Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.061 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.

Voices in the Storm

by Richard

0.2092 − 0.2283i

Drawing the boundary…

Neutral Tones

by Thomas Hardy

0.1737 − 0.1781i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Voices in the Storm

by Richard

I’ve shown the facts, I’ve drawn the charts,
The ice is breaking up, the Earth’s losing heart.
I speak of rising seas, of scorching flames,
But they turn away, it’s all the same.

Why won't they listen? Why can’t they see?
The planet’s crying out, it’s clear to me.
We’re on the edge, a precipice,
Yet they deny, they dismiss.

They say it’s just a phase, a twist of fate,
Ignoring all the signs before it’s too late.
They talk of cycles, of nature’s way,
While the forests burn, day by day.

I’m tired of shouting into the void,
The truth so clear, yet they’re so annoyed.
What will it take for them to care?
When will they see the future we share?

I’ve seen the reefs turn white, the wildlife flee,
The consequence of our own folly.
We hold the key to change, it’s in our hands,
But denial stands like shifting sands.

I’ll keep on fighting, I won’t stand down,
For every tree, for every town.
I hope one day, they’ll hear the call,
And join the fight, before we fall.

No! Not one day! Today!

Neutral Tones

by Thomas Hardy

We stood by a pond that winter day,
And the sun was white, as though chidden of God,
And a few leaves lay on the starving sod;
— They had fallen from an ash, and were gray.

Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove
Over tedious riddles of years ago;
And some words played between us to and fro
On which lost the more by our love.

The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing
Alive enough to have strength to die;
And a grin of bitterness swept thereby
Like an ominous bird a-wing —.

Since then, keen lessons that love deceives,
And wrings with wrong, have shaped to me
Your face, and the God curst sun, and a tree,
And a pond edged with grayish leaves.

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