Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.011 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.

He Likens Her to a Rose-Tree, Himself to the Wind

by F. S. Flint

0.0249 − 0.1353i

Drawing the boundary…

Should lanterns shine

by Dylan Thomas

0.0141 − 0.1368i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

He Likens Her to a Rose-Tree, Himself to the Wind

by F. S. Flint

Our feet are treading on earth's parapet
Over the heavens. Among the stars we stept.

Night has been drawn up trembling from his lair,
And the four winds play in our ruffled hair.

Along the black bare branch sleeps almond bloom,
Silvery in the slow silver of the moon.

You are mysterious, and you speak no word;
And who you may be I have never heard.

But though this secret I can never know,
So that you love me, I am content 'tis so,—

So that I love you, I, the wind, and you,
The slim young rose-tree against which I blew,

And rapt the earth with perfume. From the lake
The bright swift fish leapt up for your sweet sake,

And the slow buds were quickened in their pale
Green chalices. I woke the nightingale.

Dear, lift your breasts like two white roses to
The stars. The moon will have no shame of you.

In the calm splendour and the pain of night,
The wind will babble songs of its delight.

Our feet are treading on earth's parapet.

Should lanterns shine

by Dylan Thomas

Should lanterns shine, the holy face,
Caught in an octagon of unaccustomed light,
Would wither up, and any boy of love
Look twice before he fell from grace.
The features in their private dark
Are formed of flesh, but let the false day come
And from her lips the faded pigments fall,
The mummy cloths expose an ancient breast.

I have been told to reason by the heart,
But heart, like head, leads helplessly;
I have been told to reason by the pulse,
And, when it quickens, alter the actions' pace
Till field and roof lie level and the same
So fast I move defying time, the quiet gentleman
Whose beard wags in Egyptian wind.

I have heard many years of telling,
And many years should see some change.

The ball I threw while playing in the park
Has not yet reached the ground.

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