Les Cailloux

Si  j'avais un chemin que je pourrais traverser silenceusement
la ou tu reves et respires, je mettrais des souliers blancs et legers.

Je mettrais un chapeuau rouge et des gants de laine, un manteau nouveau
et je me mettrais en route avec ma valise pleine de papillons et oiseaux joyeux.

Si j'arriverais a temps pour voir la lumiere dans ta maison
je me mettrais a trouver des petits cailloux lis et discrets.

Comme une enfant desesperee et devenue impatiente, je jettrais
mes petits cailloux dans ma poche dechiree vers ta fenetre.

Une petite musique d'un ritme insistent danserait son retour
dans l'herbe muette et ma main bavarde.

Et peut - etre, la musique des petits cailloux impertinents
te reveilles, et ton sourire m'invite de laisser dehors mon jeu
avec les etoiles et les illusions de la nuit, et tu me pardonnes
mes soucis et mes questions et je sais que tu vas bien.


Trudi Ralston.
November 30th, 2015.
Pour D. O. 

Gathering Flowers

When I turned 18, my parents commissioned a painting for me by the local Gent area artist Raoul Vanden Heede. I chose a gypsy as the subject and it turned out to be as much a self portrait as it was wishful thinking about a group of people I always felt very drawn to. I left Belgium at age 19, and have felt like an outsider, much like a gypsy, in many ways, socially, culturally, intellectually and linguistically. Two nights ago I had a dream that Raoul, who is deceased now, and who was a close friend of my parents for many years, was bringing me flowers, simple flowers of the field. He told me to not get discouraged, to keep writing, to keep making my tapestries. His plea was very emotional and left an impression on me that lasted into the waking hours of the next days. While Raoul was talking to me, bringing me several bouquets of field flowers, I noticed there was a huge tree, towering at at least 50 feet, with many strong branches and roots, but bare of leaves. My husband walked up to it and started planting the flowers Raoul Vanden Heede was bringing me. That was interesting enough, but what was unsettling was that the huge tree was missing a big chunk out of its left side, like someone had taken a very large chainsaw and removed a sizable chunk that gave the  mighty looking giant a hurt and diminished look. My husband seemed undaunted by the enormous scar on the tree, and I remember staring at him and the flowers he was planting and the hurt tree, puzzled, concerned. I woke up not being able to shake the image, wondering how it connected to Raoul's admonition not to give up. I felt like the dream was giving me a glimpse of something I was supposed to understand, but so far its meaning eludes me... I do believe the dream was telling me that my quiet husband is supportive of my efforts, and that the presence of a now deceased artist friend from many years ago, who had to struggle to establish respect and success as an artist, is a hopeful sign. Perhaps the scarred tree is a symbol for the tree of life, my life, that has wounds in, that are significant, but not big enough to keep the tree from surviving, albeit it with some difficulty. My husband planting the flowers Raoul gave me is a sign I think that all beauty is worth preserving, that my efforts should be continued even though it may seem I am going it alone. I am not, says the dream, your husband is right there by your side. It may take time to understand all the dream has to offer, but what it does give up so far is loving and hopeful.

