Archive for category Optical Illusions

Nine of Spades: Perspective

Do you first see the arrows pointing up, or the ones pointing down?

Which way do you see things first? (Click the poems for pdf versions you can enlarge and copy the text from.)

Her eyes betray a happy girl whose glum demeanor simulates much worse conditions striking her, he thinks. Whatever hurt lurks It can't be so large her smiles can't hide her feeling it. She must live, privately, in paradise. In paradise, privately she must live her feeling. It can't hide. Her smile's so large it can't be. Hurt lurks, whatever he thinks. Much worse condition's striking: her glum demeanor simulates a happy girl whose eyes betray her.

When we don't know that it will run out there is no questioning we should enjoy the spoils of Earth if exploited with value for money. Destroying wonders while caring for someone is an ideal fix, never creates a disaster. Disaster creates a fix, never is an ideal. For someone caring wonders, while destroying for money, with value exploited of Earth, if we should enjoy the spoils. There is no questioning that it will run out. We don't know when.

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Seven of Spades: The Duel

At dawn, separated by twenty two paces,
their vertices pointed in each other’s faces,
the cube and its foe Octahedron stood still,
as fair Tetrahedron urged ‘fire at will!’
For Cube fought with earth, Octahedron with air,
and to win Tetrahedron with fire’s not fair.
“Fight fire with fire, that’s what we agreed on!”
said seconds, Dodeca- and Icosahedron.
But they paused, and they wavered, and called, “Toi ou moi?
Who’ll live for now, and who forever, like Galois?”

They each made a face, for they’d each made a point.
Was dying or living the upper adjoint?
The Galois connection was hard to ignore;
he’d dueled over shapely wee solids before,
and though he was shot, we can’t name his opponent,
while Galois’ last writings became a component
of fields (and of groups) of mathematics that show
among other things, what these two solids should know:
That Cube and its friend Octahedron are dual,
and no four-faced loner should cause them to duel.

At once, the two shook off their anthropomorphism,
and saw from their faces to points, isomorphism.
“You cannot kill me,” they each said to the other,
“For if I am a martyr, then so are you, brother,
and even though I’d be like √Čvariste too,
I’d rather not share such an honour with you.”
So they and their seconds proposed to their bride
that four eager suitors could each pick a side.
The pyramid’s answer was sweet but ironic:
“Of course you can share, but my love is Platonic.”

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