Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.008 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.

Jacob Braham

by Edgar Lee Masters

−0.1759 + 0.6955i

Drawing the boundary…

Bugging Out

by Richard

−0.1830 + 0.6987i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Jacob Braham

by Edgar Lee Masters

In your mortal days did you not see
That man is linked to every living thing
By kindred ties of physical substance and form,
And by ties of physical need and function?
And that the thing called life
Is the same, whether in plant or beast or man?
And when you saw that man's body was not alone
In the world of created beings,
And that man's life was not alone
In the world of living beings,
Did it not give you the hint that man's soul is not alone,
But is companioned and sustained
By genera of spirits,
And by hierarchies of gods,
Bound together by the same spiritual blood,
And rising by creative evolutions
To kinship with God Himself?

Bugging Out

by Richard

I woke up one fine morning, feeling something strange,
Looked down at my new body, oh, this is quite the change,
Legs a-wiggle, shell a-shine, I’m not sure how to cope,
Living life as a giant bug, there’s really little hope.

I’m bugging out, bugging out, in this crazy human world,
With my antennae up, my plans unfurled,
I’m bugging out, bugging out, trying to get along,
Who knew an insect’s life could inspire a song?

The cat’s indifferent, the dog’s afraid, Mum’s clutching at her pearls,
Dad’s got the broom, and Grete’s fainting, it’s a rollercoaster whirl,
Tried to text my boss, told him I’d be late,
Ended up with pizza, oh, life’s a twist of fate.

I’m zooming through the chat rooms, looking for my kin,
Found a toaster transformation, but no one quite like me within,
Webcam call with colleagues, they’re laughing, can’t believe,
I might be a giant bug, but I still know how to grieve.

Scuttling ‘cross the floorboards, dodging every broom,
Avoiding all the sunlight, I prefer the darkened gloom,
Work’s a lost endeavour, my boss left quite a note,
But I’m adjusting to this new life, even if remote.

So here’s to metamorphosis, in this digital age,
Living life as a giant bug, on my very own stage,
I’m bugging out, bugging out, making my own way,
Learning to embrace this life, come what may.

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Track 1
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