Our Man in BLUE, Blue in Belize: "A patch of Blue."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize: "A patch of Blue."

(dedicato: Carol Aniello.)

"A patch of Blue."

...A patch of blue in your night-zazz red shoes. A patch of blue NEON in your red dress. A patch of blue: YOU! -swirling in your light. A patch of blue for U tonight!

A patch of blue, it's true; your SONG! A patch of blue SWITCHED to hover. A patch of blue, kisses-true no-one can ever take away. Your patch of blue. Makes U you.

A patch of blue, no yellow, reds, purple or gauge. No insulation of what the World observes. A patch of blue, swirling within, perhaps to un-furl-dragonfly, wings demystified to confound a World that doesn't understand.

A patch of blue. The ME? Mostly you. WotchagonnaDO: Snake eyes! No-longer -"handbags at twenty paces" but survivors' tales, songs of the sea & all of the PEOPLE we ought to be. What DEVIL made U or ME, looking for peace of mind? (Whisky-galore!) or some such.

A patch of blue, a patch of blue, perhaps an ENVY deep within. Where death ends. Where life begins. A patch of blue. Wotcha-GOT. Look at your shoes. And YES, who devils with our minds, an "un-kind" to poke, or twist, the curse of regrets, "a le recherche du temps perdu", (spiteful?) yet a kind-a blue.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. Our Man in Blue, Blue in Belize, in EUROPE, always Blue. KIDS R U?

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Rhapsody".

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: : "Rhapsody!"

 (SONG:) 'Ave U ever bin lonely, 'ave U ever bin blue, 'ave U ever bin star-cr0ssed, those kids in the dew? "Ave U ever bin NO-ONE, a file in the Time whence U knew no-one, no-one, a kiss for a mile?

 Have U ever been "desolate"-en francais, some cat outta sorts? Have U ever been lonely, that kid never sort. Stare your schoolyard NEMISIS, in the eye: "Back off or U'll know why!" A cold frontier, they know not why.

(They sense the ICEBERG in your lonely Soul.)

Did U ever have pigtails, boys pulled Em at will? Did U ever write Poetry, thru Ya will. Did U ever play Piano, alone at night. In that RAPHOSDY, some place U began...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Lady in the Lake." (RUSALKA.)

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "The Lady in the Lake." (Rusalka!)

CAN U SING ME YOUR tomorrow? Can U sing me your Blue? Can U sing me your regrets though they might be few. Can U sing me your triumphs, in the park, in the city, in the dark? Can U sing of the night-time when the dogs decide: "BARK!"? 

Yet a handsome Prince a-horse came prancing by?...

Can U sing me your ecstasy, a "needy" to please. An Adam/Eve, a place on a tree/with a snake, a 7 "easy-peasy" to please. Can U sing of your illusion, that Biblical We? The world in your pocket, that inner sneeze. 

Can U sing of tomorrow, that place in the sun. Can U RING or decipher, lost or torn. Can U sing of past glory, where do we begin? A Mermaid, a Prince entwined in the depths. A sacrifice of death.

Come sing me your tomorrow. Come bring me your heart. Come sing of tomorrow, UN-furl our today. the lady in the lake not long for this day.  we pine; we pine &...

...Can U sing me your tomorrow, a Debussy's" Clair de Lune", or Rusalka, composers Dvorak's fingers your notes. The kernel in your bud. Rusalka! That kernel in your fate. A handsome young Prince on a-horse came a-prancing by.

c.2026. dave delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "East of Eden."

 Our Man in Europe/Now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "East of Eden."

...THE WAILING OF WOMEN, WITCHES/BANSHEES to stir your BREW: AVAST! AVAST! U demons, let an old Soul lie still, to crumble, smolder like an old cheese-decay, an "Eve of St. Agnes", a Keats' Ode, a worship forgotten, a Poet's workshop's grind.

The platitudes echo on a CONCERT-night when everyone hugs U but there's no EYES insight, only them/U, just heads with blank eyes that stare thru U but U never know why? DAH!? (Edvard Munch's painting: THE SCREAM!) And kisses beyond all promises true, the price of your fame, then kicked by the roadside, lame. What were their names? My name? Yours too. All yours. Mine! Were they blue?

East of Edan where U find your Blue. Bros. GRIMM, Hansel & Gretal, a paper trail in the forest, a "whoosits-boogaloo" to take U by the hand, a stranger's hand, sometimes to befriend. No G.P.S., no inner kisses. The crux of semantic-enraptured Soul just where U first found it...when U were once whole.

The wailing of Banshees, witches at your door and the songs U have known I wish to never hear no more.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "South of Capricorn."

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "South of Capricorn."

THE DEVIL MAKES WORK outta idle hands & if that son-of-a-bitch with the LOUD lawnmower doesn't quit soon, we talkin' 'bout justifiable HOMICIDE!

It's always tough when U actually find your "feng-shui" (peace of mind) but ya can't blame some Cat, found a way - mowing grass/looks like shit/looks like its bin left out all night/needs a trim -to make a Buck - homicide-Insurance, nevertheless it's always on the backburner (my TRIGGER finger is itchy!). Maybe it's a dream retirement illusion/plan, palm trees, smooth sea, clement weather, no bugs, far from the madding crowd?

The Devil makes work outta 'retirees"- minds (called Dementia) plagued by a life times' haunting, that never-forgetting specter, PROMETHEUS unbound. Such a sucker to get tied up, pecked at by a "murder of Crows" in the first place as all Men DO, leastways on a Paris fling with a "floozie"/lost weekend. It may be a Marital Sin but it ain't no crime? Still. Gotta hurt?

The Devil, that inner JOY, that intrinsic sluice that never quite bleaches your conscience, and South of Capricorn where they say the - sink/toilet - CIRCLES "lefty", a Devils foot to keep U on your toes; like writer Henry Miller on tiptoe before he got a dose. WOTCHAGONNADO!? Nobody knows. Better your "dick" falls off AFTER U die. Hopefully not before...South of Capricorn.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Super-Moon!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Super-Moon."

(dedicato: Carol Aniello)

When the Super-Moon is gone & U lost your Song & that longing feels like U don't belong, U can turn to Me.

When the tides gone out, your sailboat will never crest a wave, that kiss-a-wind, U can turn to Me.

When that silly-guile fails to smile, that Xmas tree fails to beguile? This time (betcha-boogie!) U can turn to Me.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize: "Cosi Fan Tutti!" (Après' Mozart)

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Cosi Fan Tutti!" (Apres Mozart)

DON ALFONSO & DESPINA ARE not dead, they're just sleeping within your desires, your passions, occasionally making mischief as all our good DEMONS are tempted to do.

Don Alfonso & the maid, Despina, the servants of our Souls; there to stir the bouillabaisse, a plate or 2 for your guests, the ones U choose, an EGO'S curry, yet just where does it lead; no-one knows: Arias abound! 

Don Alfonso & Despina, an entwined super-spy, the James Bond TWINS, Shaken AND Stirred to Rock & Roll your "droll" which plagues your platitude, an Eagle in a Cage; what classic duo could ever restrain your rage or stem the tide, beach footprints U left behind?

Don Alfonso & Despina. STEREO! Ear to ear! Calculus! Shaving cream! Pasta sauce! Do we ever go shopping/get all we need? Milk. Eggs! CONDOMS!!!...We always rely on a pretty song? "Cosi fan tutti", our crazy GIG, along with Shakespeare's "Hamlet", sometimes Love's grave we dig.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.