Short Uncommitted Poems

The only sin uncommitted,
—is the one unknown

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)...

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The only sin uncommitted
  —is the one unknown

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)...

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Lightly armed and uncommitted
—the question always turns to why

(Martha Brown’s Woods: January, 2021)...

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Some say you're arrogant.
You say simply confident.


They say you're hard-headed.
You tell them just opinionated.


To some you're uncommitted.
To you merely open-minded.


Differences in points of view
skewed as viewed by them and you!...

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I keep my remote distance:
controlling volume,
sweep of channels--
omnipotence in the palm of my hand.

Of course we know
in our hearts
this is foolish--
the entire exercise
or lack of;

the sediment life style
or lack of;
death in an easy chair--
too easy to die,
far too soft 
and cushy
to take shape 
and usefully live.......

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Like a quivering leaf climbing
unreachable thighs of a cloud
in naked shelter of sun.

I lament the fall 
of a colossus
who would not live in a glass house.

Ash smeared on face 
a name walks on the book
of barefoot poems.

Today I am going to morph 
into a death sentence 
for an uncommitted crime.

Who had lost himself 
in unslept awakening
of a disaster ?



Satish Verma...

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To live non-affirming
to live not at all
To hide in the shadows
and creep down the hall

To live uncommitted
new doubts to contend
All time intermittent
repressed till the end

To live without friendship
alone on the rock
A wandering echo
reflections that mock

To live undecided
with doubt your best friend
a future derided
—the present pretend

(Dreamsleep: November, 2022)...

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some say he's just confident,
   you say, no, he's very arrogant,
others say he's opinionated,
   you say simply hard-headed;

for some, he's open-minded,
   for you,  plainly uncommitted,
for others, he's truly tolerant,
   for you, he's heretic, ignorant,

some say he's a freedom-fighter,
   you call him terrorist murderer,
these matters of point of view,
   viewed and construed by you!...

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The space between the 
two ends,was becoming 
       a game of thorns.

The leprous increase 
tips the moon. An unseen
        virgin becomes red rose.

It was another day in 
the desert. I don’t want 
          to become a prophet.

A titular sun was 
collecting the lilies to 
          divide the night in halves.

Manipulating the nucleus, 
are you ready to accept 
          the uncommitted sin ?


Satish Verma...

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Some say you're very arrogant,
 to you, no, you're just confident;
  others say you're hard-headed,
   you say, no, simply opinionated.


For some, you're so uncommitted,
 for you, no, merely open-minded;
  to others, you're plainly ignorant,
   to you, no, just being tolerant.


They call you a terrorist and murderer,
 but you say you are a freedom-fighter;
  these differences in points of view
   viewed, construed by them and you!...

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It returns to haunt, 
the dilemma, of disowning 
the old version of truth;
when I was searching the parallelism
for the sake of otherness.

The unreturning melancholia, 
brings the surreal intruder, 
I did not want to entertain.

The insane activity of heart 
wants a sin uncommitted.

The flirt eyes like a tulip 
between your fingers, 
unrolling the tender petals.

Night throws the salt on the moon.

There were no tears.


Satish Verma...

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