Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.023 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.

Song of a Maid Whose Love Is Dead

by Thomas Lovell Beddoes

−0.0573 − 0.4704i

Drawing the boundary…

A Word

by Harold Monro

−0.0747 − 0.4852i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Song of a Maid Whose Love Is Dead

by Thomas Lovell Beddoes

Merry, merry little stream,
Tell me, hast thou seen my dear?
I left him with an azure dream,
Calmly sleeping on his bier—
But he has fled!

"I passed him in his church-yard bed—
A yew is sighing o'er his head,
And grass-roots mingle with his hair."
What doth he there?
O cruel! can he lie alone?
Or in the arms of one more dear?
Or hides he in that bower of stone,
To cause and kiss away my fear?

"He doth not speak, he doth not moan—
Blind, motionless he lies alone;
But, ere the grave snake fleshed his sting,
This one warm tear he bade me bring
And lay it at thy feet
Among the daisies sweet."

Moonlight whisperer, summer air,
Songster of the groves above,
Tell the maiden rose I wear,
Whether thou hast seen my love.
"This night in heaven I saw him lie,
Discontented with his bliss;
And on my lips he left this kiss,
For thee to taste and then to die."

A Word

by Harold Monro

Have you ever loved a word
Better than the man who spoke it?
So the moment that you heard
Its delightful syllables
Fall upon the air
You went wandering idly home
Dreaming of the way it cooled
That uncomfortable room?
Trying to repeat it slowly
Standing back from it and watching
Like a lover
To discover
What it meant and why you loved it?
Mostly words like hailstones tumble
On the thin air and disperse
In indiscriminating jumble
Incoherent or perverse.

Why did you speak this evening
Suddenly like that
Just as I was going?

—
—
0:00
0:00
Track 1
Skip to main content