Dear Zazie, Hope you had a great 4th! My hometown survived, I think, the visit from me and Jett and Mac Tag. Our families helped settle that part of the West and it is always good to return. We saw some old friends and two-stepped and waltzed the night away at the dance. Me with a dark haired beauty, Jett with a blonde haired/blue eyed beauty and Mac Tag with a bottle of beer. Here is today’s Lovers’ Chronicle from Mac Tag to his muse. Visit us on twitter @cowboycoleridge. Rhett
The Lover’s Chronicle
Dear Muse,
© copyright 2020 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved
feel the brakes,
the overflow again
about life flarin’,
makes me dizzy
used to not know how to tell
livin’ in perpetual expectancy
so much in the searchin’
and then you remember
and turn away in tears
then you, and it all slips away
it finds you, when you need it
© copyright 2019 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved
when feelin’
was free and easy
and there was no need
to hide and pretend
or deny
when you were near
© copyright 2018 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved
When you were near to me
When I felt your excitement
When you made me feel dizzy
When I was with you
When time slipped away
As in a dream
When love found me
When I was not searchin’
When I had no need for tears
When you were with me
When the mornin’ rays
Shone in your hair
© Cowboy Coleridge mac tag copyright 2012 all rights reserved
Gallery
Today is the birthday of Jean Cocteau (Jean Maurice Eugène Clément Cocteau; Maisons-Laffitte 5 July 1889 – 11 October 1963 Milly-la-Foret); writer, designer, playwright, artist and filmmaker. Perhaps best known for his novel Les Enfants Terribles (1929), and the films Blood of a Poet (1930), Les Parents Terribles (1948), Beauty and the Beast (1946) and Orpheus (1949). His muse and lover for over 25 years was actor Jean Marais. Cocteau died of a heart attack at his chateau at the age of 74. His friend the French singer Édith Piaf died the day before but that was announced on the morning of Cocteau’s day of death; it has been said that his heart failed upon hearing of Piaf’s death. According to his wishes Cocteau is buried beneath the floor of the Chapelle Saint-Blaise des Simples in Milly-la-Forêt. The epitaph on his gravestone set in the floor of the chapel reads: “I stay with you” (“Je reste avec vous”).
Mettez un lieu commun en place, nettoyez-le, frottez-le, éclairez-le de telle sorte qu’il frappe avec sa jeunesse et avec la même fraîcheur, le même jet qu’il avait à sa source, vous ferez œuvre de poète. Tout le reste est littérature.
Écrire, pour moi, c’est dessiner, nouer les lignes de telle sorte qu’elles se fassent écriture, ou les dénouer de telle sort que l’écriture devienne dessin.
Âmes. Si cela était possible, j’aimerais ouvrir un institut de beauté pour les âmes Non que la mienne soit belle ni que je compte faire des miracles, mais afin que le client soigne sa ligne interne et s’y accroche quelle qu’elle soit
Mac Tag
I never feel the brakes. I overflow. And when I feel your excitement about life flaring, next to mine, then it makes me dizzy. Anais Nin
I don’t know how to tell you what I feel. I live in perpetual expectancy. You come & the time slips away in a dream. Anais Nin
You don’t find love, it finds you. It’s got a little bit to do with destiny, fate, and what’s written in the stars. Anais Nin
There is so much hurt in this game of searching for a mate. And you realize suddenly that you forgot it was a game, and turn away in tears. Sylvia Plath
…the morning rays
Shone many times among the glimmering flowers
Woven into her hair…
W.B. Yeats
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