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Dear Zazie,  Here is today’s Lovers’ Chronicle from Mac Tag.  What cross do you bear?  Rhett

The Lovers’ Chronicle

Dear Muse,

we are all the same
we are all blue
just different shades

troubles or problems
whatever you call ’em
it is all relative
what happiness should be

i gotta work mine out alone
only way i know how
you know your own truth
so work it out however you can

we are all the same
we all have crosses
some are just
bigger than others

© copyright 2018 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

Another from the Wyoming files.  Inspired by something I saw in Wyoming and a story that has been rattlin’ around in my head for about a year.  We all have crosses to bear.  Some more than others.  Some bigger than others.  Some learn to live with their crosses.  Some bury themselves and their ……

Crosses on the Mesa

The Song of the Day is a cover version of Billy Joel’s “Cross to Bear“.  We do not own the rights to this song.  All rights reserved by the rightful owner.  No copyright infringement intended.

Diego Velázquez
Self-portrait

Today is the baptismal day of Diego Rodríguez de Silva y Velázquez (Seville, baptized on June 6, 1599 – August 6, 1660 Madrid); painter who was the leading artist in the court of King Philip IV and one of the most important painters of the Spanish Golden Age.  He was an individualistic artist of the contemporary Baroque period.  In addition to numerous renditions of scenes of historical and cultural significance, he painted portraits of the Spanish royal family, other notable European figures, and commoners, culminating in the production of his masterpiece Las Meninas (1656).  Velázquez’s artwork was a model for the realist and impressionist painters.  Modern artists, including Pablo Picasso, Salvador Dalí and Francis Bacon, have paid tribute to Velázquez by recreating several of his most famous works.

Gallery

 Vieja friendo huevos (1618, English: Old Woman Frying Eggs). National Gallery of Scotland, Edinburgh

 Philip IV in Brown and Silver, 1632

 El Triunfo de Baco or Los Borrachos 1629 (English: The Triumph of Bacchus/The Drunks)

 Portrait of the Infanta Maria Theresa, Philip IV’s daughter with Elisabeth of France

 La rendición de Breda (1634–1635, English: The Surrender of Breda) was inspired by Velázquez’s first visit to Italy, in which he accompanied Ambrogio Spinola, who conquered the Dutch city of Breda a few years prior. This masterwork depicts a transfer of the key to the city from the Dutch to the Spanish army during the Siege of Breda. It is considered one of the best of Velázquez’s paintings.

Lady from court, c. 1635

 Portrait of Juan de Pareja (c. 1650)

Portrait of Pablo de Valladolid, 1635, a court fool of Philip IV

Portrait of Pope Innocent X, 1650

Las Meninas

Las Meninas (1656)

 Detail of Las Meninas (Velázquez’s self-portrait)

 Portrait of the eight-year-old Infanta Margarita Teresa in a Blue Dress (1659)

 Dwarf with a dog, long attributed to Velázquez, but possibly by another painter

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Dear Zazie,  Here is today’s Lovers’ Chronicle from Mac Tag.  What remains of your day?  Rhett

The Lovers’ Chronicle

Dear Muse,

© copyright 2020 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

tired, done with the day,
fixin’ a martini,
thinkin’ of that look
in the lengthenin’ shadows
and the moments with you,

those days long at rest
now left with sorrows
on a changin’ face,

sleep well, there were none but you
and that is all that remains of the day
retreatin’ back into rhythyms and rhymes
hidin’ amidst a crowd of words
amongst what remains of the reveries

© copyright 2019 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

at the Denver airport
flown in and out
of here many times
always solo, of course
chatted with some
lovely women here
never been shy
about that

nothin’ ever came
of those encounters,
those flights
passin’ in the night

my favorite memory here
was watchin’ a woman
in the terminal
runnin’ and jumpin’
into the arms
of her waitin’ love
i slowed to take it in
i did not want to miss
a second of their embrace

it remains, one of my
favorite moments

© Copyright 2018 Mac Tag/cowboy Coleridge all rights reserved

This poem draws it’s inspiration from W. B. Yeats and one of my favorite movies, The Remains of the Day based on the novel of the same name by Kazuo Ishiguro.  It stars Anthony Hopkins as Stevens and Emma Thompson as Miss Kenton with Christopher Reeve, and Hugh Grant.  The film was nominated for eight Academy Awards.

