Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "A bigger splash!"

 

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "A bigger splash!"

... Gotta write quick, sittin' on the patio. I live by the shore. Marine weather coming in on fast, talking Caribbean tropical rain, downpour stuff!...

"A BIGGER SPLASH" (après painting by David Hockney.)

"A Bigger Splash."

There's Whisky in the JAR-O but the veins on this Ol' "TIN HORN" stand out like a surgeon's graph, A GERONTIAN yet still got a pulse, no-one 'round here to share the crazy past.

Still! I got 2 CATS, "Bela" & "Soldier". We discuss Guiardief & P.D. Ouspensky - Russki-Philosophers. (In search of the Miraculous?) It's a One-sided conversation. I can hardly get a word in: "MEE-OW! MEE-OW!"

Food, a ROOF, and a sense of security... In Search of the Miraculous I guess comes later. They don't teach U that in School. B & S have serious - PURRING - opinions. I keep my head down.

We sojourn, vino, beer, whisky in matching leotards - CATS dressed up too! -by the swimming pool hoping for a bigger splash. A bigger SPLASH! A big "MEE-OW!" to U.

c.2025. DAve Delacroix.

c.dave delacroix, 2025. 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "The BEAT of the NIGHT! /KOWLOON."

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix, "The BEAT of the NIGHT/KOWLOON."

(dedicato: Fellow CANCER Survivors.)

"The Beat of the Night/KOWLOON."

....IN THE BEAT OF THE NIGHT, a timbre of Moon...DRUMS a'raging, Kids goin' NUTS (Why shouldn't they?). A B/W. FILM NOIR! Nobody got murdered, blackmailed, divorced... though the JURY is still out on the latter?

 In the BEAT of the NIGHT where LOVE begins, our foolish promises remind me of U... Please DON'T shoot the Piano player? (That Truffaut-Movie was enough!!!). 

I never took Piano lessons. Never got shot. (RUFFED UP-maybe 1 or 2 times/Usually in ITALY/Football Guys/Serbians, who started WW1! Low-Life's-wotchagonnaDO? (But not all bad.) -Jury still out... My SCARS belong to ME! (No weeping!)

....We RIDDLE AS we riddle, that rabbit pops out of a Top-Hat, a Conjurers trick. a Mandrake's kiss - mostly PHONEY-to send U down to that Yellow River, a "Nothingness", some "Ancio-River Styx", yet ALL the DEVILS - in the FOG - at some point will stare U back! -A Rice Wine seen thru the bottom of a Geishas' jar...not caring...

...as a PHANTOM SAMPAN might sail along, a soundtrack, a Mandolin player/singer stringing a lover's song. Who sings? A girl or boy, that iconic longing wailing in the BEAT of the NIGHT. 

And in the Beat of the Night, a FALLEN, somebody GUILTY of SOMETHING-WITHIN to steer ya from ya Mammy's advice

that never ever ending, surface-sea Shark's fin, that stark scream, zeroed on your TEST-TACLES, "I taught the weeping Willow how to Cry?" The Shark BITES!

Glass of Wine everybody.

...Alas, no-one survives. CASH OUT! /Just heard 'bout my LOVE'S EXIT VISA! Gotta call from 1-800-JESUS! Frickin' SYONARA!!! Later Adios, Arrivederci, Adieu, Shut UP & Die Young, etc. Outta Cash? Western-Union idiots, pedantic!!!  "Gimmie da Money!!!"

(U might be ON the Road?)

Yet the age of romance prevails... But where IS/ Where IS "ATLANTIS"!?  Myth? Legend? A Soul perhaps U buried beneath the sea? Someone U used to be/Plato's message still in a dysfunctional USPS delivery Post. That FEAST on which we yearn to FEAST:  "Boogly-googly!" Best it lies there in peace.

 In the BEAT of the NIGHT? As for today's Whisky-deliveries, a Yesterday's SHOUT, an Ol' Buddy who shows up penniless (at your door) said, "Can I crash of your couch?" or as for a Debtor's Wing, a GAL-old friend who comes back to fleece U again as history repeats? (Tomorrow's-Yesterdays!), The BEAT U EAT?

