The Lovers’ Chronicle 31 March – enough – birth of Andrew Marvell & Octavio Paz – art by Jules Pascin

Dear Zazie,

Here is today’s Lovers’ Chronicle from Mac Tag. Is it enough for you? Rhett

Rhett

The Lovers’ Chronicle

Dear Muse,

dream enough and time…
-Hung up in the between world,
a song begins to play,
The World is not Enough-
oh nice, i love Garbage,
well more accurately,
i love Shirley Manson
wonder where this dream ride is gonna take us;
hey bebe, he says to the lovely redhead, here we go again
-They find themselves sitting at an outdoor table
at Le Dôme Café in Montparnasse;
very nice, back at le Dôme, must be in honor
of Jules Pascin, the prince of Montparnasse 
on his birthday, and just in time for apéro
-A waitress sets down two Kir Royales and a platter
of olives, cheeses, sliced saucisson and baguette;
santé mon amour
Santé my love, says the redhead
interestin’ how we both found ourselves
livin’ in worlds that were not enough
And how we found enough right here
yes, i built it and then we fulfilled it
now the only question left,
do we have enough drinks and snacks 

© copyright 2024.2025 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

live from Nashville, it is Friday night…
the perfect song for today
another one from Van Halen,
lyrics courtesy of Sammy;
“Love hurts you sometimes
It's not so easy to find, no
Searchin' everywhere
You turn and swear
It's always been there”
”Do you have a Van Halen song
for every occasion”
absolutely, but this one fits so well;
we can vouch for the hard to find part
and it was always there, inside us
we just had to catch up to each other
”And now that we have”
it is enough, we need nothin’ else

© copyright 2023.2024 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

can go several directions dependin’ on which word precedes or follows; lookin’ back, we can make a long list of what we are done with, the things we did, the places we went, we got the souvenirs and we are not goin’ back; lookin’ ahead, no point in spendin’ any time or thought on what is left, the answer is, it is enough; whatever we do, wherever we go; we got here when we were ready, when it was time and now we have in us enough

© copyright 2022.2024 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

to be found,
sound the echoin’
song of these days

the long denied
within reach
proven to be
not too far away

now turn to ashes all
that came before

for this
a fine and private place,
to embrace, herein
a certain safety
and comfort

i can and will
give all that i have

and more

© copyright 2021 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

Pale Love, Pale Rider

well it came to pass
yep
as i feared
yep
how ya’ doin’
oh, fine, it did feel like the rug was jerked out
from under me, but the rope held, admittedly,
 it had too much slack, but that is my fault 
and now we are stronger, faster, better
yes, it was a good thing, it drove home
what Schopenhauer wrote and now
we know what we have is enough 
and we will be alright no matter

© copyright 2020.2024 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

no more to be found,
nor sound the echoin’
song since those days

the long denied
was within reach
yet proved to be
too far away

now turn to ashes all
that came before

for this
a fine and private place,
with none to embrace
but therein is a certain
safety and comfort

© copyright 2019 mac tag/cowboy coleridge all rights reserved

might we yet
that would be nice

i would
and would you
for what awaits
what lies before us
what we never had

what we have dreamed
between then and now
between solitude
and half of a whole
between have
and have not
between without
and with

might we yet
there is still enough

© copyright 2018 mac tag/cowboy coleridge

for Julie

yes, had we
that would have been nice
but we had not
i s’pose the coyness
and the readin’
between the lines,
were not enough

i am sorry

i could not,
perhaps cannot,
give more than i gave
my imperfections,
my fear, my doubt
too much to overcome

© copyright 2017 mac tag/cowboy Coleridge all rights reserved

Waitin’ to live
Waitin’ to die
Waitin’ for an
absolution
Well, never was
worth a damn at
waitin’. Best to
accept as is
And keep ridin’

© copyright 2015 mac tag/cowboy Coleridge all rights reserved

Today is the birthday of Andrew Marvell (Winestead, England 31 March 1621 – 16 August 1678 London); metaphysical poet, satirist and politician who sat in the House of Commons at various times between 1659 and 1678. During the Commonwealth period he was a colleague and friend of John Milton. His poems range from the love-song “To His Coy Mistress”, to evocations of an aristocratic country house and garden in “Upon Appleton House” and “The Garden”, the political address “An Horatian Ode upon Cromwell’s Return from Ireland”, and the later personal and political satires “Flecknoe” and “The Character of Holland”. 

by Unknown artist, circa 1655-1660

Marvell is sometimes known as the “British Aristides’’ for his incorruptible integrity in life and poverty at death. Many of his poems were not published until 1681, three years after his death, from a collection owned by Mary Palmer, his housekeeper. After Marvell’s death she laid dubious claim to having been his wife, from the time of a secret marriage in 1667.