My books.  My words.  A Vesper martini.  A fire when it is cold.  The porch when it is not cold.  That is all that is left.  That is what ……

Remains of the Day

Now; old and grey and tired, done with the day,
On the porch with this book and a whisky,
Slowly readin’, and dreamin’ of that look
Your eyes had in the lengthenin’ shadows;
How I loved each moment of grace with you,
And your way with beauty and elegance
But those days are past and long, long at rest
Left with the sorrows of my changin’ face,
Bendin’ down beside the glowin’ fire pit,

Whisperin’; ‘Sleep well, there was none but you’
And that is all that remains of the day
Retreatin’ back into rhythyms and rhymes
Hidin’ myself amidst a crowd of words
Amongst what remains of the reveries

© 2013 Cowboy Coleridge All rights reserved

 

The Song of the Day is from the Soundtrack for The Remains of the Day by Richard Robbins.  We do not own the rights to this music.  All rights reserved by the rightful owner.  No copyright infringement intended.

 

William Roberts
William Roberts, (1970)

Today is the birthday of William Roberts (Hackney, London 5 June 1895 – 20 January 1980); painter of groups of figures and portraits, and was a war artist in both World War One and World War Two.

Gallery

Stable-time in the Wagon-lines, France 1922 Imperial War Musem

Chess players

 

Federico García Lorca
García Lorca in 1914

Today is the birthday of Federico del Sagrado Corazón de Jesús García Lorca, known as Federico García Lorca (Fuente Vaqueros, Granada, Andalusia, Spain 5 June 1898 – 19 August 1936 Near Alfacar, Granada, Spain); poet, playwright, and theatre director.  García Lorca achieved international recognition as a member of the Generation of ’27, a group consisting of mostly poets who introduced the tenets of European movements (such as symbolism, futurism, and surrealism) into Spanish literature.  He was executed by Nationalist forces at the beginning of the Spanish Civil War.  His body has never been found.

Caballito negro.
¿Dónde llevas tu jinete muerto?

• Little black horse.
  Where are you taking your dead rider?
  • “Canción de Jinete, 1860” from Canciones (1927)

• Verde que te quiero verde.
  Verde viento. Verdes ramas.
  El barco sobre la mar
  y el caballo en la montaña.
  • Green, how I want you green.
    Green wind. Green branches.
    The ship out on the sea
    and the horse on the mountain.
    • “Romance Sonámbulo” from Primer Romancero Gitano (1928)

• Los caballos negros son.
  Las herraduras son negras.
  Sobre las capas relucen
  manchas de tinta y de cera.
  Tienen, por eso no lloran,
  de plomo las calaveras.
  Con el alma de charol
  vienen por la carretera.
  • Black are the horses.
    The horseshoes are black.
    On the dark capes glisten
    stains of ink and wax.
    Their skulls are leaden,
    which is why they do not weep.
    With their patent leather souls
    they come down the street.
    • “Romance de la Guardia Civil Española” from Primer Romancero Gitano (1928)

• Las heridas quemaban como soles
  a las cinco de la tarde,
  y el gentío rompía las ventanas
  a las cinco de la tarde.
  A las cinco de la tarde.
  ¡Ay qué terribles cinco de la tarde!
  ¡Eran las cinco en todos los relojes!
  ¡Eran las cinco en sombra de la tarde!
  • The wounds were burning like suns
    at five in the afternoon,
    and the crowd broke the windows
    At five in the afternoon.
    Ah, that fatal five in the afternoon!
    It was five by all the clocks!
    It was five in the shade of the afternoon!
    • Llanto por Ignacio Sanchez Mejias (1935)

• ¡Que no quiero verla!
• Dile a la luna que venga,
  que no quiero ver la sangre
  de Ignacio sobre la arena.
• ¡Que no quiero verla!
  • I will not see it!
  • Tell the moon to come,
    for I do not want to see the blood
    of Ignacio on the sand.I will not see it!
    • Llanto por Ignacio Sanchez Mejias (1935)

