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Love in a Handful of Dust: love in a handful of dust
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love in a handful of dust

love in a handful of dust

by Kirk Ramdath

all we know is the beating heart
past and future
heaven and hell
are words
between the arrow and the cracking of the atom
words build unreal cities
all we know is the beating heart
this body
this thirst
skin sweats, brow frets
winter freeze burns nostrils
eyes see, yet we stub toes
skin feels, yet we bite lips
salty iron drips
and falls to earth
words fall on words
like blood upon blood
until words build a prison of flesh
for the mind
memory of need
expelled with seed
heart regrets and rejects
broken heart hurls itself
from the hearth into the sand
heart forgets —
fire cannot be broken
fire wants to burn
mind learns to fear the heat
fear the flame
logic is quick to cool
quick to blame
hands and what they hold —


self hatred boils
lava overflows
& burns
& burns
curséd hands, impure flesh
festering cage of skin
smooth over discordance
of blood and bone
skin that allows the kiss
man to woman
lips to lips
and limbs entwined
the rhythm and
the repetition
of human body love
skin, warm from friction
of skin to skin
hot blood and
body pressed to body
moving body
inside body


wordless conversation
union of mouths
union of hips
force and spirit, spent to send
breathless to receive
consciousness lost in a valley of thought
fangs bite
claws scratch
the frenzied thrust declares —
we eat
we shit
we fuck
like animals
like flesh that we declare —
fit for consumption
like people we declare —
fit for destruction
savages to put in chains
human beings to destroy in atomic fire
before promising to continue
the use of the weapon
claiming the right to swallow the living
into black hole of death
to swallow drums and songs
and children playing
to replace the heat of many hearts
with a gun in every mouth
to betray the living
then speak of honour for the dead
shock and awe shatters
the unity of peaceful souls
war asks too much
and takes too much
the neck of the dove
is broken for freedom again

greet a forest of pines


somewhere close by
runs a hidden creek


robin with a red breast
builds a nest in a tall pine
flying to and fro
from a high place in a tree
to a hollow log below
half reclaimed by forest growth
picking through detritus
for sticks and leaves to build a home
such a simple voice
such a simple need
a perch on a branch,
some mud, sticks, and leaves
then why seems it so particular
with the human species
out of abundance
to make inequality

the forest has so many trees
that blood should never stain the leaves

voice of war
when you speak
why do we listen?
why hasten we from mortal toil
when time already will take all ?

leave me in peace
to write poems for the woman i love
my words have made her smile
if i have some skill to craft words
pleasing to her ears
let me devote my life to that
let me spend my nights in her bed
and my days, dreaming of the nights spent in her bed
that i must tarry in that blesséd task
for even a moment
is an outrage
how dare you interrupt this fondest recollection
kissing the cunt
of the most
woman woman
i have ever seen
or even dreamed
woman, oh woman
your kiss tells me
the impossible is real
your touch on my skin
tells me to feel
no past, no future
no doubt, no fear
paradise is not a garden
paradise is a rainforest by the sea
the night you were born
a blizzard blasted through calgary
now the light of your life
blasts through me
shatters thoughts
shatters words
you’re all i feel
you’re all i see —


sweet, sweet dream
you come
you come true
your love, i believe
i believe what i feel
only what i feel
words are dust
only love is real
no words
no power of words
to create worlds
only the power to create worlds
without words
flesh is the only voice
love is the only sound
love is the verb
that changes dust into words
take a handful of dust
throw it into the world
- 27 -
Weekly Poems
Wax Poetry and Art
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