Reconfigured Visions

This interactive demonstration reveals an anagrammatic transformation between three interconnected sonnets that maintain exactly the same inventory of letters. Each vision—of enchantment, deceit, and fate—emerges from the same pool of characters, demonstrating how poetic form can be endlessly reconfigured while meaning transforms. The poems reference their own anagrammatic nature.

Witness the Anagrammatic Cycle

Experience how these three visions transform into one another through perfect anagrammatic rearrangement.

The Three Visions

First Vision
Faerie enchantment, stroke of trickery in anagrams enciphered what awe wrought. One tastes the clever portent yet cannot cook up the wedded, shrewd duplicity. Same old walled-in Oulipian, I see I'm soon a voodoo Merlin, rapt in thought, defeated, dazed by this fake Camelot, editing wedding details poured on me. Compiled Shakespearean poet hones wild task, jotting down two swell poems, as I mask one common site for each, a letter-terse homeroom the potted muses deem some curse. I fidget to dash off my wonder. Quick, I project flowers elsewhere, oh so slick!
Second Vision
To show me how her wicked project loops, Deceit had managed to project her reel against my bedroom wall, a wound of leer scarring within me as she wound the spool. And I decided, for the sake of mood, to serve aperitifs: "It's sake time." I drank and prayed Agape would emit haze from her scented mouth agape with doom. Onscreen, the gods, it seems, desert yet keep scattering sand clouds like some desert wolf. I lie to sense the movie's content flow too quickly to take form. Content to peek, I wonder why, and while a minute peels, I slip from the minute account and sleep.
Third Vision
Fortuna's echoed legends are foretold when, one odd meteor zooming past the place, entropic time endears me with the cold command of every edge inside the space. What wonder trick would pesky phantoms see inside the queer, true, deeper room, as they toil with the softer deck of wood for me I seek the luck some of the Greeks display. Two poems led in to deem a tangled fate, in abject echo of our disrepair, I jot a clock (I contemplate and wait), as letters swap and words dissolve in air. The muses, plucking what tremendous moon, will ink enigma so that I may swoon.

Technical Note: This tripartite work explores the intersection of constraint and creativity through three interconnected sonnets. Each vision contains exactly the same letters in the same quantities, demonstrating how form can be endlessly reconfigured while meaning transforms through anagrammatic rearrangement.