• Pero ya duerme sin fin.
  Ya los musgos y la hierba
  abren con dedos seguros
  la flor de su calavera.
  Y su sangre ya viene cantando:
  cantando por marismas y praderas,
  resbalando por cuernos ateridos,
  vacilando sin alma por la niebla,
  tropezando con miles de pezuñas
  como una larga, oscura, triste lengua,
  para formar un charco de agonía
  junto al Guadalquivir de las estrellas.
  ¡Oh blanco muro de España!
  ¡Oh negro toro de pena!
  ¡Oh sangre dura de Ignacio!
  ¡Oh ruiseñor de sus venas!
  • But now he sleeps endlessly.
    Now the moss and the grass
    open with sure fingers
    the flower of his skull.
    And now his blood comes out singing;
    singing along marshes and meadows,
    slides on frozen horns,
    faltering souls in the mist
    stumbling over a thousand hoofs
    like a long, dark, sad tongue,
    to form a pool of agony
    close to the starry Guadalquivir.
    Oh, white wall of Spain!
    Oh, black bull of sorrow!
    Oh, hard blood of Ignacio!
    Oh, nightingale of his veins!
    • Llanto por Ignacio Sanchez Mejias (1935)

• No te conoce el toro ni la higuera,
  ni caballos ni hormigas de tu casa.
  No te conoce el niño ni la tarde
  porque te has muerto para siempre.
• No te conoce el lomo de la piedra,
  ni el raso negro donde te destrozas.
  No te conoce tu recuerdo mudo
  porque te has muerto para siempre.
• El otoño vendrá con caracolas,
  uva de niebla y montes agrupados,
  pero nadie querrá mirar tus ojos
  porque te has muerto para siempre.
• Porque te has muerto para siempre,
  como todos los muertos de la Tierra,
  como todos los muertos que se olvidan
  en un montón de perros apagados.
• No te conoce nadie. No. Pero yo te canto.
  Yo canto para luego tu perfil y tu gracia.
  La madurez insigne de tu conocimiento.
  Tu apetencia de muerte y el gusto de su boca.
  La tristeza que tuvo tu valiente alegría.
  • The bull does not know you, nor the fig tree,
    nor the horses, nor the ants in your own house.
    The child and the afternoon do not know you
    because you have died forever.
  • The shoulder of the stone does not know you
    nor the black silk on which you are crumbling.
    Your silent memory does not know you
    because you have died forever
  • The autumn will come with conches,
    misty grapes and clustered hills,
    but no one will look into your eyes
    because you have died forever.
  • Because you have died for ever,
    like all the dead of the earth,
    like all the dead who are forgotten
    in a heap of lifeless dogs.
  • Nobody knows you. No. But I sing of you.
    For posterity I sing of your profile and grace.
    Of the signal maturity of your understanding.
    Of your appetite for death and the taste of its mouth.
    Of the sadness of your once valiant gaiety.
    • Llanto por Ignacio Sanchez Mejias (1935)

• Verte desnuda es recordar la Tierra.
  • To see you naked is to recall the Earth.
    • “Casidas,” IV: Casida de la Mujer Tendida from Primeras Canciones (1936)

• Como no me he preocupado de nacer, no me preocupo de morir.
  • As I have not worried to be born, I do not worry to die.
    • Quoted in “Diálogos de un caricaturista salvaje,” interview with Luis Bagaría, El Sol, Madrid (1936-06-10)

• El remanso del aire
  bajo la rama del eco.
• El remanso del agua
  bajo fronda de luceros.
• El remanso de tu boca
  bajo espesura de besos.
  • The still pool of air
    under the branch of echo.
  • The still pool of water
    under a frond of stars.
  • The still pool of your mouth
    under a thicket of kisses.
    • “Remansos: Variación” from El Diván del Tamarit (1940)

• Un muerto en España está más vivo como muerto que en ningún sitio del mundo.
  • A dead man in Spain is more alive than a dead man anywhere in the world.
    • “Theory and Play of the Duende” from A Poet in New York (1940)

Today is the birthday of Christy Brown (Crumlin, Dublin 5 June 1932 – 7 September 1981 Parbrook, Somerset, England); writer and painter who had cerebral palsy and was able to write or type only with the toes of one foot. His most recognized work is his autobiography, titled My Left Foot (1954). It was later made into a 1989 Academy Award-winning film of the same name, starring Daniel Day-Lewis as Brown.

