Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.031 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.

Before we mothernaked fall

by Dylan Thomas

0.0147 − 0.3876i

Drawing the boundary…

The Cry of the Dreamer

by John Boyle O'Reilly

−0.0151 − 0.3810i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Before we mothernaked fall

by Dylan Thomas

Before we mothernaked fall
Upon the land of gold or oil,
Between the raid and the response
Of flesh and bones,
Our claim is staked for once and all
Near to the quarry or the well,
Before the promises fulfill
And joys are pains.

Then take the gusher or the field
Where all the hidden stones are gold,
We have no choice, the choice was made
Before our blood;
And I will build my liquid world,
And you, before the breath is cold
And veins are spilled and doom is turned,
Your solid land.

The Cry of the Dreamer

by John Boyle O'Reilly

I am tired of planning and toiling 
In the crowded hives of men; 
Heart-weary of building and spoiling, 
And spoiling and building again. 
And I long for the dear old river, 
Where I dreamed my youth away; 
For a dreamer lives forever, 
And a toiler dies in a day. 

I am sick of the showy seeming 
Of a life that is half a lie; 
Of the faces lined with scheming 
In the throng that hurries by. 
From the sleepless thoughts' endeavor, 
I would go where the children play; 
For a dreamer lives forever, 
And a thinker dies in a day. 

I can feel no pride, but pity 
For the burdens the rich endure; 
There is nothing sweet in the city 
But the patient lives of the poor. 
Oh, the little hands too skillful, 
And the child-mind choked with weeds! 
The daughter's heart grown willful, 
And the father's heart that bleeds! 

No, no! from the street's rude bustle, 
From trophies of mart and stage, 
I would fly to the woods' low rustle 
And the meadows' kindly page. 
Let me dream as of old by the river, 
And be loved for the dream alway; 
For a dreamer lives forever, 
And a toiler dies in a day. 

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