Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.012 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.

The Kid has gone to the Colors

by W.M. Herschell

−0.2840 − 0.4192i

Drawing the boundary…

Would I might go far over sea

by Arthur O'Shaughnessy

−0.2813 − 0.4077i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Kid has gone to the Colors

by W.M. Herschell


The Kid has gone to the Colors
And we don't know what to say;
The Kid we have loved and cuddled
Stepped out for the Flag to-day.
We thought him a child, a baby
With never a care at all,
But his country called him man-size
And the Kid has heard the call.
 
He paused to watch the recruiting,
Where, fired by the fife and drum,
He bowed his head to Old Glory
And thought that it whispered: "Come!"
The Kid, not being a slacker,
Stood forth with patriot-joy
To add his name to the roster—
And God, we're proud of the boy!
 
The Kid has gone to the Colors;
It seems but a little while
Since he drilled a schoolboy army
In a truly martial style,
But now he's a man, a soldier,
And we lend him a listening ear,
For his heart is a heart all loyal,
Unscourged by the curse of fear.
 
His dad, when he told him, shuddered,
His mother—God bless her!—cried;
Yet, blest with a mother-nature,
She wept with a mother-pride,
But he whose old shoulders straightened
Was Granddad—for memory ran
To years when he, too, a youngster,
Was changed by the Flag to a man!

Would I might go far over sea

by Arthur O'Shaughnessy

Would I might go far over sea, 
My Love, or high above the air, 
And come to land or heaven with thee, 
Where no law is and none shall be 
Against beholding the most rare 
Strange beauty that thou hast for me.

Alas, for, in this bitter land,
Full many a written curse doth stand 
Against the kiss thy lips should bear ;
Against the sweet gift of thy hand; 
Against the knowing that thou art fair, 
And too fond loving of thy hair!

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