When My Left Foot became a literary sensation, one of the many people who wrote letters to Brown was married American woman Beth Moore. Brown and Moore became regular correspondents and, in 1960, Brown holidayed in North America and stayed with Moore at her home in Connecticut. When they met again in 1965 they began an affair. Brown journeyed to Connecticut once more to finish a book, which he had been developing for years. He finally did so in 1967 with help from Moore, who introduced and administered a strict working regimen, mostly by denying him alcohol (on which Brown was dependent) until a day’s work was completed. The book, titled Down All the Days, was published in 1970 and was inscribed with a dedication to Moore that read, “For Beth, who with such gentle ferocity, finally whipped me into finishing this book…” Upon his return to Ireland, he was able to use proceeds from the sales of his books to design and move into a specially constructed home outside Dublin with his sister’s family. Though Brown and Beth had planned to marry and live together at the new home, and though Moore had informed her husband of these plans, it was around this time that Brown began an affair with Englishwoman Mary Carr, whom he met at a party in London. Brown then terminated his affair with Moore and married Carr at the Registry Office, Dublin, in 1972. They moved to Stoney Lane, Rathcoole, County Dublin (now site of Lisheen Nursing Home), to Ballyheigue, County Kerry and then to Somerset. He continued to paint, write novels, poetry and plays. His 1974 novel, A Shadow on Summer, was based on his relationship with Moore, whom he still considered a friend.

Brown’s health deteriorated after marrying Carr. He became mainly a recluse in his last years, which is thought to be a direct result of Carr’s influence and perhaps abusive nature. Brown died at the age of 49 after choking during a lamb chop dinner. His body was found to have significant bruising, which led many to believe that Carr had physically abused him. Further suspicions arose after Georgina Hambleton’s biography, The Life That Inspired My Left Foot, revealed a supposedly more accurate and unhealthy version of their relationship. The book portrays Carr as an abusive alcoholic and habitually unfaithful. In Hambleton’s book, she quotes Brown’s brother, Sean, as saying: “Christy loved her but it wasn’t reciprocated because she wasn’t that kind of person. If she loved him like she said she did, she wouldn’t have had affairs with both men and women. I feel she took advantage of him in more ways than one.”

Gallery

Female bathing

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Dear Z, Today’s Lovers’ Chronicle from Mac Tag to his muse.  Rhett

The Lovers’ Chronicle

Dear Muse,

© copyright 2020 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

Pale Love, Pale Rider

the best me
i s’pose
at this point

tellin’ the truth,
whatever that is,
about myself

used to believe in deserve
just knew mine
was waitin’ for me
somewhere

had me some
blazin’ times
but i never
found anyone
that came close

reckon it does not
await everyone

© copyright 2018 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

do unto yourself
before you do unto others
never could git that right
what led to so many failures
deserve, deserve you say,
deserves got nuthin’ to do with it

© copyright 2016 Mac tag all rights reserved

not yours
but you were mine
and i do not quite know
how to live with that

© copyright 2016 Mac tag all rights reserved

Today is the birthday of Judith Malina (Kiel, Prussia, Germany; June 4, 1926 – April 10, 2015 Englewood, New Jersey); theater and film actress, writer and director. With her husband, Julian Beck, Malina co-founded The Living Theatre, a radical political theatre troupe that rose to prominence in New York City and Paris during the 1950s and 60s. The Living Theatre and its founders were the subject of the 1983 documentary Signals Through The Flames. 

And now on to today’s quotes.

I will be the very best me that I always want to be with you. – Sylvia Plath

If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people. – Virginia Woolf

I deserve that, don’t I, some sort of blazing love that I can live with. – Sylvia Plath

The first Plath quote says it all about love, right?  To be with that someone who makes one want to be a better person.  It brings to mind the line from the movie As Good as it Gets when Jack Nicholson‘s character tells Helen Hunt‘s character, “You make me want to be a better man.”  You made me want to be a better me for you.  Woolf’s quote goes to the heart of what I have been sayin’ about love; you have to love yourself, which includes bein’ honest with yourself, before you can love another.  I like to think, at long last, that I know who I am.  Not sure about the lovin’ part.  Probably why I have had so many failed relationships.  And I find Plath’s second quote rather poignant.  Deserve?  Well sure everyone deserves a blazin’ love they can live with.  Is that not the highest form of human achievement; to find ones blazin’ love?  Unfortunately as Clint Eastwood‘s character William Munny says in Unforgiven, “Deserves got nuthin’ to do with it.”  I know I was not your blazin’ love.  But you were mine.  And I do not quite know how to live with that.

