Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.025 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.

Defeat

by Kahlil Gibran

0.1129 + 0.2249i

Drawing the boundary…

Neurotics

by Philip Arthur Larkin

0.0879 + 0.2250i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Defeat

by Kahlil Gibran

Defeat, my Defeat, my solitude and my aloofness;
You are dearer to me than a thousand triumphs,
And sweeter to my heart than all world-glory.

Defeat, my Defeat, my self-knowledge and my defiance,
Through you I know that I am yet young and swift of foot
And not to be trapped by withering laurels.
And in you I have found aloneness
And the joy of being shunned and scorned.

Defeat, my Defeat, my shining sword and shield,
In your eyes I have read
That to be enthroned is to be enslaved,
And to be understood is to be leveled down,
And to be grasped is but to reach one’s fullness
And like a ripe fruit to fall and be consumed.

Defeat, my Defeat, my bold companion,
You shall hear my songs and my cries and my silences,
And none but you shall speak to me of the beating of wings,
And urging of seas,
And of mountains that burn in the night,
And you alone shall climb my steep and rocky soul.

Defeat, my Defeat, my deathless courage,
You and I shall laugh together with the storm,
And together we shall dig graves for all that die in us,
And we shall stand in the sun with a will,
And we shall be dangerous.

Neurotics

by Philip Arthur Larkin

No one gives you a thought, as day by day 
You drag your feet, clay-thick with misery.
None think how stalemate in you grinds away, 
Holding your spinning wheels an inch too high 
To bite on earth. The mind, it's said, is free
But not your minds. They, rusted stiff, admit 
Only what will accuse or horrify,
Like slot-machines only bent pennies fit.

So year by year your tense unfinished faces 
Sink further from the light. No one pretends 
To want to help you now. For interest passes 
Always towards the young and more insistent,
And skirts locked rooms where a hired darkness ends 
Your long defence against the non-existent.

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