Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Metamorphosis!" (Apres F. Kafka)

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Metamorphosis!" (Apres Franz Kafka)

.... TIMES WE HAD in the world's capitals. Times we knew Kings, Princesses, the talented few? Times when we wallowed drunk, filled with Song & Rhyme to beguile the Beguiled, the Queen of Diamonds, those so-called ACES!?

As for the King of Clubs, we unlocked his empty golden hoard. Seemed simple! Nothing there. And the Queen of Spades; her spells? A trick bag! Yet the Jack of Hearts, your Achillies heel? (Stay away from cards!) Solitaire is a game, nobody watching, U can cheat, no fiscal worries.

Times we had, Alexandria & Rome. A worthy conundrum, a social Washing Machine; unseen AGITATOR, Spin-Dry, a cycle, a Truth that make U Lie...perhaps to save a Soul? -Spin, spin, spin! (Somehow, like spiders we spin?). Caravaggio! Michaelangelo! 

TIME WAS we had a Bi-polar resonance, a "metamorphosis", history's BUD un-leashed, a chrysalis beyond Fate's reach but now just WHO herald's Nature's solvency? NO SMOKING in a British/Irish Pub! No slugging a can of beer on the streets of L.A. What next? Islamic No-Kissing in public?

TIMES we endured bitter loneliness. Beggars can't be choosers & faint heart never bought a lottery ticket nor a fair maiden's heart. In legal terms U were probably born bankrupt thru no fault of your own. Ducats, ducats, ducats! Greed, Man's benzine history!

...Alas, who WEEPS for the Broken, the village Fool, bound into solitude or sold into slavery or servitude, a zillion Victorian house maids WAIL!? A farm gal dreaming of some city where all our illusions fail.

A lock of her hair, a leaf pressed in her diary, a farewell E-Mail, some pithy token, a souvenir, just how we look back. And all our yesterdays, could we have done something more to metamorphose into a thing of awe?

...ONE MORNING, Calander pages whipping by, I woke up, looked into my mirror & found I'd turned into a giant INSECT!!!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. Corozal-Belize.

Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "A Winter's Tale."

 Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "A Winter's Tale."

...DEAD COALS IN THE FIREPLACE that once blazed true, bright, stealing tomorrow's residue; blue within red, then yellow but now a smoking wisp of a life, a love?

No regrets-persecution, no hauntings, no cusp of a moon, no non-purpose straight & true; whose fires were U?

That somber hearth, VESTA's sojourn? No Roman Vestal Virgin could allow the fire to die; the penalty, to be buried alive: "Tut-tut." -In the days of old, in the days of gold, in the days of Roman Rock & Roll?

...A dank hearth, a chilly morn, fragile, mittens clad hands. Who's to say, HIGH-NOON, Last Train to Yuba, Apocalypse-Now! -Never mind "Happy Hour"? But not a "Selfie" option in sight?

As for Love's DARWIN AWARDS, people drop like flies like asking for a Cognac in Armagnac-Gascony: MERDE!!! -Accordions rust. The dead piano player isn't even there!

...Dead coals in the fireplace, no smolder, just Love's legacy, a Winter's tale, an eternity, a mirror-blank, and without warning, an existence's final passport stamp. A blaze without!

February. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Sweet Delores."

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Sweet Delores." (after Algernon Charles SWINBURNE, English Poet, poem, published-1866)

"Sweet Delores."

....O SISTA NIGHT, or Sista Ray, O Sista moon, see how we WAIL! O Sista kiss, O Sista Love, how do I find, Sista dove?... 

O Sista moment, O Sista Kate, Sweet Delores, Sista fate? O Sista heat. O Sista mood, to help this fool, Sista Cool.

O Sista Jane! O Sista Mae! Sweet Delores, Sista Fame? O Sista Night, O Sista Ray, O Sista moon, see how we WAIL! O Sista kiss, O Sista love, how do I find, Sista dove?

Sista Moment! Sista Kate, sweet Delores, Sista fate, Sista heat, O Sista mood, to help this fool, Sista Cool. O Sista Kate! O Sista Mame! Sweet Delores, Sista pain? 

O Sista night, that Sista mood, the Goddess of Blues.... See how WAIL! See how we WAIL! See how WAIL! See how we WAIL! See how we WAIL! See how we WAIL!...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix....F.Y.I folks, U can Google this/Song & Music...on Utube. (enjoy.)

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Fools & Funkers!"

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Fools & Funkers!"

...FOOLS & FUNKERS, past their sale date, struttin' & frettin' upon the stage, long since an encore's echo, squeezing blood out of a rolling stone, now moss covered where-in adoration fails to penetrate.