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Dear Zazie, Here is today’s Lovers’ Chronicle from Mac Tag.  Do you get the blues?  Rhett

The Lovers’ Chronicle

Dear Muse,

not now, not as a way of life
commencin’ with a familiar groove
we stay, keepin’ all else at bay

our nothin’ else matters place
dues fully paid, no down payments
we stay, keepin’ everything away

these ensconced moments
sought after, even fought for
we stay, keepin’ our way

© copyright 2021.2023 mac tag/cowboycoleridge all rights reserved

© copyright 2020 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

descendin’ with that familiar groove

we stay, because of the storm,
within the car’s dry recess,
through the minutes slowin’,
we sat on, talkin’ snug and dry

then the downpour eased,
and the ensconced moment flew
and out the door you went

i would have held your hand
had it lasted a minute more

© copyright 2019 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

the only color
i see
is blue

not white, black,
brown, or yellow
just blue

we are all the same
just different shades
of blue

© copyright 2018 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

This one was inspired by my love for the state of Wyoming and my love for blues music.  I believe with this poem, I have created a new poem category called Blues Poetry.  I was in Laramie when I wrote this.  It was a beautiful day; cool mornin’ and warm afternoon.  I saw some pretty women and I could not help but think about what, or who, was not there.  Then I got the ……

Wyoming Blues

Sun shinin’ down
Stars fill the sky
Give me shelter
Though without you…

Sun shinin’ down
Tries to warm up
My cold, cold heart
My frozen words

Stars fill the sky
Try to bring hope
Keep it alive
Keep me around

Wyoming days
Wyoming nights
Wyoming girls
Wyoming blues

Give me shelter
Pretty cowgirl
Give me strength
Though it be brief

Though without you
There’s no sunshine
There are no stars
There’s no shelter

Wyoming days
Sun shinin’ down
Wyoming nights
Stars fill the sky
Wyoming girls
Give me shelter
Wyoming blues
Though without you

Big sky, big storms
Big forever
Now without you
Wyoming blues

Blue everywhere
Blue evermore
Blue without you
Wyoming blues

© 2013 Cowboy Coleridge All rights reserved

The Song of the Day is “Driftin’Blues” by Bobby Bland.   We do not own the rights to this song.  All rights reserved by the rightful owner.  No copyright infringement intended.

 

Theodore Robinson
Self-portrait (c. 1884-1887), collection: Margaret and Raymond Horowitz

Today is the birthday of Theodore Robinson (Irasburg, Vermont; June 3, 1852 – April 2, 1896 New York City); painter best known for his Impressionist landscapes.  He was one of the first American artists to take up Impressionism in the late 1880s, visiting Giverny and developing a close friendship with Claude Monet.  Several of his works are considered masterpieces of American Impressionism.nal links

Gallery

 Robinson in 1882

The plum tree

 La Vachère (ca. 1888) Smithsonian American Art Museum

 La Débâcle 1892

 Nantucket, 1882

• 

  Girl at Piano, (c.1887)

• 

  By the River, (1887)

• 

  Capri, 1890, Collection Carmen Thyssen-Bornemisza, Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum, Madrid

• 

  The Old Bridge, 1890. Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza.

• 

  Père Trognon and His Daughter at the Bridge, (1891)

• 

  Valley of the Seine from Giverny Heights, (1892), Corcoran Gallery of Art

• 

  House with Scaffolding, (1892)

• 

  The Wedding March, (1892)

• 

  A French Hamlet , (1892) Brooklyn Museum

• 

  Canal Scene, (1893)

• 

  World’s Columbian Exposition (1894), Collection of Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art.

