The Lovers’ Chronicle 20 December – without – art by Ivana Kobilca

Dear Zazie,  Here is today’s Lovers’ Chronicle from Mac Tag dedicated to his muse.  Are you without the one you do not want to be without?

And how ’bout this, can you believe I am on my way to see you?! Ready or not, here I come.

“So, this is really going down huh?”
Yes!
“Is traffic bad?”
Off and on.
“Ok. Be careful. Come to me.”
Absolutely.
“Hey, I’m getting more and more nervous. I can’t wait to see you. Thank you for driving to me.”
I am close.
“I cannot breathe.”
to be continued…

 Rhett

The Lovers’ Chronicle – Pale Love, Pale Rider

Dear Muse,

layin’ here naked with,
words not necessary
now

lost in touch
hands movin’
across the curve
of your hip
yours movin’
over my arms

the only sound,
aside from passion,
the occasional
street traffic noise
from peachtree

feelin’ right

as we do,
parallel
only to
each other

© copyright 2020 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

ok y’all
this is really
happenin’
scared, nervous,
excited, feelin’
so fortunate
and amazed
after
so many years
and how many
words and miles
a respite
from without
comin’ into view

© copyright 2019 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

without

feelin’s persist
prevailin’ mood

once gained
soon lost

some sing, some sigh
some laugh, some weep
robbed of rest
nothin’ lulls

without

the voice
hear and obey
calm, my bluster
swells no more
the storm blows

without

blues pervade
lingerin’ thoughts

to the depths
She speaks
the words, written
forsaken

without

darkness
chains bind
let ’em come, let ’em
shadows
this awaits

without

fadin’
there must be
some kinda way
cannot be much longer

without you

© copyright 2018 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

she has what it takes
great eyes, nice smile,
wonderful laugh,
and pretty hands

but so conflicted
unsure, confused,
afraid, too stuck
in solitude,
too stubborn,
hell if i know

s’pose i will never
see her again

© copyright 2017 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

A rework of an original poem and a song.  The Dark Muse fought and won again as she usually does these days.  This topic is one of my favorites.  I have visited it before and probably will again, so if you do not like the song of the day just stay tuned.  There are many good songs on this topic and we might get to your favorite.  The Poem of the Day:

Without You, Reprise No. Three

Without you

feelin’s persist
persistent feelin’s

That which was once gained
That which was soon lost
Others sing, others sigh
Others laugh, others weep
Robbed of rest
Pain still lulls

Without you

Moods prevail
Prevailin’ moods

The voice; hear and obey
Sister to despair
Monarch of the lost
Come down; my bluster
Swells no more
The stormy rage blows

Without you

Gloom pervades
Pervadin’ gloom

To the depths
Down, She speaks
Her words; must record
All is forsaken

Without you

Despair lingers,
Lingerin’ despair,

Eternal Darkness
Eternal chains bind
To infinite pain
Let ’em come, Let ’em
Eternal Shadows
This is what awaits

Without you

Hope fadin’
Fadin’ hope

There must be some way
Some kinda way
To work this out
I just cannot
Be much longer
Without you, without you

© copyright 2012 mac Tag/Cowboy Coleridge all rights reserved

The Song of the Day is “Without You” by The Doobie Brothers. we do not own the rights to this song. no copyright infringement intended.

 

Ivana Kobilca
Ivana Kobilca - Avtoportret v belem.jpg

Self-portrait in White, around 1910

Today is the birthday of Ivana Kobilca (Ljubljana, Carniola, Austrian Empire 20 December 1861 – 4 December 1926 Ljubljana, Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes); painter and a key figure of Slovene cultural identity.  She was a realist painter who studied and worked in Vienna, Munich, Paris, Sarajevo, Berlin, and Ljubljana.  She mostly painted oil paintings and pastels.  She was a controversial person, criticised for following movements that did not developed further until later.

Gallery

20221220_185330

Summer, 1889

Kofetarica (1888)

Parizanka s pismom

Mac Tag

Because of that great nobleness of hers

The fire that stirs about her, when she stirs,

Burns but more clearlyW. B. Yeats

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