Fools & Funkers, a clowns smeared lipstick smile betrays a gendre out of style. A Jitterbug, a Charleston, all that Jazz and a spinning world gone in a flash.

Fools & Funkers, tits & teeth, a silent movie, a fragile SCENE. Meet the New Gig. Same as the old gig. Same as it ever was. Same as it ever was. Fools & Funkers! Death loves a crowd.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/DAVE DELACROIX/David Michael Oxley on FACEBOOK/ "RAGGEDY ANNE!"

 Our Dude in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix (under-cover-spy-thingy): "Raggedy Anne!

...DID U KISS & FORGET a Poets heart? Did U forget, LOVE abandoned, lost in all your confusion, that vivacity to confound a CAT? A raggedly Anne treading on water?

Did U WANDER/SWIM into troubled waters? A RIP-TIDE:  Once, swept away? Expectations. Who dances your tune that in a NANO, a nano moment turns Avante-garde Jazz into Blues?

Your HEM skirt is showing, stockings-wrinkled, a flute-solo, your Soul; as histories, ERA's peel away to the raggedy Anne, the belladonna, a great LADY, miniature portraits, exhibits, to adorn museum walls in Paris & Rome.

That Raggedy Anne, that "O-Murphy"/Casanova's protege who caught the eye of a French King.  PORN QUEEN? Pox-ridden? A great Lady? Remembered! Now remembered no more.

That raggedy Anne. Swishing & skirt. Knee stockings, flippant, no hurt. A Waltz thru a Life, a hot butter knife. That raggedy Anne I once knew.

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe. Dave Delacroix. "BITS & BOBS!" (And all those...)

 Our Man in Europe, Dave Delacroix: "Bits & Bobs!"

(dedicato: Gordon Westeran)

"BITS & BOBS!"

...BOX O MATCHES, SWAN VESTA, SMOKES, TEN QUID in your "TROU"?  Levis, Ben Sherman shirt, BATA on your feet. A Harrington windbreaker, Sheffield U.K, cold & rain. 1960s. Pre-internet, no Cellphone... when U could still use your brain.

 A 2-TcONE Suit with a Blue-Beat hat: A-ROCKSTEADY! That KID U went AT! (Tomorrows Rockstar?) ...A megaphone bowtie but a tapping-pointed shoe. TAMLA-MOTOWN tunes resound: "Gimmie just a little more time!?", some Chairman at the Board?

Bits & Bobs. Your first music/L.P. STEREO, Paul Simon, Jimi Hendrix replacing a rusting country BICYCLE/ U roamed afar, 50 miles in a day - locked in those RUGBY school days when U scored that victory "TRY"! (The TEAM singing, Johnny Cash's: "Cocksuckers in the sky!" tra-la-la!

... And that splendor in the grass. Girls' hearts come & go. just who "all-hallows", whittles into your soul, "Dia del la Morte" which unsounds your goal. The "Sunshine of your Love", or as for U, "Do U know the way to Santa FE?" Why would U? It's just another gig.

The ROAR of YOUTH. Innocent vivacity. A box of Matches, now a whisky flask on your hip, and all those Bits & Bobs, but no whining, we take to our grave. BEHOLD THE MIRROR! BEHOLD YOUR FACE! Shakespeare TOO had his moments.

...A box of matches. BITS & BOBS! Swan Vesta! Strike a light! I wondered lonely - tongue in cheek - as a cloud... And all those crazy things we thought were Cool. (Anybody gotta match!?) ...Don't ask. Don't tell less U ruin the spell! Those bits & bobs. We got. That BLING, our solo Song.

c.2026. davedelacroix.

 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A road map to your ZEN."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A road map to your ZEN."

...A ROAD MAP to your ZODIAC, a road map to your COOL, a road map to your ZEN...Do U have a NANO, a minute, an hour to learn just how U began? 

Afterall, a G.P.S. to your Soul, worthy of investigation/what's not to like, but perhaps only U?

A road map to your Umbilical, a "double helix" of imagination that reaches to the sky. It doesn't matter if U have to wonder why? ZEN? A neighbor?

...ZEN, a neighbor? Buddy/BABE on Facebook? Just a concrete-Internet concept away to chisel at your mind, Spam-on-Spam in (lingua) Mandarin? Maybe she's cute?

...A road map/G.P.S., satellites in the sky like "olde Tyme" road signposts, directing: "GO WEST YOUNG MAN!". Later? Let me know the reason why.

A zillion "friends" who U have never met. A road map to your Zodiac. A road map, a ONE-WAY street to your Cool. 

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.