Unasked Poems | Examples

The Silent Kiss

The silent kiss can come with secrecy
minus a face to reveal its patron.
           Easily detected singing love’s strong melody,
           best surprises come from unknown mister or matron.

     A twenty-dollar bill found tucked in a pocket
     with an unsigned note – spend as you like.
          Unasked-for help with a faved broken locket
          echoes thoughts of that boy with his thumb in the dike?

Without coveting acclaim for paying-it-forward
  the silent kiss means planning things through;
taking serious your promises - keeping your word…
            notably to a child who has before mistrusted you.

      Cutting single neighbor’s grass and tackling her weeds
      can make a difference when she doesn’t have time.
Treating her and her kids to dinner knowing their needs,
the silent kiss takes no account for each nickel or dime.

In the dance of conscious life, death wears its silver mask

In the dance of conscious life, death wears its silver mask,
And beneath the veil of darkness, a hidden life flickers softly,
If we closed our eyes, blindness would be a sublime gift,
We'd see how we fight for subtle, ephemeral illusions.
In the silence that embraces us, reality unveils in the dark,
A vast and profound universe, beyond our petty dreams,
Where light no longer penetrates, truth is born from chaos,
And we see how we've lived for chimeras, for faceless shadows.
The mind's eye opens only when the light dims slowly,
And in the absence of brilliance, we see the essence we always missed,
In the eternal night, we find answers to unasked questions,
For only in darkness is the magic of unknown, pure life born.
Thus, in the flow of consciousness, we lose ourselves in unexplored depths,
We find a profound calm, a peace born from obscurity,
And in this secret silence, we discover we're more
Than mere shadows dancing on the stage of the fleeting world.

Smitten by Kitten Disinterest

never loved cat ways
their tail-flicking arrogance
their unasked-for gaze
my family longed for one —
I yielded, keeping distance

stray kitten arrived
they all fawned gushed over it
but the cat chose me
the least interested one
who shooed and shoved it away

smitten by kitten
my heart disinterested
lurched to beat retreat
we're inseparable now
the kitten has claimed my lap

Ether

Darkness.
Drip.
Not absence,
but a rarified vastness
thick with hush,
like a cavern 
carved behind my eyes.

Drip.
Drip.
Somewhere, water—
not seen,
just heard,
each drop a soft footstep
in the void behind me.

Concentric rings of silence.
And then—
a pulsating dot of light.
Drip.
It grows— 
breathes—
radiates outward in color—
rings blooming
from the dark
like ripples in a pond
no stone ever touched.
Drip.

And then
there was no difference
between the rings and me—
no watcher—
no watched—
only light,
arriving
from within
and without.

No fear.
No body.
Only
the warmth
of being,
the ease
of breath,
and wonder—
vast
and unasked for.
I become the light.

Nocturnes of Surrender

You speak, and my spine remembers
that I was built to bow.
Your breath: a nocturne in C sharp minor—
unasked, entering…
disarming, following. 

You lean in like Chopin leaned on silence—
possessively, melancholic need 
before sound—searing hushes that 
demand submission in return.


And I am raindrops to your 
sustaining notes….
storming into the song’s development—
I become the keys, and you the fingers…

—you press out sounds of me—
architectures, arts, poesy,
nocturnes of surrender
rising in my throat…
into yours.

When Time Looks Back

I never liked how time passed,
So many things are left unasked.
It can be slow and dreading,
Threading softly through.

Or as fast as a lightning bolt,
So speedy, it makes you greedy.

And when you look back at yourself and see the progress,
You might call it success, it may bring you stress.

But no matter what, time will never stop,
So, stand up and grab your mop.

Sweep the days both fast and slow,
Build your path and let it grow.

In the end, it will all be forgotten and long gone,
Like a memory leaping through the dark fog.

Butterfly's Wander

Once upon a time
the old songs were new
On prairies unplanted
invaders were few 

Where rivers rolled onward
no ferries or towns
All riverboat minstrels
new ages impound

The time of the season
unmeasured refrain
And cursed belladonna
tomorrow to reign

As butterfly’s wander
o’er questions unasked
A dark shrouded answer
—  the future unmasks

(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)

Ember of Intellectual Acuity

A spark ignited when our paths first crossed,
Your knowledge kindled, my ignorance tossed.

From a timid flicker to a steady glow,
Our bond, like embers, began to grow.

Your wisdom blazed, a guiding light so bright,
Illuminating truths are once hidden from sight.

In learning's heart, our spirits intertwined,
A sacred fire of mentor and mind.

But time, relentless, feeds on mortal flame,
And even the wisest cannot remain.

Your light now fades, yet lingers in the air,
A warmth remembered, beyond compare.

The pyre of knowledge you so proudly built,
Now, it smoulders low, leaving me with guilt.

For lessons missed and questions left unasked,
As twilight falls on your final task.

In ashen whispers, your teachings persist,
Through smoky memories, too precious to resist.

Though you are gone, your spark lives on in me,
A flame of wisdom, burning ceaselessly.

Your absence chills, yet warms me all the same,
For in my heart, you're an eternal flame.