• 

  Jamaica, Vermont, (1895)

   

Raoul Dufy
Le Cavalier arabe (Le Cavalier blanc), 1914, oil on canvas, 66 x 81 cm, Musée d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris

Today is the birthday of Raoul Dufy (Le Havre 3 June 1877 – 23 March 1953 Forcalquier); Fauvist painter and brother of painter Jean Dufy.  He developed a colorful, decorative style that became fashionable for designs of ceramics and textiles, as well as decorative schemes for public buildings.  He is noted for scenes of open-air social events.  He was also a draftsman, printmaker, book illustrator, Scenic designer, a designer of furniture, and a planner of public spaces.

Gallery

les deux modèles

Parapluies

Regatta at Cowes, (1934), Washington, D.C. National Gallery of Art.

Mikhail Larionov
Mikhail Fyodorovich Larionov

Today is the birthday of Mikhail Fyodorovich Larionov (Tiraspol, Kherson Governorate, Russian Empire; June 3, 1881 – May 10, 1964 Fontenay-aux-Roses, Paris); avant-garde painter.  His lifelong partner was fellow avant-garde artist, Natalia Goncharova.

Gallery 

Waitress

Jewish Venus

• 

  Acacias in Spring (1904)

• 

  Self-Portrait (1910)

• 

  Red Rayonism (1913)

• 

  Dancer in motion (1915)

• 

  Lady with a fan (1916)

   

Josephine Baker
Baker in her banana costume

Today is the birthday of Josephine Baker (born Freda Josephine McDonald; 3 June 1906 St. Louis, Missouri – 12 April 1975 Paris); entertainer, activist, and French Resistance agent. Her career was centered primarily in Europe, mostly in her adopted France. During her early career she was renowned as a dancer, and was among the most celebrated performers to headline the revues of the Folies Bergère in Paris. Her performance in the revue Un Vent de Folie in 1927 caused a sensation in Paris. Her costume, consisting of only a girdle of bananas, became her most iconic image and a symbol of the Jazz Age and the 1920s.

Baker was celebrated by artists and intellectuals of the era, who variously dubbed her the “Black Pearl”, the “Bronze Venus”, and the “Creole Goddess”. She renounced her U.S. citizenship and became a French national after her marriage to French industrialist Jean Lion in 1937. She raised her children in France. “I have two loves,” the artist once said, “my country and Paris.”

Baker was the first person of color to become a world-wide entertainer and to star in a major motion picture, the 1934 Marc Allégret film Zouzou.

Baker refused to perform for segregated audiences in the United States and is noted for her contributions to the Civil Rights Movement. In 1968 she was offered unofficial leadership in the movement in the United States by Coretta Scott King, following Martin Luther King Jr.‘s assassination. After thinking it over, Baker declined the offer out of concern for the welfare of her children.

She was also known for aiding the French Resistance during World War II. After the war, she was awarded the Croix de guerre by the French military, and was named a Chevalier of the Légion d’honneur by General Charles de Gaulle.

 

In Havana, Cuba

Her first marriage was to American Pullman porter Willie Wells when she was only 13 years old. The marriage was reportedly very unhappy and the couple divorced a short time later. Another short-lived marriage followed to Willie Baker in 1921; she retained Baker’s last name because her career began taking off during that time, and it was the name by which she became best known. Baker also had several relationships with women. During her time in the Harlem Renaissance arts community, one of her relationships was with Blues singer Clara Smith. In 1925 she began an extramarital relationship with the Belgian novelist Georges Simenon. In 1937, Baker married Frenchman Jean Lion. She and Lion separated in 1940. Lion died in 1957 of Spanish influenza. She married French composer and conductor Jo Bouillon in 1947, but their union also ended in divorce. She was later involved for a time with the artist Robert Brady, but they never married.

On 8 April 1975, Baker starred in a retrospective revue at the Bobino in Paris, Joséphine à Bobino 1975, celebrating her 50 years in show business. The revue, financed notably by Prince Rainier, Princess Grace, and Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, opened to rave reviews. Demand for seating was such that fold-out chairs had to be added to accommodate spectators. The opening night audience included Sophia Loren, Mick Jagger, Shirley Bassey, Diana Ross, and Liza Minnelli.

