Dear Zazie,
Here is today’s Lovers’ Chronicle from Mac Tag.
Rhett
The Lovers’ Chronicle
Dear Muse,
this one had to be from somethin’
i was readin’, though that is lost
“I can see the drama pulling you in”
and today is a perfecto,
no not the cigar kind
“Ah, that was my first guess”
ha! hold on, i consider june 2017
to be the beginnin’ of my verse
so on this day, i have written
a poem every year from
2018 through 2023
“Nice job bébé”
and since 2021,
three years in a row
castin’ verse for you
© copyright 2020 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved
endure as best as can
at once precious yet
unendurable
this self-imposed trial
overwhelms and controls
laugh, cry,
pleasure, grief
wane, endure
such are the inconstancies
of holdin’ what cannot be held
when felt most intense
all but certain
and the hour arrives
begin again
long-felt vain dreams
accustomed to run
endless beyond…
can it ever root again
if it arched the curve of its back
if it thrust as deep as before
allow falterin’ voice
to breathe
while hands touch
tender, to wake
no thought affords
but one remembered
vision together
there is no hidin’
were there yet tears
ask not, whate’er state,
voice lost, hand unsteady
when feelin’s nor can express
that which was known
come, cast thy shadow o’er
© copyright 2019 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved
choose an idea,
often somehow
related to you,
and i create with it
what i can
it is the only
fulfillment
i know
surround myself,
with the feelin’,
wallow in the fire
that lights up inside
and bursts hopelessly
and i will pay
what has to be paid
for what i must have
© copyright 2018 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved
endure as best as can
at once so precious yet
so plainly unendurable
these self-imposed troubles
overwhelm and control
in every laugh a cry
in each pleasure, grief
happiness wanes, pain endures
such are the inconstancies
of holdin’ what cannot be held
when the loss feels most intense
when joy feels all but certain
and the hour of delight arrives
anguish begins again
long-felt desires, vain hopes
sad sighs, dreams accustomed to run
sad into as many rivers,
pourin’ like fountains, endless rain
a pain, beyond…
so hard, no compassion, gone mad
with pity: the last passions had
can passion ever root again
if it arched the curve of its back
if it licked with ardent fire
if it thrust as deep as before
the wounds cut everywhere
so there would be no place free
were yet there tears to flow
for hours, forever, past away
while yet, swellin’ sighs allow
falterin’ voice to breathe
while yet hands touch
tender, to wake
while yet, no thought affords
but one remembered dream alone
ask not, whate’er state
but when eyes weep no more
voice lost, hand untrue
when spirit’s fire is o’er
nor can express that which was known
come, cast thy shadow o’er
© copyright 2016 Mac Tag all rights reserved
Today is the baptismal day of Willem Drost (Amsterdam 19 April 1633 – buried 25 February 1659); Dutch Golden Age painter and printmaker.
He is a mysterious figure with not much known of his life. Around 1650, according to the early art historian Houbraken, he became a student of Rembrandt, eventually developing a close working relationship, painting history scenes, biblical compositions, symbolic studies of a solitary figure, as well as portraits. He was in Amsterdam until 1655 and then travelled to Rome and Venice, where he died.
Gallery
Today is the birthday of José Echegaray y Eizaguirre (Madrid 19 April 1832 – 14 September 1916 Madrid); civil engineer, mathematician, statesman, and one of the leading Spanish dramatists of the last quarter of the 19th century. He was awarded the 1904 Nobel Prize for Literature “in recognition of the numerous and brilliant compositions which, in an individual and original manner, have revived the great traditions of the Spanish drama.”
un problema, un carácter… y lo infundo,
cual densa dinamita, en lo profundo
de un personaje que mi mente crea.
La trama, al personaje le rodea
de unos cuantos muñecos que en el mundo
o se revuelcan en el cieno inmundo
o se calientan a la luz febea.
La mecha enciendo. El fuego se prepara,
el cartucho revienta sin remedio,
y el astro principal es quien lo paga.
Aunque a veces también en este asedio
que al arte pongo y que al instinto halaga,
¡me coge la explosión de medio a medio!
Mac Tag
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