In the BEAT of the Night. The Beat of the Night. Sittin' on my Sampan. Moms & kids cookin' up rice. WOTHOCTAGOONA-Do? In the Beat of the night. KOWLOON. On my Sampan/boat-thingy: Do I set sail or lose? The beat of the night.

c.dave delacroix. 2025.

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "DEATH of an EGOTIST!"

 Our Man In Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Death of an Egotist!"

...AT THE FUNREAL no-one was really surprised when, a few gravestones afar, dressed in mourning. he showed up at his own funeral - sans microphone - so he couldn't KARIOKI himself into the grave? 

The Edwardian Frock coat I'd bequeathed him in my WILL - Yes. I was, spiritually - at this somber event also. And feeling equally DEAD as a door nail, supposing "door nails" R an issue, having a rust-free guaranteed gig, or a Life accustomed to funerals -blah-blah? 

It isn't customary - at a Funeral - to "break wind" (FART!) but when the bloke in da BOX/COFFIN semi-explodes, wotchagonnaDO!? The SMELL is contained of course but the cheap-ass coffin acts like a recording Studio-vocal Sound Booth. A tad muffled but still auditable and pretty LOUD!

 No getting away from it.  Everybody, his mourners & nearby passes-by got his final (?) sentiment. 

He was already partially soiled over. Still, no-one graveside wasn't quite sure what to do. Was he alive or dead? They'd buried him with a guitar & a bottle of Whisky. Should they DIG HIM UP or let him drink, sing a song or 2 and/or" SOD IT!" just let him lie in his bed; "Isn't he supposed to be dead?" ...A fevered-cemetery discussion ensued!

SOME YOKO mourners beat it/got the Frick outta there! (Spooky or Complex? In a hurry to secure his wealth?)

I, for One, was on the ground, DOGGO, legs akimbo, laughing my ass off! Was my DEAD BRO Beethoven, Rimbaud (French wizard Poet), Ezra Pound, Dylan Thomas (having a last joke?) It's hard to pin it down. The funerals' SOLEMNITY made the "situ" COCO-the CLOWN. Then it started to rain, the "denouement" of the final scene when an Egotist meets his Maker.

At the FUNREAL, in my mind, no-one was surprised whence, a respectable distance away a misty image in the fog & air, I SWEAR!... we conjured our departed's presence bearing a withered smile, yet still a smile; that son-of-a-bitch making his final bow.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix. 

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "A Whiter Pale of U."

 A Whiter Pale of U.

We flipped the Light-Whoosits, did the POGO on the floor, after Curry & Chips I got sick, so I called MEDICARE?

 They said find Sixteen (16) Vestal Virgins, 2 aspirin & call me in the morning No worries". I could hear - on the pre-recorded phone response the slamming of the door!

 So, being a Carpenter I built a BOX-6 feet long but thought about those 16 GALS, maybe, I might still get some "Amour"?

Of note, I never-ever get Sea-sick? I never-ever went to sea. But there's always a LADY to wreck your heart. some bounders to steal a MAID'S TOO 

is what it means -WAILING...to U & Me. In retrospect, pathetic. It's tough to let it be: A shipwrecked Heart. A double-helix of UN-knowing swarms!!!

Antidote? Forget drugs. Stick with the VINO. (Write a bloody song!)

So, being a Carpenter, I THEN built TWO 6-foot-long BOXES (just in case), stuck'em on a big shelf just in case I wouldn't be alone (U never know). 16 Virgins in TWO BOXES was gonna be a bit of a squeeze, but Love conquers all! (Who writes this shit!?)

We TRIPPED, we FLIPPED the light-fandango, we POGO'D cross the floor. We were looking for OUR "Inner-YOU", a yearning for something more. You're eyes sad and blue, your face a whiter shade of U. This Song I give to U. A whiter shade, a que.

(Singing:) "If I was a Carpenter & U were a Lady? Would U marry me anyway? Would U be my Lady..."

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "The Wings of a Dove."

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "The Wings of a Dove."

