The Lover’s Almanac 17 September – Passin’ – Blue-Eyed and Broken Hearted – verse by Smollett, Augier & WC Williams

Dear Zazie,  Here is today’s Lover’s Almanac from Mac Tag dedicated to his muse.  Have you reached for love and come away with thorns?  Whether you have brown eyes, green eyes or blue eyes, are you broken hearted?  Rhett

The Lover’s Almanac

Dear Muse,

mactag passinyou sleep
stretched out
on our bed
the windows are open
& the mountain breeze
rustles gently through
candles burn
in every nook & corner

with a few gentle taps
you wake surprised
curious to catch
your first impression
I call your name

you start up,
look through me
and around,
& hang your head
a look of sadness
passes in your eyes
a sinkin’ of the heart

© copyright 2017 mac tag/cowboy Coleridge all rights reserved

The Blue-Eyed Girl

Sometimes it is alright to be wrong,
Sometimes it is okay to just let it go

They like to gossip

About her, often,

But they do not know her
No one knows her truth

Sometimes, she gets caught

Up in their rumours

But she refuses

To follow their rules

She tries to laugh about it

But she cannot help feelin’

Like they are stealin’ somethin’
Away from her in pieces
She does not need anyone
To tell her right from wrong
She wants to sing her own song

From now on, she walks alone
Needin’ no one’s permission
She has learned that happiness
Lies in followin’ her own song

For what it is worth;
The Blue-Eyed Man
Feels the pain
Of the Blue-Eyed Girl

© copyright 2012 mac tag/cowboy Coleridge all rights reserved

Today we have a story of love found and lost from my friend Jett.

Jett received the followin’ letter from his friend Adele, who also happens to be a friend of Zazie:

Ok! I did it!  Call it lust, love or the meeting of two sole mates.  On Saturday night, I went out with a guy I used to work with.  We drink a box of wine and end up on the roof.  We just talk most all night and yes he gave me a kiss.  Tuesday he left his wife (it was a dead situation anyway), last night he moved in!  Wow!  Did you expect that from me?   I cannot explain what happened other than we are both crazy about each other.  We just reconnected and decided we had suppressed the feelings we had for long enough.  I equate this whole thing to two people jumping out of an airplane.  We don’t yet know if we will land on our feet or our face!  Right now all we can do is enjoy the ride.  Jett I have been so lonely for so long just to be held again is well worth the insanity of it.  The only part that stresses me is the fact that either one of us could crush the others heart.  He has made major external moves and I have made equal internal moves.  Just last week I could not imagine sharing my closet with anyone.  Tonight I pick up boxes to pack up half my closet.  For some weird reason I am not afraid.  What do you think….. If you really felt that you found your soul mate would you jump in or hang on at a distance to be sure?

Jett told her he agreed with their leap of faith.  Life is too short and you will never get a rose unless you reach for it.  Yes, you may end up with a handful of thorns, but the reward is worth the risk.  Protect yourself as best you can and when you fancy, take some fancy chances.

Then Adele texts Zazie with a picture update on her romance or rather the apparent end of it.  Click here to see the picture.  In part it says; “You lied to me.  You said you loved me.  I trusted you.  I was fine before you came.  I’m broken hearted.  I cried.”  Jett wishes he could reach out and hug Adele and he wishes he could stomp a mud hole in this guy, which trust me, he could.

For the Poem of the Day, Jett suggested, “Blue-Eyed Ann” by the Scottish poet Tobias Smollett, who died on this day in 1771 in Livorno, Italy.  This goes out to Adele from Jett.

Blue-Eyed Ann

When the rough North forgets to howl,
And Ocean’s billows cease to roll;
When Libyan sands are bound in frost,
And cold to Nova Zembla’s lost!
When heavenly bodies cease to move,
My blue-eyed Ann I’ll cease to love.

No more shall flowers the meads adorn;
Nor sweetness deck the rosy thorn;
Nor swelling buds proclaim the spring;
Nor parching heats the dogstar bring;
Nor laughing lilies paint the grove,
When blue-eyed Ann I cease to love.

