Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.041 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.

Small hands, relinquish all

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

−0.5232 − 1.0108i

Drawing the boundary…

Deed

by Emily Dickinson

−0.5576 − 1.0338i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Small hands, relinquish all

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Small hands, relinquish all
Nothing the fist can hold,—
Not power, not love, not gold—
But suffers from the cold,
And is about to fall.

The mind, at length bereft
Of thinking, and its pain,
Will soon disperse again,
And nothing will remain:
No, not a thought be left.

Exhort the closing eye,
Urge the resisting ear,
To say, “The thrush is here”
To say, “His song is clear”;
To live, before it die.

Small hands, relinquish all:
Nothing the fist can hold,
Not power, not love, not gold,
But suffers from the cold,
And is about to fall.

The mind at length bereft
Of thinking and its pain,
Will soon disperse again,
And nothing will remain:
No, not a thing be left.

Only the ardent eye,
Only the listening ear
Can say, “The thrush was here!”
Can say, “His song was clear!”
Can live, before it die.

Deed

by Emily Dickinson

A Deed knocks first at Thought—
And then—at Will—
That is the manufacturing spot—
And Will at Home and well—

It then goes out an Act—
Or is entombed so still
That only to the ear of God
Its Doom—is audible—

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