Way Down in the Hole

Recently I dealt with the death of a long time neighbour only a few years older than myself. She had been ill for a number of years and even though her death was not unexpected when it happened , it still threw me for a loop and brought back the untimely deaths of both my younger sisters. I had a hard time concentrating on my art or on my writing, when I came across the superb HBO TV series that ran from 2002 to 2008, "The Wire", a crime drama set in the city of Baltimore. This series grabs you like a Charles Dickens' novel, the way it is so richly complex in both characters and storyline. The violence and heartbreaking poverty and misery it chronicles seen through the eyes of both the criminals and the police made me take notice. It is hard to believe that kind of abject poverty exists in a number of cities in what is considered the wealthiest nation on earth. Apparently, " with freedom and justice for all " is taken with a lot of liberties. What is encouraging about the show is its focus on the humanity of both the offenders and the victims, on the hope that with relentless effort, kindness can make a dent in the face of staggering challenges against corruption, despair and poverty. Parents who neglect and abuse their children, because they themselves are stuck in a cycle of hopelessness and isolation, passing the cycle of resulting violence and dead end lives to their children. One adult character stands out, "Bubbles ", played with Shakespearean dignity and intelligence by Andre Royo. Every time he is close to breaking his addiction and loneliness, another tragedy sets him back, but he never loses his human dignity or heart. The drug lords are hard, cold beyond what one would think acceptable in a civilized country, the children working for the drug gangsters break your heart. They never had a chance at innocence or dreams. The teachers working in the broken and broke inner city schoolsystems try with Sisyphus like courage to roll the boulder of futility back up the hill of glimmers of hope and chance,while the politicians both crooked and straight, try not to get stuck in either the quagmire of their corruption, or the odds of decency winning the game. Watching this series, it really feels like you are in the company of masters of the genre. All the actors are superb, just like in a well written novel. Dominic West, Idris Elba, Sonja Sohn, Wendell Pierce, Lance Reddick, Clarke Peters, John Doman, Deidre Lovejoy, Seth Gilliam, Dominick Lombardozzi, Jim True - Frost, Michael K. Williams, J D Williams, Chad L. Coleman, Robert Wisdom, Aidan Gillen, Tristan Wilds, Jamie Hector, Chris Partlow, Felicia Pearson, Robert F. Chew, Wood Harris, Larry Gilliard Jr. , Chris Bauer, Pablo Schreiber, James Ransone, Paul Ben Victor, Tristan Wilds, Maestro Harrell, ... an impressive list that gives justice to the novel like depth and scope of the series. The writing is nothing short of brilliant in the hands of David Simon and Ed Burns, and there too, the additional list is extensive : David Mills, Richard Price, Dennis Lehane, George Pelecanos, William F. Zorzi, and  Chris Collins. I mention them all, because the baroque like richness of the story and characters deserves mention of every writer involved. The theme song written by Tom Waits is very appropriate for the Dickensian struggle between the poor and the well to do criminals and politicians who perpetuate the misery. "When you walk through the garden You gotta watch your back... Well, I beg your pardon Walk the straight and narrow path If you walk with Jesus He's gonna save your soul You gotta keep the devil Way down in the hole ... He's got the fire and the fury At his command Well, you don't have to worry If you hold on to Jesus' hand We'll all be safe from Satan When the thunder rolls We just gotta help me keep the devil Way down in the hole...  All the angels sing  About Jesus' mighty sword And they'll shield you with their wings And keep you close to the lord Don't pay heed to temptation For his hands are so cold You gotta help me keep the devil way down in the hole... Down in the hole, down in the hole Down in the hole, down in the hole Down in the hole,down in the hole You gotta help me keep the devil Down in the hole"... The song is worth writing out in its entirety because it speaks to the crux of the dilemma in the series, the timeless battle to keep the evil men do at bay. TV has gotten a lot of bad publicity over the course of the years, but this series is definitely a shining star in that often beleaguered firmament. " The Wire " is a melancholic yet simultaneously upbeat testament to the efforts of man from way back at the dawn of his appearance on this planet to make life's struggles worthwhile in spite of his conflicted nature and instincts. In this case, it is the highly lucrative drug trade in the inner city districts of Baltimore. Watching the series is a Dantesque like descent into the hell the dope trade perpetuates, its deadly grip on both the sellers and the users, give or take a few years in favour of the first; the destruction of its young users' future, bleak as it already is because of the suffocating poverty it targets. The acting done by the teenage actors and young children is first rate, their ability to convey the despair and bitterness of the cycle of poverty, addiction and violence is truly moving. The series speaks to our conscience and leaves an imprint that makes us question the moral fabric of our big cities, and how they in turn reflect on a culture of greed and calculated self importance. " The Wire " is like touching and looking carefully at a very complex and intriguing piece of art that surely will stand the test of time. 

L' Accueil

Comme est belle l'impatience quand on espere revoir un ami.
Je me l'imagine souriant et fier, fatigue du voyage, mais content.
Il marche vers moi, et j' anticipe son embrasse comme une enfant heureuse,
les gens autour de moi n'existent plus, ni le bruit des machines brillants sur le tarmac.

Bonjour, bonjour! Laisse moi te regarder, tu as l'air vraiement bien!
Tu as faim, je connais un bistro sympat pas trop loin.
Il y un bon hotel pres de la maison, ou tu seras confortable, tu verras.
Il fait froid, je sais, mais on promet du soleil demain.

Je sais que tu n'est pas vraiement la avec moi,
que je reve encore une illusion belle et ephimere,
comme les nuages bleus dans le ciel blanc ce matin,
comme la chanson joyeuse dans ma tete aussi.

Cela n'es pas evident, ces trucs du temps que la vie m'envoie.
Ce train que j'attends sur ce chemin ombreux est bien en retard,
et voila, il part encore et je devrai retourner mon billet une derniere fois.
Ah, mais tu sais, ce n'est pas bien grave, je comprends tres bien.
Bon voyage, peut -etre dans une autre vie on se retrouvera.


Trudi Ralston.
November 23th, 2015.
Pour D. O.
Il y a des moments ou les illusions sont gentilles
quand la vie trouble ses intentions. 

Le Couteau Doux

Le silence danse dans l'herbe de mes pensees,
trampees du ritme sonore des arbres sifflants
avec le vent qui traverse le couloir de mon espoir.

La musique de mon coeur se rappelle un moment bref
ou la joie de te connaitre etait grand comme un ciel bleu,
blanc comme ses nuages et etoiles brilliantes.

Le temps passe, faisant ses circles de fantome,
et tu restes loin, tres loin quoique la chaleur
de ton haleine me suit dans les ombres de mes heures.

Comme un couteau doux, la blessure me reste et la gene
de ne pouvoir couvrir le rouge qui me suit dans mes reves.
C'est tout ce qui me reste, ce couteau sauvage qui se cache a peine.

Doux comme un soupire, doux comme un sourire,
tu restes cache derriere les coulisses de mon theatre,
le couteau lis, pret, chantant le refrain qui applaudit
ma voix et mon courage.  


Trudi Ralston.
November 11th, 2015.
Pour D. O. 

