Stifling Lost

I walked through the trees
A parliament of faint flames
Caterwauling indistinct utters
Unnoticed, I blend into the shadows
In the dark valley out of place
But in the haze of the smoke
I flounder inside the vessels
Where the veracious kites
Drift innocuously, ornately fastening
Their strings into mine
And I know, blindly,
I am found.

I swath the uncouth noises
Flipping and jabbing castigations
Of lewd inconsistent flagellations
But who are you to judge
The brilliance of diamonds
When they are still coarse,
When they had it divulged;
It's brambly tarmac fresh
From crawling up the ground?
Who are you
To tell me where and when
I can find myself?

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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