I tend this ember, with reverence and care,
Honouring the light we used to share

After The Floods

Cracked castles are in dilemma. whether to fall or stand
Waters whirl like a lake and sea, with a lean sign of land.
Among the carcasses of beasts lie humans, as though mixed
In destiny's destructive force, nature remains transfixed.

Swarms of insects strive for existence. Will they all outlast?
Ants carry a dead snakelet in procession, unasked.
Do dogs, cats, goats, and cows think that they're in a swimming pool?
Aren't they on their final journey, though the water is cool?

Blessed are the rescuers, who risk their lives to save others.
To leave one to die or to save them, they have their druthers.
It's due these that the catastrophes of nature get humbled.
The fanfaronade of death and its decay get crumbled

The flood is like autumn. With its waters, it flows and fades.
Doesn’t the drought-flood scene have been enacted like sun and shades?
Vegetation sprouts with renewed vigour, power and strength.
Meadows, orchids, and orchards spread out to an unseen length.

Will You

 "The throb of my heart
Will you love me forever,
with all my frailty and flaws?"

"My Darling, why doubt?
You entered my heart unasked,
like a thief never to leave."

Think it - Be it

You never receive the unasked for.
There are good mantras and bad mantras.
Good for you, or bad for you that is.

Think a 'poor me' thought,
and poor you will answer Yes.
Nothing good comes from that yes.

Declare your greatness,
your magnificent you-ness
and that you-ness will make that
just as true as you think it.

This is the magic spell:
you never receive the unasked for.
Be sure what you ask for.

What I Regret the Most

The thing about having Ex’s 
is that you dream about each one
at times to relieve the pain
At times just for fun
Sometimes you miss their beauty
Sometimes you miss their laugh
But mostly miss their presence
wishing they were still there
You don’t forget their faces
And you don’t forget that stare
The silent unasked question
The “Why?” that isn’t there
You regret the separation
Sometimes with deep despair
You miss their little duties
That often showed they cared
Then you taste depression
That takes you God knows where
If you haven't recovered yet
Keep looking for that repair
Regret shows it’s ugly face
When you cannot be there
And arms they seem so empty
When once they could show care
Having regretted the moments
Yet rejoicing that you cared
You ask the Lord to bless them
With a silent prayer

Secret Love

Her love for me, 
Was as vast as a sea.
Many a time, she invited me 
To her abode, for a cup of tea!

When I was sick in bed,
And was found almost dead;
She nursed me day and night,    	
My head in her lap, with delight!

When I was buried deep in debts,
She rescued me from public’s threats.
Liked walking with me arm in arm;
And tried to enthrall me by her charm!

Unasked, she attended to my every need, 
Her feelings for me, I couldn’t read.
For my love, a silent plea,	
In her eyes, I couldn’t see.

She dared not tell her love to me;
The fault was also mine; I do agree.
For not getting down on my knee,
I couldn't become her 'Shri'*!

Does secret love ever succeed?
It ends in failure in deed!!


Note: ‘Shri’* (India) a polite form of address equivalent to the English ‘Mr’.

Melancholy of a Solitary Bird

The weight of my heart feels heavy, 
As I watch you talk about leaving. 
A pit of despair swallows me whole, 
As I imagine a world without you, alone and cold.
Every whispered word of freedom, 
Feels like a death knell for our love. 
I try to understand your longing, 
But the pain of losing you makes my heart feel strung.
Am I not enough to make your heart sing? 
Is this partnership not worth the fight?
These questions taunt and sting, 
As I try to make sense of your sudden flight.
The crushing weight of heartbreak rests heavy on my chest,
As I hear you speak of freedom, of leaving all the rest. 
My mind races with fears, with questions left unasked, 
As I watch my happiness shatter, an impossible task.
What of all the dreams we shared,
the plans we made for life? 
The hurt and pain of these thoughts cut deep within my soul, 
As I witness your desire for freedom, 
as you plan to tow a different role.
The thought of you moving away, 
of leaving me behind, 
Rips my life apart, 
my heart in desperate bind. 

©Chitra Arun

Not Cut Out For the Ninja Life

Seen in the movies, swishing swords about,
Those Ninja fighters make you want to run,
Hiding in shadows, jumping in and out,
Would challenge me: my Ninja skills are none.

However do they manage all they do?
So swathed in dark disguise and masked,
And carrying a bow and arrow too,
Leaping on rooftops, entering unasked.

I couldn’t hit a target with a dart,
Even in daylight, even standing still,
Just opening a pocket-knife’s an art,
I break my fingernails and always will.

It’s somehow not for me, that Ninja-ing,
Given that my knees are past my best,
I have to watch my back when gardening,
And carry reading glasses in my vest.

So Ninja life is not the thing for me,
No warrior, I’m English, mild and free,
That night air fogs my glasses constantly,
I’d rather watch the cricket on TV!

• Short Unasked Poems
• Famous Unasked Poems
• Best Unasked Poems
• Read Unasked Poems
• Long Unasked Poems
• Unasked Quotes