Four days later, Baker was found lying peacefully in her bed surrounded by newspapers with glowing reviews of her performance. She was in a coma after suffering a cerebral hemorrhage. She was taken to Pitié-Salpêtrière Hospital, where she died, aged 68, on 12 April 1975.

She received a full Roman Catholic funeral that was held at L’Église de la Madeleine. The only American-born woman to receive full French military honors at her funeral, Baker’s funeral was the occasion of a huge procession. After a family service at Saint-Charles Church in Monte Carlo, Baker was interred at Monaco’s Cimetière de Monaco.

dancing the Charleston, 1926

 

Mac Tag

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cowboy coleridge, driftin blues, eric clapton, johnny moores three blazers, josephine baker, love letter, love poem, love song, Mikhail Larionov, muse, poem a day, poem of the day, raoul dufy, Rhett, song of the day, tea with tater, the lovers almanac, the lovers chronicle, theodore robinson, tla, twt, wyoming blues, Zazie

Dear Zazie,

Your message in a bottle, breaks my heart.  It makes me sad, mad and scared.  Honestly, I need some time to process.  I will be back to continue this…

Well… hell!  My heart breaks for you.  From the moment I met you, I only ever wanted you to be happy; to find your ever after.  I entertained hopes at first that I could be that for you, but I knew I could not.  And I knew I could not find ever after, but I just knew you could.  Je suis toujours malade et sans courage.

I have talked to Jett and Mac Tag and we are in complete agreement on this; you have nothin’, and we mean absolutely nothin’ to apologize for or to be ashamed of.  It sounds like to us, you simply took a swing at love and you missed.  Love is the hardest damn thing in the world to do, so we will never find fault with anyone who tries and fails.  We have all failed at love and we understand how you feel and you are not alone.  But make sure you keep reachin’ out to us.  We cannot help if we do not know.

We are in agreement on this as well; at some point, no matter how far out to sea you may be, it becomes necessary to abandon a hopeless voyage and swim for shore.  The Zazie we know is smart enough and fierce enough to swim as far as she needs to, to save herself.

Of course we are worried about you and will be till you are you again.  Jett has danced the same dance you are dancin’.  He has lived his life lookin’ out portholes; suvivin’ storms, pluggin’ holes and catchin’ glimpses of the sunrise.  Keep lookin’ out your porthole and keep hopin’.  A woman’s heart is a sacred thing and we believe, we will always believe, yours is more so than most.

Will you ever know love again?  You will Zazie, but first you must save yourself.  Our wish on the wind is that you will.

Rhett

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Dear Zazie,

In your letter, Thinking About That Time, you ask, do I remember?  Do I remember!?  Only every other memory.  Only every single detail: where we were; the way you looked; the way I felt with you by my side as we walked those marble-lined halls of forever.

Of course I was excited.  Around you, I always felt that way.  And I was excited about my idea.  As you well know, I live for writin’.  My idea was driven by one of my favorite quotes, from one of my favorite poets:

“I am still of opinion that only two topics can be of the least interest to a serious and studious mood – sex and the dead.”
William Butler Yeats

It was a quick change of two words from that quote that led to my idea and still inspires my writin’; love. Love and the sorrow.  So yes I was very excited.  There could be no better place to pitch my idea.  And there could only be one person to pitch it to.  So glad I did.  So glad you said yes.

I agree, our banter was so much fun.  It was like the beginnin’ of a new relationship.  Like fallin’ in love.  And we did.  In our own way.  Oh I remember.  All too well…

Indeed, after all this time.  You and your critters and your garden.  Me, and the sun risin’ and settin’ on my verse.  Let us talk about love.  Nothin’ would please me more.

Mac Tag

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the lovers almanac, the lovers chronicle

There once were three guys sitting at a bar.   One an addict, one a doctor and one a narcissist.  I know it sounds like a joke but it is very true.  As the day carried on they drank and spoke of the normal things spoken in a situation much like this.  Eventually the conversation turned to her.  The alcohol feeling heavy began to take its toll.  The addict slurred “I once had her but I love my vices so much more.”  The doctor chimed in looking down at his hands.  “Heck, I once had her but she loved the soil so and I love my hands and my money.”  The narcissist wanting to be a part of the conversation added “Well fellows I once had her too.  The main problem is I love me, myself and I.”