(dedicato: Sylvie @ "Alter-Simon" tavern, Freiburg, Germany.)

"The Wings of a Dove."

...WE'RE ALL OUT OF ICE CREAM, we're all out of Love, we're all out of BISCUITS, the wings of a dove -that briefly flutters ABOVE our wants & needs, a crisis, those "Handbags" at 20 paces in a tavern or on Main Street. (No Prisoners!!!) WARS ain't over till we begin to Think; yet...

...Gelato/Ice Cream, a smear on your mouth, yet the sweetest KISS when life seems to go South? (Sonorous CELLO plays...) And then! The ICEMAN COMETH!!?

SUICIDE NOTES' forensics rarely exhibit traces of Ice Cream, a Coroner's confounding; not as if the dynamic of suicide calls for a "knees-up-Mother Brown". Where-as Journalists - gossip-columnists insinuate the ice cream/tragic-romantic aspect - SWING-SWANG-SWING! - but always leave out the BISCUITS; milk & Cookies exiled to a faraway land...Maybe a mention in the "back pages". Sushi & Salad absolutely VERBOTEN! 

Did the Ice Cream delivery boy get reprimanded, hounded back to Minnesota, later to be vindicated 'cos his bicycle had a puncture PLUS he was occasionally epileptic?... (Letter from his doctor)'

The Ice Cream DELIVERY was TWO DAYS LATE. A Celebrity couple in the hands of FATE! WotchagonnaDO?  "JISATSU!" -Japanese for: "this toothpaste ain't working out." As for DESTINY'S plan? HOOP-LA!!! Hollywood is FULL of "Ass-beans", they got no other place to go.

SINGING: We're all out of ice cream, we're all out of Love. And where R the BISCUITS!? (Munchie-Munchie! PECK! PECK!) The wings of a Dove. The wings of the Dove, which briefly flutters ABOVE our wants & needs, all in all a spectrum of a weekend's eternity. YUP! For now, I'll pass on dessert.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix. November-Corozal-Belize-Ave.-temp-86 degrees-F. Might need to put on a floral T-shirt. Pass me a Beer!!!

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "California Dreaming!"

 

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

... (singing:) ...ALL THE WHISKY'S GONE

(All the Whisky's Gone!)

And the Sky is PLAID

(And the sky is plaid!)

I went for walk

(I went for a walk)

to find a BAR & Wail!

(to find Bar & wail!)

.....If I didn't tell her

(if I didn't tell her)

She'd BITCH ME OUT ALL DAY!?

(so the Story goes?)

California-Dreaming.

(California-dreaming)

Tomorrow's Yesterday.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A glimpse of glory."

 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize. Dave Delacroix: "A glimpse of glory."

A GLIMPSE OF GLORY, a spark in your mind, that cyclone-fixation-unexpected guest! That glimpse of Glory that sustains your winde festers WITHIN to fever your .... your Dinner engagements, your "happy hour", or slumming it with the gang on London's Fulham or Kings Road. There's no accounting for taste.

A touch of Glory on a battlefield. Does anyone VISIT - ON a battlefield! - (Russo-Ukraine), take a "Selfie", describe how U feel? E-mailing: "I was hunted by DRONES in the Trenches/Please subscribe to my website? ($50 please?) ...Make it quick!!!"

A touch of Glory (MUSIC VIDEO) riding the BIGGEST OCEAN WAVE, pretty much suicide for U Dumb-Ass Surf-Knaves? I had three Stunt-doubles, poor bastards - BIG WEDNESDAY! - all wiped out & died. We gave their parents some money. Their Village/Families had a big party/said "them Laya bouts> best thing they ever done!? ALOHA!"

A touch of Glory. Who'd wanna go there? Look into the labyrinth to see Death's stare? Who can in the darkness, the SHADOW, that SHUN, to see the Man or the Woman U have become? ($2 Margaritas every Tuesday happy hour.) Well, CHOICES! An' wotchagonnaDO?

 A touch of Glory. An Icarus flight. An Alexander the Great. But maybe best ...Hollywood or bust? A Kid with a Guitar? Just playing on the street.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.