No more shall joy in hope be found;
Nor pleasures dance their frolic round;
Nor Love’s light god inhabit earth;
Nor beauty give to passion birth;
Nor heat to summer sunshine cleave,
When blue-eyed Annie I deceive.

When rolling seasons cease to change,
Inconstancy forgets to range;
When lavish May no more shall bloom,
Nor gardens yield a rich perfume;
When Nature from her sphere shall start,
I’ll tear my Annie from my heart.

The Song of the Day is “Blue Eyed Girl” by Ida Jensush.  Again, this goes out to Adele from Jett.

Émile Augier
Émile Augier by Adam-Salomon c1870s.jpg

Augier by Antoine Samuel Adam-Salomon, circa 1870s

Today is the birthday of Guillaume Victor Émile Augier (Valence, Drôme; 17 September 1820 – 25 October 1889 Croissy-sur-Seine); French dramatist.


L’Aventurière (1848)

  • L’amour chez les vieillards a d’étranges racines,
    Et trouve, comme un lierre aux fentes des ruines,
    Dans ces cœurs ravagés par le temps et les maux,
    Cent brèches où pousser ses tenaces rameaux.

    • Act I., Scene V. (translation by Fabrice).
    • From strangest roots love in old men doth grow;
      Like ivy on a ruin it doth show,
      And in these hearts laid waste by grief and time,
      By myriad clefts its clinging branches climb.
William Carlos Williams
William Carlos Williams passport photograph 1921.jpg

William Carlos Williams passport photograph,1921

Today is the birthday of William Carlos Williams (Rutherford, New Jersey; September 17, 1883 – March 4, 1963 Rutherford); poet closely associated with modernism and imagism.  He is among the group of four major American poets born in the twelve-year period following 1874, including Robert Frost, born in 1874; Wallace Stevens, born in 1879; and H.D. (Hilda Doolittle), born in 1886.  His work has an affinity with painting, in which he had a lifelong interest.

In addition to his writing, Williams had a long career as a physician practicing both pediatrics and general medicine.  He was affiliated with what was then known as Passaic General Hospital in Passaic, New Jersey, where he served as the hospital’s chief of pediatrics from 1924 until his death.  The hospital, which is now known as St. Mary’s General Hospital, paid tribute to Williams with a memorial plaque that states “we walk the wards that Williams walked”.


Marriage (1916)

  • So different, this man
    And this woman:
    A stream flowing
    In a field.

    • Poetry Chicago, 1916)

Al Que Quiere! (1917)

  • The earth cracks and
    is shriveled up;
    the wind moans piteously;
    the sky goes out
    if you should fail.

    • “Chicory and Daisies”
  • Why do I write today?
  • The beauty of
    the terrible faces
    of our nonentities
    stirs me to it
  • “Apology”
  • I lie here thinking of you:—the stain of love
    is upon the world!

    • “Love Song”
  • It’s a strange courage
    you give me ancient star:
  • Shine alone in the sunrise
    toward which you lend no part!

    • “El Hombre”
  • Brother!
    — if we were rich
    we’d stick our chests out
    and hold our heads high!
  • It is dreams that have destroyed us.There is no more pride
    in horses or in rein holding.
    We sit hunched together brooding
    our fate.Well —
    all things turn bitter in the end
    whether you choose the right or
    the left way
    and —
    dreams are not a bad thing.

    • “Libertad! Igualidad! Fraternidad!”
  • Who shall say I am not
    the happy genius of my household?

    • “Danse Russe”

Sour Grapes (1921)

  • Among the rain
    and lights
    I saw the figure 5
    in gold
    on a red
    to gong clangs
    siren howls
    and wheels rumbling
    through the dark city.

    • “The Great Figure”
  • Old age is
    a flight of small
    cheeping birds
    bare trees
    above a snow glaze.
    Gaining and failing
    they are buffeted
    by a dark wind —
    But what?
    On harsh weedstalks
    the flock has rested —
    the snow
    is covered
    with broken
    seed husks
    and the wind tempered
    with a shrill
    piping of plenty.