The moment was interrupted by the sound of a bar stool moving out from the bar.  All three men look down the way.  There stands a Cowboy looking back at them.  A slight grin crosses his face.  He motions for the bar tender to refill each of their glasses and places payment on the counter.  The three guys looked at each other puzzled and then back at the Cowboy as he slid his hat on and started for the door.  The addict took one big swig then held up his glass as if to say thank you, the doctor swirled the contents around studying it before taking a sip and the narcissit feeling unsure about the moment yell out to the Cowboy.  “Hey are you not going to have a drink with us?”  The Cowboy stopped at the door, turned around, tipped his hat at the three guys and stepped thru the door.

See the Cowboy had to say nothing because his words had already been spoken over the years.  Thru words and actions.  What once was, was not his was, but his is.  There was no drink to quench his thirst in this bar.  Only the lost and lonely left behind.  Cowboys get the girl.  

Goodnight my dear Rhett.

Zazie Lee

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My dearest Rhett,

You hold on to a moment, a memory , a quick glance and can write of it forever.

So many years I have wasted while your years make an eternity.  I think the time has allowed you to push me upward on a narrowing pedestal.  Such a small place up here.  Not many places to put these things I have come with.  Now you want to share the space?  I know you pack lightly as most Cowboys do, however, the things you bring are essentials.  Must haves!  What if by chance the wind blows up here and the ink well tumbles and breaks?  I see us both watching the quill feather falling yet catching the wind, blowing, giving us hope only to know the truth of its fate.  What is a man without his tools?  I say to you it would never be my intention to be so messy with your things.  I have a fear of small places with big ideas and ink.

It’s so high up here.  Don’t get me wrong I’m not afraid of heights.  I’m more worried of how I got here, why I am here and have I taken someone else’s seat?  For now the view looks nice and I would like to enjoy it more.  I honestly hope you know what you are doing.  You might want to bring a safety rope when you come.   I may slip, I may trip, I may jump!  Heck you may even push me once you get here.  Ahhhh, the wind blows and my hair dances across my face. I’m smiling.  Hurry you gotta see this.  It’s the moment that pushes the quill.

Zazie

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I got home early from work and decided to go for a run before we went out.  Once changed I was heading through the house when I started around the corner to the kitchen.  There she stood.  I jumped back hoping she didn’t see me.  She said nothing nor did she look up so I felt sure that she didn’t know I was there.  That’s when I realized I was holding my breath and I was needing to start breathing again.  She seems to always take my breath and at this very moment I didn’t care.  I slowly and quietly took shallow breaths to draw air to my lungs.

She stood there leaning sideways in the doorway between the laundry porch and the kitchen entrance with one foot propped up on the moulding.  The sun was setting and coming through the side door.  The sunlight highlighting her silhouette and her long curly golden hair.   She had on a flower print, knee length dress.  It was light in color and I could tell the material was thin because the light was coming through showing her shapely legs all the way up.  I wished so bad she was facing me.  She had a bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other.  She was looking down into the bowl, humming and taking a bite every now and then.  She had a soft grin on her face.  It was obvious she was feeling good and her mood instantly encompassed my heart.

She had boots on.  Those sexy kinda boots a Lady wears to let you know she is feminine but can hold her own weight.  Damn she looked good.

I saw the box of Cheerios and a half pint of milk sitting on the counter.  She was approaching the bottom of the bowl and I watch as the spoon touched her lips and wish the bowl larger.   With each bite she softly drew in every drop of milk from the spoon.  My body started to react and I could feel my breathing had become thick with desire.  It was then that she stopped, she froze but she held her gaze to the other side of the door jam.  A slight grin came over her face as she cocked her head and eyebrow my way.  “I missed lunch.” She said  as she brought the bowl up to her lips and sipped the last of the milk.  When she brought the bowl down my heart stopped.  There on her soft upper lips was the last drop of milk.  I lost it!  That drop just had to be mine!  I rush across the room and took her lips into mine with the focus on her upper lip.  I grasped each of her arms in my hands as I worked my mouth and tongue over hers tasting every bit of  sweetness I could find.  The bowl and the spoon fell out of her hands to the floor.

Cheerios – That’s whats for dinner!

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kiss, Love, Passion, Rhett, true love, Zazzie