Poem fractal
0.020 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.
−0.1534 − 0.7439i
Drawing the boundary…
by Richard
−0.1341 − 0.7495i
Drawing the boundary…
Each poem scrolls on its own, so the two texts stay beside each other.
I chase a shadow through the night,
A shadow unavailing;
Out of the dark, into the light,
I follow, follow: is it she?
Against the wall of sea outlined,
Outlined against the windows lit,
The shadow flickers, and behind
I follow, follow after it.
The shadow leads me through the night
To the grey margin of the sea;
Out of the dark, into the light,
I follow unavailingly.
by Richard
In a village old and quaint,
Lived a friar, far from saint,
Begging alms and preaching lies,
Filling folks with false goodbyes.
Oh, the friar, oh, what a lark,
Always sneaking in the dark,
Greedy for the gifts and gold,
But soon his tale will be retold!
To a sick man, Thomas named,
Went the friar, quite untamed,
"Give to me, your soul I'll save,
In Heaven you'll have golden pave."
Thomas, tired of friar’s greed,
Hatched a plan to meet his need,
"Lay your hand upon my rear,
And a special gift you'll hear."
The friar leaned in, unsuspecting,
Thomas farted, quite affecting,
Loud and long, the gift did blow,
Leaving friar in a show!
Friar ran to the lord's hall,
Told his tale to one and all,
But the lord and squire laughed with glee,
At the friar's fart folly!
"Divide that fart among your kin,
Each a piece, so thin and thin,
Share it out, let all partake,
Of the gift you tried to take."
So beware the greedy friar,
Seeking gifts to lift him higher,
For in the end, a fart might be,
The only gift for hypocrisy!
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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