    • “To Awaken an Old Lady”, originally publised in The Dial (August 1920)

Collected Poems 1921-1931 (1934)

  • “He’s come out of the man
    and he’s let
    the man go —
the liar
his eyes
rolled up out of
the light — a mockery

love cannot touch —just bury it
and hide its face
for shame.

  • “Death”

An Early Martyr and Other Poems (1935)

  • Among

    • “The Locust Tree in Flower”

Complete Collected Poems (1938)

  • These
  • are the desolate, dark weeks
    when nature in its barrenness
    equals the stupidity of man.The year plunges into night
    and the heart plunges
    lower than night

    • “These”

Collected Later Poems (1950)

  • Not now. Love itself a flower
    with roots in a parched ground.

    Empty pockets make empty heads.
    Cure it if you can but
    do not believe that we can live
    today in the country
    for the country will bring us
    no peace.

    • “Raleigh Was Right” (1940)

The Desert Music and Other Poems (1954)

  • I think
    of the poetry
    of René Char
    and all he must have seen
    and suffered
    that has brought him
    to speak only of
    sedgy rivers,
    of daffodils and tulips
    whose roots they water
    even to the free-flowing river
    that laves the rootlets
    of those sweet-scented flowers
    that people the

    • “To a Dog Injured in the Street”
  • The cries of a dying dog
    are to be blotted out
    as best I can.
    René Char
    you are a poet who believes
    in the power of beauty
    to right all wrongs.
    I believe it also.
    With invention and courage
    we shall surpass
    the pitiful dumb beasts,
    let all men believe it,
    as you have taught me also
    to believe it.

    • “To a Dog Injured in the Street”

Journey to Love (1955)

Asphodel, That Greeny Flower

  • Of asphodel, that greeny flower,
like a buttercup

upon its branching stem —
save that’s green and wooden —

I come, my sweet,

to sing to you.
We lived long together,

a life filled,

if you will,
with flowers. So that

I was cheered

when I first came to know
that there were flowers also

in hell.

I’m filled with the fading memory of those flowers

that we both loved,

even to this poor
colorless thing —

I saw it

when I was a child —
little prized among the living

but the dead see,

asking among themselves:
What do I remember

that was shaped

as this thing is shaped?
while our eyes fill

with tears.

Of love, abiding love
it will be telling

though too weak a wash of crimson

colors it
to make it wholly credible.

There is something

something urgent
I have to say to you

and you alone

but it must wait
while I drink in

the joy of your approach,

perhaps for the last time.
And so

with fear in my heart

I drag it out
and keep on talking

for I dare not stop.
  • Only give me time,
time to recall them

before I shall speak out.
Give me time,

When I was a boy

I kept a book

to which, from time
to time,

I added pressed flowers

until, after a time,
I had a good collection.

The asphodel,

among them.

I bring you,

a memory of those flowers.

They were sweet

when I pressed them
and retained

something of their sweetness

a long time.
It is a curious odor,

a moral odor,

that brings me
near to you.
  • Endless wealth,
I thought,

held out its arms to me.
A thousand tropics

in an apple blossom.

The generous earth itself
gave us lief.

The whole world

became my garden!
But the sea

which no one tends

is also a garden
when the sun strikes it

and the waves

are wakened.
I have seen it

and so have you

when it puts all flowers
to shame.
  • I cannot say
that I have gone to hell

for your love
but often

found myself there

in your pursuit.
I do not like it

and wanted to be

in heaven. Hear me out.
Do not turn away.
I have learned much in my life

from books

and out of them
about love.


is not the end of it.
  • The storm unfolds.

plays about the edges of the clouds.
The sky to the north

is placid,

blue in the afterglow
as the storm piles up.

It is a flower

that will soon reach
the apex of its bloom.
  • When I speak
of flowers

it is to recall

that at one time
we were young.

All women are not Helen,

I know that,
but have Helen in their hearts.

