Bovine Squeals (day 2815)

As molten streets
Circumnavigated
Each island:
Utopia,
Madness circled
Each callused leader
Shaking fists
With Sir Devil.
Groans and
Bovine squeals
Inspired construction workers
To a fury,
That led each
Minister
To a foghorn;
Cattle afraid
On auction day.
Without much notice
Neither alarm
Necks were bled and drained
Swept away
Into a drain
Flushed away with rain.
And then began
– Recycled plan
Nothing new,
No change, all the same
Nothing to excite
Not a note to cause alarm –
Monotony
So deafening
Each victim
Just ceased
In plain.

Sunrise (day 2688)

When we last spoke, dear
I had my heart out for you
Ragged and drawn
I woke at the dawn
To pull at your time
Like heartstrings I heard
With a rumbling band
Deep in my heart
I kept moving on
With letters of you
With nervous fetters
Pulling me down
Till I lay at bed
Each song I’d wrote
With you on my mind
Nervous and pale
And lost on a boat
My anchor too heavy
To pull up myself
And you on my mind
On an island in time
In love with you
But you have your tune
A subtle implore
With sunrise today
And I’m trying my best.

Moonlit Spell (day 2563)

I came into the firelight when
The moon hollered my name
Whispered into my ear
Little memories I’d long forgotten
Spoke of a journey through the mist
Of a far off island adventure
A dog for a companion
Who chased away the ghosts.

There were streets of cobblestones
In an old quarter of an ancient town
Where whispers followed me,
I watched ghosts in their wagons go
And sat motionless in firelight
Dancing to and fro
Lost in reverie
Sunken into moonlight’s deepest spell.

White Blues (day 1921)

It was late, early as the birds wake. The sun making it’s trajectory project through blind slits that tickled my nose and ruffled pure white sheets that smelled of everything I had ever dreamed. I wished I had worn my own button up so she could wear it, cotton thoughts underneath the purest thoughts I could believe, her ear lobe dangerously close to my sanity I buried deep into the sleepy eyes she wiped away.

She was business and I was coffee on Sunday morning. Her ancient wooden bowls with carved and stained mosaics sat on bare shelves between three curiously new vinyl records I had yet to identify or spin, so my bare feet sadly ripped spaces beside this cocoon to leave invisible heat scores on a treasure hunt around pieces of clothing that each had still alive memories attached, each a little puddle of our reserve that began as we stepped towards our island.

As the needle scratched dangerously towards the first note, it was the crackling that trumped even her cigarette into casual, I spotted her pinstripe skirt, now draped across the wicker chair underneath a baby blue Fender Telecaster she had plugged into a tiny hand held amplifier to show me what she knew of blues.

I propped myself up with her pillow and through the patio window I saw she was looking at me.

photograph courtesy of model / Lisa // photography / Jen Hill
photograph courtesy of model / Lisa // photography / Jen Hill

Island in the Sun (day 1436)

Dear George,

It’s been a while since we last talked,
For that I am sorry,
I hope you do not wait impatiently for my letters…
Like I do.

Baldwin Beach - Maui

I have been off to the tropics,
A tiny little island in the middle of the sea
Where geckos climb banana trees
And the end of rainbows are within walking distance.
I swam in the ocean here,
Swam with sea turtles as large as sheep
And walked most places without shoes or sandals on.

I think you would have appreciated our diets,
We were mostly eating local vegetarian cuisines
And I learned how to make kichari and nutmilks.
Some of the people I was staying with
Indulged in bliss balls,
And yes, the name alludes to the taste of these heavenly things.
With the leftover bits I’ve strained out of the nutmilks
I’ve begun to make at home now,
I plan on making some bliss balls of my own,
For snacking.

It’s been an interesting journey for me trying to reintegrate into society.
I’ve been taking it slow,
Going for multiple bike rides – which I love so much – every day.
Along the ocean here and through my favorite parts of town.
I’m doing lots of writing,
Which you also know I love to do so much.

I’ve just finished a book entitled Okham’s Razor
That was comparing the contrasting views of reality
Between the Middle Ages all the way up to the present day.
Along with the learning I did at the yoga immersion
On the tropical island in the sun,
I’ve begun to really get clear questions
I’m searching for.
I’m excited to remember everything,
And grow with everything at the same time.

Love is good, food is good, life is good.
I hope yours is too.

Hope to talk soon,
Sincerely,

Joshua Radlin

Remain Calm (day 1333)

In the end of all of it I had a reason.
There were two dots crossed off a long list of imaginations
And the cowboy had everything left to lose should it fail.

But that wasn’t the event there that day, you see,
A long riflesman came staggering in as the town watched
Thinking to themselves about a memory they all-to-quickly refused to listen to.

I couldn’t help but think that I was an envelope,
A whisper sealed away awaiting some sort of lucky ticket holder.
My eyes remained calm as time’s length pushed on.

Crimson was the colour of noon’s high sun.
Picking pockets like a Bazaar thief in Catholic quarters;
The city clinched tighter.

There once was an island inside of my dreams,
Floating with unseen amounts of impossibilities.
I was homesick. I wasn’t allowed to be there anymore.

So for now they sang, in cool shade of a willow tree.
And a stable meant for their local butcher
Fed the gatherers, who all at once came.

Dust kicked up my hallow heart’s worms and sheered into the edge;
At once I was offered fine takings
And imagined I was an elder.

Gray and White Breaks (day 1283)

Can you follow me upon a speeding star
Along wild roads where wind’s through our hair?

I’ve never been out past the seasons mild rain
To be seen once again by the woman with no name.

Long walks together carry a rhythmic harmony
That pulls and begs and lifts love, my name.

Like long winded breaks I’ve fallen over you
Where tomorrows forever will champion my heart.

Hurtling and spitting with venemous fury
Gray and white breaks shall be my amorous flurry.

Should ever your fancy be found to be unstrung,
Let my guiding thunder be the reason you run.

And all over islands, heated by warm sun
Shall be our own quarters, to dine in gay coitus.

Eternity (day 607)

I’ve fallen into a pool of bliss
One that reaches up
And smothers my every thought
With kindness and feeling

I’ve been taken away to an oasis
On an island of ten thousand floating orchids
Where sun hazes each thought into a dance
With graceful arms that arch and moan

I’ve lifted my head up to the sky
Seen the clouds dance before my eyes
And smiled at them
Allowing them to feel my gracious delight