John Siddique

 

Love and the Body

and all there is, is love and the body,
nothing to give but this moment,
and this moment and this moment,

and all there has ever been is you and I
so easily lost in the feelings, the reaching,
and all there is, is love and the body.

All these faces and you and I
the space between, like the morning light,
and this moment, and this moment.

Surrounded by your sound, as if bees
were swarming, or a distant voice calling your name,
and all there is, is love and the body.

Our bodies, our trees of life.
The fruit of ourselves, giving and self-giving,
and this moment and this moment.

You are an unanswered question.
All there is, is love and the body.
Action of blood, character, skin, muscle, thought,
and this moment and this moment.

Thirst

Imagine thirst without knowing water.
And you ask me what freedom means.
Imagine love without love.

Some things are unthinkable,
until one day the unthinkable is here.
Imagine thirst without knowing water.

Some things we assume just are as they are,
no action is taken to make or sustain them.
Imagine love without love.

It is fear that eats the heart: fear and
endless talk, and not risking a step.
Imagine thirst without knowing water.

Fold away your beautiful thoughts.
Talk away curiosity, chatter away truth.
Imagine love without love.

Imagine believing in the whispers,
the screams and the gossip. Dancing to a tune
with no song to sing inside you.
Imagine love without love.

Inside # 2

“There is no more time”
9.47, the peak of the morning rush is
beginning to subside, though the tube is
closed so he’s taking the bus to work.
A woman at the front of the bus is
on her way to her course. There is
a girl on her way to the dentist, and
a cleaner on her way home. A bus full
of people like this and more.

Then there is no more time, just a flash.
No time for fear. Here then gone, or
unconscious, or at the edge, or screaming.
All fixed in their own heads a moment ago,
busy being late for things, tired, looking forward
to a cup of tea, or just getting there
to get out of this traffic.

9.47 lasts forever and ticks on for the rest of us.
Before and after the application of words. Divide
the hour, divide the minute, sub-divide the second,
keep on dividing and time ceases to exist.

Desire for sight (after Lorca)

When gossip starts all that is left is gossip.

When fear takes hold, all that is left is the fear.

Fold away your papers,

colour in the outlines.

Regret is the first town our train will pass though.

Unknowing, the confusion of unknowing.

Let my country see itself,

may its people be visible to each other.