September 5, 2008 at 11:21 am 1 comment

Cold can be a pint of lager.
Cold can be a solid wall of glass.
Cold can be the air-conditioner
aimed at my cubicle from 9 to 5.
But neither your breath or sweat,
nor your exhaustion or stink.
Those are mine by right and by chauvinism.
By my egocentricity, I own their warmth.
My soul and the warmth of that air,
they are doomed to a symbiosis
approved by you.

© 2007 Ritwik Banerjee

Creative Commons License

Approved by
Ritwik Banerjee is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

Entry filed under: art.

The Last Request Still My Paradise

1 Comment Add your own

  • 1. tuttysan  |  March 23, 2013 at 9:16 pm

    Thought I’d pass by and re-read some of your poems. This one escaped me back in 2007. This poem is so endearing. “By my egocentricity, I own their warmth”. Loved it, and everything that comes after. I hope you are well, my old poetry critic. 🙂


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Trackback this post  |  Subscribe to the comments via RSS Feed

others do

Distant visitors . . .

Visitor count

  • 142,108

If you have liked this blog, then

  • Feed on Leaves: 
  • With Feedburner
  • With bloglines Subscribe with Bloglines

Blog Directories

%d bloggers like this: