Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.007 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.

Wanting the Moon

by Cale Young Rice

−0.4044 − 0.2714i

Drawing the boundary…

Joy Supreme

by W. H. Davies

−0.4017 − 0.2783i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Wanting the Moon

by Cale Young Rice

'Don't cry, don't cry for the moon!'
Her restive heart would croon;
Her restive heart of delights and fears,
Of laughter tangled amid her tears,
'Don't cry for the moon!'

For she wanted the moon herself; wanted
The shimmering moon of wealth and love,
The moon of rank and fame that haunted
The heavens above her.
She wanted the moon, and so would sing
To any, with odd caprice, 'Don't cry!
Don't cry for the moon!'—betraying
Her own appeaseless sigh.

'Don't cry, don't cry for the moon!'
It broke her peace at last.
It broke her mind and it broke her heart,
And she died in a place that is set apart
For the moon-criers—who do not know
That the moon's for none—only its glow;
Only its even radiance, cast
On all, with aimless art.

Joy Supreme

by W. H. Davies

The birds are pirates of her notes,
The blossoms steal her face's light;
The stars in ambush lie all day,
To take her glances for the night.
Her voice can shame rain-pelted leaves;
Young robin has no notes as sweet
In autumn, when the air is still,
And all the other birds are mute.

When I set eyes on ripe, red plums
That seem a sin and shame to bite,
Such are her lips, which I would kiss,
And still would keep before my sight.
When I behold proud gossamer
Make silent billows in the air,
Then think I of her head's fine stuff,
Finer than gossamer's, I swear.

The miser has his joy, with gold
Beneath his pillow in the night;
My head shall lie on soft warm hair,
And miser's know not that delight.
Captains that own their ships can boast
Their joy to feel the rolling brine—
But I shall lie near her, and feel
Her soft warm bosom swell on mine.

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