#platonic elements

[nic-mccool]

Platonic: Hexahedron

Humor me, if you could When I propose this cliché Of golden hair falling Like pure sunlight From a clear blue-eyed sky Even unknowing Prompting the plants to grow; Imagine, silly as it might seem, That I am a hint of green Encouraged to emerge By your distant warmth.

If I could say these things And do justice to you, I would. And yet, While the image is worn, I'll set the rest of this scene In the hopes that you'll notice What sets you apart From any other ray.

The sunlight filters Through treetop leaves Before landing Gently Dappling the ground With light and shadow. Dust dances in the rays; The soil is warm The moss is soft The stream is near enough To provide its pleasant noise. The earth reaches for the sun.

You are seated On a rock In the sun; I lay beside you. You read a book. I contemplate the universe Hidden within a wisp of moss Emerging from the stone.

A breeze appears momentarily

Twirls through the leaves

Skips through the grass

And wraps its fingers in your hair;

You smooth it absentmindedly

Returning to your book.

I lay my head down

Returning to my contemplation

Of slow, gentle growth.

[nic-mccool]

Platonic - Dodecahedron - Aether

Summer sunlight dancing in the dirt; that is my skin. Glowing here, ashen there, scars and marks of life. Hair that is adventurous in color and in shape Rests upon your head. Or rather, on my head is restless.

Eyes of amber trap my memories of mint and time; Winter sadness may bring floods that dull the glowing tint, but Sunlight will illuminate the liquid gold and show Clearly passions scattered on the surface of the sap.

Sculpted out of stone - but no, I’m much too soft for that; Smiles need more forgiving substrate than do succulents. Sculpted out of clay - and yet still firm enough to touch; Smiling cannot melt it, but perhaps still give me warmth.

Days could pass and still I could not find a symbol Fanciful enough to do my visage justice, while Vague enough to venture close to truth... My face is sculpted out of nothing short of stardust.

I may not see it yet, but I am good and whole. They are not the aether that surrounds me. I am.

[nic-mccool]

Platonic: Octahedron

My perception of flying is skewed, I know. My perception of flying Is that I fall And then you catch me So that I never have to hit the ground; My perception of flying Is that I don't Have to tell you I need you to catch me, And you do anyway.

Conversation with you Is like jumping; The air is thin, But I don't need to breathe; I feel the wind Wash tears from my eyes; I feel the sun Give me wings of fire; I feel the fear of falling And I trust That you won't let me hit the ground.

I hope your clouds Are solid enough That I can rest upon them; Though logically This should not be the case. I hope your clouds Are more solid Than the one who taught me This is how you fly…

In reality I suppose I'll drop From a rain cloud Of my own design, Fall. And the rain Will catch up with me Only after I've hit the ground.

[nic-mccool]

Platonic: Tetrahedron

I wish that I could write about The details of you Like love poems do But I don't have the memory for that. If I know about your freckles Like dying embers on your skin It is only because I am looking At your photograph. If I think about the dimples on your back, Casting dancing shadows when you move, I do not know if they are real Or my imagination. Images like these do not burn into my mind.

I wish I could talk about The details of you Like love songs do. But that is not what I know

I know that when I'm with you I'm dancing on fire A little clumsy A little awkward A little lively A little rushed. The details don't matter When you move this fast. I'm much more graceful than you I know this is true But you tease me And you spite me And I stumble And fall My grace disappears When you talk like that.

We are each the kindling To one another's fires; We are each the flame That burns us down. Wind or water could quench us, And yet instead we flicker on: Your words burn me. My touch burns you. We burn each other.

[nic-mccool]

Platonic: Icosahedron

My affection for you is Submerged Its sight is slightly blurred, Its hearing muffled; But nonetheless It is not dull. I feel your touch Even from a distance, Like there is water Bridging the gap Between you and I.

I feel not the touch Of earth beneath my feet Nor wind in my hair Nor sunlight on my cheek, Because I am suspended With you In a place In a moment And the very texture of time Feels like the satin of the depths.

If I cannot hear your music Through the water, If I cannot quite comprehend your beauty, I am sorry That my senses won't cooperate.

I am sorry I am not as comfortable In the sea as you; I am sorry I cannot join you For after all Eventually I must take a breath.

[visualizingmath]

Platonic Elements

Regular polygons, by definition, are two-dimensional shapes bounded by sides of equal length, each making the same angles with its neighbors. Equilateral triangles, squares, regular pentagons, and so on are all regular polygons. Platonic solids are the three-dimensional analog of regular polygons, and prove to be far more interesting. Platonic solids are bounded by regular polygons, all of the same size and shape. There are exactly five Platonic solids.

The tetrahedron has four triangular faces, the hexahedron (cube) has six square faces, the octahedron has eight triangular faces, the dodecahedron has twelve pentagonal faces, and the icosahedron has twenty triangular faces. Plato proposed that four of these solids built the Four Elements: sharp-pointed tetrahedra were the sting of fire, smooth-sliding octahedra were easily-parted air, droplety icosahedra were water, and lumpish, packable hexahedra (cubes) were earth. The dodecahedron, at last, was the shape of the Universe as a whole. Later Aristotle emended Plato’s system, suggesting that dodecahedra provide a fifth essence—the space-filling Aether.