Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.029 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 Magic Land

by Edward Robert Bulwer-Lytton

−0.5800 − 0.4668i

Drawing the boundary…

The Black Christ

by Arthur Shearly Cripps

−0.5995 − 0.4460i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Magic Land

by Edward Robert Bulwer-Lytton

By woodland belt, by ocean bar,
The full south breeze our foreheads fann'd,
And lightly roll'd round moon and star
Low music from the Magic Land.

By ocean bar, by woodland belt,
More fragrant grew the glowing night,
While, faint thro' dark blue air, we felt
The breath of some unnamed Delight;

Till Morning rose, and smote from far
Her elfin harps. Then sea, and sky,
And woodland belt, and ocean bar,
To one sweet note, sigh'd Italy!

The Black Christ

by Arthur Shearly Cripps

Pilate and Caïaphas
They have brought this thing to pass—
That a Christ the Father gave,
Should be guest within a grave.
 
Church and State have willed to last
This tyranny not over-past;
His dark southern Brows around
They a wreath of briars have bound,
In His dark despiséd Hands
Writ in sores their writing stands.
 
By strait starlit ways I creep,
Caring while the careless sleep,
Bearing balms, and flow’rs to crown
That poor Head the stone holds down,
Through some crack or crevice dim
I would reach my sweets to Him.
 
Easter suns they rise and set,
But that stone is steadfast yet:
Past my lifting ’tis but I
When ’tis lifted would be nigh.
I believe, whate’er they say,
The sun shall dance an Easter Day,
And I that through thick twilight grope
With balms of faith, and flow’rs of hope,
Shall lift mine eyes and see that stone
Stir and shake, if not be gone.

—
—
0:00
0:00
Track 1
Skip to main content