My sweet,

you have it also, therefore
I love you

and could not love you otherwise.
  • The storm bursts
or fades! it is not
the end of the world.

Love is something else,

or so I thought it,
a garden which expands,

though I knew you as a woman

and never thought otherwise,
until the whole sea

has been taken up

and all its gardens.
It was the love of love,

the love that swallows up all else,

a grateful love,
a love of nature, of people,

of animals,

a love engendering
gentleness and goodness

that moved me

and that I saw in you.


  • I come, my sweet,
to sing to you!
My heart rouses

thinking to bring you news

of something
that concerns you

and concerns many men. Look at

what passes for the new.
You will not find it there but in

despised poems.
  •     It is difficult
    to get the news from poems
yet men die miserably every day

for lack
of what is found there.
Hank Williams
Hank Williams Promotional Photo.jpg

Williams in 1951










Today is the birthday of Hiram KingHankWilliams, (Mount Olive, Alabama; September 17, 1923 – January 1, 1953 Oak Hill, West Virginia); American singer-songwriter and musician.  In my opinion, one of the most significant and influential American singers and songwriters of the 20th century, Williams recorded 35 singles (five released posthumously) that reached the Top 10 of the Billboard Country & Western Best Sellers chart, including 11 that ranked number one (three posthumously).  Among the hits he wrote were “Your Cheatin’ Heart”, “Hey, Good Lookin'”, “Jambalaya (On the Bayou)” and “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry”.

On December 15, 1944, Williams married Audrey Sheppard.  It was her second marriage and his first.  Their son, Randall Hank Williams, who would achieve fame in his own right as Hank Williams, Jr., was born on May 26, 1949.  The marriage, always turbulent, rapidly disintegrated.  The couple divorced on May 29, 1952.

A relationship with a woman named Bobbie Jett resulted in a daughter, Jett Williams, who was born five days after Williams’ death.

On October 18, 1952, Williams and Billie Jean Jones Eshlimar were married in Minden, Louisiana by a justice of the peace.  It was the second marriage for both (both being divorced with children).  After Williams’ death, a judge ruled that the wedding was not legal because Jones Eshlimar’s divorce had not become final until eleven days after she married Williams.  Williams’ first wife, Audrey, and his mother, Lillie Williams, were the driving forces behind having the marriage declared invalid and pursued the matter for years.

Several years of back pain, alcoholism, and prescription drug abuse severely damaged Williams’ health.  Williams died at the age of 29, from heart failure exacerbated by pills and alcohol.  Despite his short life, Williams has had a major influence on 20th-century popular music, especially country music.  The songs he wrote and recorded have been covered by numerous artists and have been hits in various genres.  He has been inducted into multiple music halls of fame, such as the Country Music Hall of Fame (1961), the Songwriters Hall of Fame (1970), and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (1987).


  • You wore out a brand new trunk,
    packin’ and unpackin your junk.

    • “You’re gonna change (or I’m gonna leave)” (1949)
  • No matter how I struggle and strive,
    I’ll never get out of this world alive.

    • “I’ll Never Get Out Of This World Alive” (1952)
  • We’ll put aside a little time to fix a flat or 2,
    my tires and tubes are doing fine but the air is showing through

    • “Settin’ the Woods on Fire” (1952)

Mac Tag

It is difficult to get the news from poems, yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there. – Simone de Beauvoir

I am in love, hence free to live by heart, to ad lib as I caress.Vera Pavlova

We are blind and live our blind lives out in blindness. Poets are damned but they are not blind, they see with the eyes of angels. – William Carlos Williams

Share This Post

Trackback URL

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

One Comment on "The Lover’s Almanac 17 September – Passin’ – Blue-Eyed and Broken Hearted – verse by Smollett, Augier & WC Williams"

  1. Jacqueline Barbour
    17/09/2016 at 9:43 pm Permalink

    Love this one. The thought of an friend who looks deeper

Hi Stranger, leave a comment:


<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

Subscribe to Comments