Each passing moment,
Exaggerates into an impatient wait
To get caught,
In this daily, unreal entanglement.
You exist somewhere,
Far from reality,
Yet not a dream.
Beyond touch,
Faceless.
Toneless.
Our expectant fingers,
Very deftly, each day,
Weave a gossamer web
Of words.
Significant.
Irrelevant.
Harsh.
Silken.
We click,
And connect well.
© 2009 Rituparna Das
About Me
- Rituparna
- I started writing on an impulse, as my very first post indicates. It was mostly, as an effort to understand myself better. I have graduated from that phase, lately. These days the endeavor is mostly creative. I indulge myself in poetry writing:)! More than often, love pervaded,thus a tad bit embarrassing at times. But how can I help it, being an incurable romantic at heart. Life and literature is meaningless to me, sans romance. I am still extremely self conscious about this, and only very recently have started sharing this link with the world. Inspite of this awkward shyness, like any writer, I too have a strong urge to be read. What can be a better platform than this....thus...I continue writing so! A few lines about the title of my blog...Lais.sez-faire...I don't know french. I came across this phrase in wikipedia....somehow, one day...the very essence of freedom, surrounding this particular phrase appealed to me, though technically it indicates higher forms of political, social and economic ideology. Why should I bother about such lofty, obtuse concepts, I am just an aspiring poet, and absolutely refuse to look beyond the beauty of this phrase!
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