Poem fractal
0.021 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.
−0.3018 − 0.4484i
Drawing the boundary…
by Richard
−0.3224 − 0.4453i
Drawing the boundary…
Each poem scrolls on its own, so the two texts stay beside each other.
My life is like the flowing stream
That glides where summer's beauties teem,
Meets all the riches of the gale
That on its watry bosom sail,
And wanders 'midst Elysian groves
Thro' all the haunts that fancy loves.
May I, when drooping days decline,
And 'gainst those genial streams combine,
The winter's sad decay forsake,
And center in my parent lake.
by Richard
In a farmyard bright and gay,
Lived a rooster, Chanticleer,
With feathers bright and crow so clear,
He ruled the hens, day by day.
Oh, Chanticleer, the cock so bold,
In his coop, he was not cajoled,
Until one day, a fox appeared,
And the farmyard's peace was soon besmeared!
Reynard the fox, cunning and sly,
Watched Chanticleer with a hungry eye,
He flattered the cock, oh so sly,
With tales of dreams that soared so high.
Chanticleer, in his pride,
Closed his eyes, with the fox beside,
But in a flash, the fox did snap,
Caught the cock in a deadly trap.
Chanticleer, with a cry so shrill,
Called the hens, with all his will,
They chased the fox, away he fled,
With Chanticleer safe, but full of dread.
Now listen well, to this tale so gay,
Of Chanticleer and his fateful day,
Beware the flatterer, with words so fair,
For cunning foxes lurk everywhere!
So here ends our tale of the cock so fine,
And the fox who almost made him dine,
With laughter and mirth, let’s all agree,
The Nun's Priest's Tale, a joy to see!
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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