Do Not Linger

Do not linger by the edge of the forest
of your mind.
Do not stare into the abyss of its gnarled trees and dark paths.
You might forget the sun above if you do, and the birds singing
by your side.

Do not watch the shadows gathering by that forest at night.
Resist the smell of past sorrows and regrets as you
teeter by its sickening call.
Do not try to remember all that happened to you there,
or might happen still if you but heed its whispers.

The monsters in that forest were there long before you
and will be there yet when you are but a memory of
a melancholic tune buried where you cannot hear.
Do not linger where past tears might drown your path
you still need to explore.

There are no answers to be found, no healing to occur,
no redemption brought to you who search so desperately.
Do not linger by the edge of the forest of your mind.
Turn around, walk away, with measured confidence
and pride. You have done all you can if you made it this far.

Do not linger, lest the nightmares there show up in your days
and no amount of vigilance keeps the ghosts where they should stay.
Sing out loud, bow and arrow close at hand, to track and kill
the screams hiding where your feet were almost touching ground.
Laugh out loud, then run, run, and leave the past and its ghouls behind.

Trudi Ralston.
November 9th, 2015.

Blue Bird, Blue Bird

Blue bird, blue bird, won't you come back for me?
My friend is someplace I am not so sure of.
He let me know he needs my prayer and thoughts,
but I do not know where that place might be.

You know his heart, you know where he is,
you know where he might be for now, or where
he might be going later on.
So, come to me, tell me how he is.

I heard you sing this morning a song I had not heard before.
Come here, blue bird, rest a while, and talk to me,
and take me with you, at least for a spell,
so I can know you will be there for him.

Blue bird, blue bird, don't leave me here alone.
But if you must go, promise me when it is my turn
to travel where I do not have previous steps or flight,
that you will come for me, so that when I get to
where my friend may have to travel now,
I can find him by your song that will guide me there.

Blue bird, blue bird, why must you go?
I will miss your sweet song, your bright wings
by my side, by my mornings and nights.

But if you must go, promise me, promise me,
you will come and find me and take me to him,
so that I will know he will always be alright
with you by his side.

Trudi Ralston.
November 4th, 2015.
for D. O. 
In mythology, the blue bird is a symbol of happiness.
That is what I wish for my friend, beyond all barriers,
all limitations of space and time.
The poem is meant to be sung, as it came to me that way.  

Cause there's a million things to be : Reflections on Cat Stevens' brave call for happiness

The other day the TV series "Ray Donovan" had an episode end with him singing the Cat Stevens song , " If You Want To Sing Out, Sing Out" to his teenage daughter who was stressed out and remembered him singing the song to her as a little girl. It was a touching moment, but I forgot about it until this morning. I had a dream last night in which my son was a baby still, and we lived in this house with hundreds of aquariums filled with tropical fish of all sizes, from ridiculously small to eerily large, and of all colours. In the dream, the water levels in a number of the tanks was getting dangerously low, so I was busy adding more water to them. I was holding my son the whole time, who got a particular kick out of one small aquarium that held very brightly turquoise and lavender colored small fish who were getting very anxious about the low water level. One jumped out, and my son and I were busy getting it back into the tank, him laughing heartily the whole time. It was a busy and colorful dream, and it was interesting to me that this morning the Cat Stevens song came back to my mind. "Well, if you want to sing out, sing out. And if you want to be free, be free. Cause there's a million things to be. You know that there are... And if you want to live high , live high. And if you want to live low, live low. Cause there's a million ways to go. You know that there are... " The memory of the lyrics sung by the father and his distraught daughter touched a deep core in me, one that made me temporarily feel very melancholic. My son is 23 now, and perhaps the dream of me holding him as a baby, laughing with him, as we were dealing with the stressful situation of adding water to the scared fish in so many of the tanks, was a hope that as a mother I had been doing a good job, and wanted to keep being there for him. A wish for him to be able to fulfill his dreams and his talents, as an artist and a budding writer. " You can do what you want. The opportunity is on. And if you can find a new way. You can do it today. You can make it all true. And you can make it undo..." The chorus repeats with a new challenge : " Well, if you want to say yes, say yes. And if you want to say no, say no. Cause there's a million ways to go. You know that there are..." The song ends appropriately with the chorus repeating one more time about singing and being free : " Well, if you want to sing out, sing out. And if you want to be free, be free. Cause there's a million things to be. You know that there are... " It is a simple song on the surface, with a straightforward, catchy refrain, but it speaks of a determination and wisdom we all want to have when it comes to life and its challenges that can get in our way, and we all want our children to have the energy and resolve to face life's challenges with optimism and courage and confidence. I will share this song with my son, and what I  saw in it, as far as my wishes for him are concerned. He may be 23 now, but I think it will make his sensitive, creative heart feel good this song made me think of his efforts to make his way in this world. I will share the dream too, it is nice to hear as a child that your parent can be emotional and a bit confused too, about their abilities and effectiveness when raising a child. Now that I wrote about the dream and the emotions the song brought up, somehow the melancholy shifted to the upbeat intention of the song, and it is now playing in my head as a happy admonition, full of kindness and grace.