Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

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.

A Lady with a Falcon on Her Fist

by Richard Lovelace

0.1790 − 0.4773i

Drawing the boundary…

Latest Face

by Philip Arthur Larkin

0.1631 − 0.4897i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

A Lady with a Falcon on Her Fist

by Richard Lovelace

                    I.
This Queen of Prey (now prey to you),
  Fast to that pirch of ivory
In silver chaines and silken clue,
  Hath now made full thy victory:

                    II.
The swelling admirall of the dread
  Cold deepe, burnt in thy flames, oh faire!
Wast not enough, but thou must lead
  Bound, too, the Princesse of the aire?

                    III.
Unarm'd of wings and scaly oare,
  Unhappy crawler on the land,
To what heav'n fly'st? div'st to what shoare,
  That her brave eyes do not command?

                    IV.
Ascend the chariot of the Sun
  From her bright pow'r to shelter thee:
Her captive (foole) outgases him;
  Ah, what lost wretches then are we!

                    V.
Now, proud usurpers on the right
  Of sacred beauty, heare your dombe;
Recant your sex, your mastry, might;
  Lower you cannot be or'ecome:

                    VI.
Repent, ye er'e nam'd he or head,
  For y' are in falcon's monarchy,
And in that just dominion bred,
  In which the nobler is the shee.

Latest Face

by Philip Arthur Larkin

Latest face, so effortless 
Your great arrival at my eyes,
No one standing near could guess 
Your beauty had no home till then, 
Precious vagrant, recognise 
My look, and do not turn again.

Admirer and admired embrace 
On a useless level, where 
I contain your current grace,
You my judgment; yet to move 
Into real untidy air 
Brings no lasting attribute—
Bargains, suffering, and love,
Not this always-planned salute.

Lies grow dark around us will 
The statue of your beauty walk?
Must I wade behind it, till 
Something's found — or is not found — 
Far too late for turning back? 
Or, if I will not shift my ground,
Is your power actual — can 
Denial of you duck and run,
Stay out of sight and double round,
Leap from the sun with mask and brand 
And murder and not understand?

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