an encounter with the 4th dimension

is not often uttered out aloud,

lest the neighbors and polite crowd

gasp – and look shocked.

for what is seen is easily believed,

for what is heard can be reconfirmed

from an audio recorder hacked

to play back the schizoid brain

dismantling reality, refixing images

torn off, chipped away

from too much scrubbing, attention given

to an unruly child howling

and the permanent footprints bearing

down like a star caving in with all the

weight. ripped off the pages lived

with i, you, me, them, at crossroads wobbling

till the ground become sink holes

welcoming. this tirade, cheap shots taken

beneath the belly – then the sight of

what we keep hidden becomes like daggers

frozen in mid air, the belief hangs tight,

the only salvation worth living for –

a blushing candle flame retreats

back to when it was all cold, inert wick

desiring fire. then the shadows took shape,

took life, like cannibalization: consumption

till the belly swelled, then broke with many

mouths, hands and fists plastering away

on a room determined to find peace disintegrating

inside mouths wet, hands slick, fists hard

pummeling away at thin air

escaping up a chimney, up towards heaven unbound.

tears like lava flow down these porous rocks

of hearts wishing to feel. to capture that essence

breathing hot air like a dragon’s breath, that

chill of knowing, of realizing one is not alone

in an empty room, a grasping for ends that never

had a beginning. with solemn awareness growing,

like curtains parting before a play, a main event

where the primo donna enters the stage, then a sudden

climax when hot air takes shape, takes life –

a super nova, a death, reborn, when the scales begin

to tilt, till the see-saw rocks objectively, surely,

almost beaming in pleasure at having found

a solid footing on the mouths, hands and fists

claiming that light and fire never should be mixed.

and of this i am sure: the dancing memories scorched

those footprints no longer heavy, the heaviness becomes

a sigh, for the light gave truth, but never change. just

a quiet acceptance on the nature of things, the ramblings

of a hermit trying to close the door while the sink holes

tried to rush in. sucking out light. and a whimsical fire

blinks twice, then hot air burst into living flames so

incandescent it shut out the vision of daring shadows

mimicking flesh. a pin drop. a mustard seed sprouting,

with words etched in heart, the full bellied darkness

consumed it not, when living fire scorched, labelled,

burned away at fallen angels able to give only

light without heat.