Here is my favorite Marvell poem:

To His Coy Mistress (1650-1652)

• Had we but world enough, and time,
  This coyness, Lady, were no crime.
  We would sit down and think which way
  To walk, and pass our long love’s day.
• I would
  Love you ten years before the Flood,
  And you should, if you please, refuse
  Till the conversion of the Jews.
  My vegetable love should grow
  Vaster than empires and more slow.
• An age at least to every part,
  And the last age should show your heart.
• But at my back I always hear
  Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near;
  And yonder all before us lie
  Deserts of vast eternity.
• Thy beauty shall no more be found;
  Nor, in thy marble vault shall sound
  My echoing song; then worms shall try
  That long preserved virginity,
  And your quaint honor turn to dust,
  And into ashes all my lust.
  The grave’s a fine and private place,
  But none, I think, do there embrace.
• Now therefore while the youthful hue
  Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
  And while thy willing soul transpires
  At every pore with instant fires,
  Now let us sport us while we may,
  And now, like amorous birds of prey,
  Rather at once our time devour
  Than languish in his slow-chapped power.
• Let us roll all our strength and all
  Our sweetness up into one ball,
  And tear our pleasures with rough strife
  Thorough the iron gates of life:
  Thus, though we cannot make our sun
  Stand still, yet we will make him run.

Today is the birthday of The Prince of Montparnasse, Jules Pascin (Vidin, Bulgaria; March 31, 1885 – June 5, 1930 Montmartre); artist known for his paintings and drawings. He later became an American citizen. His most frequent subject was women, depicted in casual poses, usually nude or partly dressed. 

Pascin was educated in Vienna and Munich. He traveled for a time in the United States, spending most of his time in the South. He is best known as a Parisian painter, who associated with the artistic circles of Montparnasse, and was one of the emigres of the School of Paris.
He, along with Hermine David became one of the École de Paris artists, a group of mostly non-French artists, émigrés particularly from eastern Europe who were working in Paris before World War I.  David was already well-established as a successful young painter, miniaturist and printmaker. She followed Pascin to the United States in 1915, where they were married on 25 September 1918.
Having struggled with depression and alcoholism, he died by suicide at the age of 45.

Gallery

And today is the birthday of Octavio Paz (Octavio Paz Lozano, Mexico City 31 March 1914 – 19 April 1998 Mexico City); poet, writer, diplomat, and winner of the 1990 Nobel Prize in Literature, the first Mexican writer to become a Nobel Laureate.  

In 1937 he married Elena Garro, considered to be one of Mexico’s finest writers; they had met in 1935. They had one daughter, Helena, and were divorced in 1959. 1965, he married Marie-José Tramini, a French woman who would be his wife for the rest of his life. 

Paz wrote:

Merece lo que sueñas. 

(Deserve your dream.)

• “Hacia el Poema (Puntos de Partida)” [Toward the Poem (Starting Points)] (1950)

Un mundo nace cuando dos se besan.

La poesía.
Se desliza entre el sí y el no:
dice
lo que callo,
calla
lo que digo,
sueña
lo que olvido.

Apremio

Corre y se demora en mi frente
Lenta y se despeña en mi sangre
La hora pasa sin pasar
Y en mi esculpe y desvanece

Certeza

Si es real la luz blanca
De esta lámpara, real
La mano que escribe, son reales
Los ojos que miran le escrito ?

De una palabra a la otra
Lo que digo se desvanece.
Y osé que estoy vivo
Entre dos paréntesis.

Los ojos
se cierran
Las palabras se abren.

Entre lo que veo y digo
Entre lo que digo y callo,
Entre lo que callo y sueño,
Entre lo que sueño y olvido,
La poesía

thanks for stoppin’ by y’all

mac tag