Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.096 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.

On the Nature of Love

by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

0.5598 + 0.6134i

Drawing the boundary…

Death

by Thomas MacDonagh

0.4681 + 0.6430i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

On the Nature of Love

by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

You ask my love. What shall my love then be? 
A hope, an aspiration, a desire? 
The soul’s eternal charter writ in fire 
Upon the earth, the heavens, and the sea? 
You ask my love. The carnal mystery 
Of a soft hand, of finger-tips that press, 
Of eyes that kindle and of lips that kiss, 
Of sweet things known to thee and only thee? 
You ask my love. What love can be more sweet 
Than hope or pleasure? Yet we love in vain. 
The soul is more than joy, the life than meat. 
The sweetest love of all were love in pain, 
And that I will not give. So let it be. 
—Nay, give me any love, so it be love of thee.

Death

by Thomas MacDonagh

Life is a boon—and death, as spirit and flesh are twain:
The body is spoil of death, the spirit lives on death-free;
The body dies and its wound dies and the mortal pain;
The wounded spirit lives, wounded immortally.

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