yet, when thou art gone, 
I hate the sound (though those who speak be dear)
Which breaks the lingering echo of the tone 
Thy voice of music leaves upon my ear.

I do not love thee! — yet thy speaking eyes,
With their deep, bright, and most expressive blue—
Between me and the midnight heaven arise, 
Oftener than any eyes I ever knew.

I know I do not love thee!— yet, alas! 
Others will scarcely trust my candid heart,
And oft I catch them smiling as they pass, 
Because they see me gazing where thou art.

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