Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Songs, A DUET for None!"

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Songs, A Duet for None!"

(...apres French Poet, Guillaume Apollinaire)

"Songs: A Duet for None!"

(1) ...U CAN'T TAKE IT WITH YOU when U go. (U. R. DEAD!) U can't take it with U when U go. Ya Daddy's dead & gone, ya Momma sings a mournful song. U can't take it or FAKE it when U Go. Sons & lovers scramble for your gowns?

U can't take your trinkets WHEN U GO, your TIARA, your velvet gown, your "bits & bobs", your favorite Clown, nothing GOING, WOTS UP!? -where U' gonna go? It's a Solo Gig. (Mortal Coil/shuffle-off etc.) No-one comes back again.

As for my kisses, my hugs, the Worlds sunshine that wrangles/inspires a living mortals Soul. U can't take it with U - including the Maserati! - when U go. And the smart Villa on the Costa Brava/cut price deal/should 'a sold it before the market-crash, leastways before your "over-dose"?

(2) ... I SAID, WHISKY will make a blind man sing da Blues. I said that bottle'll will make a Man into a Mule!  Don't U go out tonight, we'll hold our bodies tight; I said Whisky will make a blind man sing the Blues. (Bad night on the floor of Station-Gare du Sud/headin' Bordeaux/Gendarmes-involved). Whatever.

Don't ya EVER go downtown without ME Don't U ever go DOWNTOWN without Me! Gotta bottle & a dream, I crossed the seven seas, no-one'll BELIEVE ME when I tell 'Em what I've seen.

I said, Whisky'll make a blind man SEE the Stars. Walking down the Bois de Boulogne with a white Cane. A Cabaret Style, a cursory-lipstick smile & the RAT-A-TAT-TAT to disturb U, if not beguile.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize - near Mexico - Dave Delacroix: "Chewing Gum for your mind."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A chewing gum for your mind..."

...SHE LOVES U SHE LOVES U NOT, a four-leaf IRISH Clover to tie U in a knot; lot's' a jokes 'bout this. Lotta jokes 'bout fools who fall in love? Lotta Mandolin rain.  Lotta moments insane. That kiss by the factory wall, a dirty old town? And goodbye Brendan & farewell Sean. The bang of the drum. Our Cause forlorn. Our worn-out clothes.

(And still I remember those towns I loved so well...)

She loves ya NOT, she loves U true> Eileen, Geraldine, that emerald-Isle-blue. With Gaelic bagpipes bursting, horses racing cross a County Mayo beach & granny's fixing supper but OUT of potatoes. The FAMINE struck. "Go West young Man!" to Liverpool, then the U.S.A."It's not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me but me darling when I think of thee."

(And still I remember those towns I loved so well...)

She loves U Nay, she might just stay when I come back home in GLORY, so long awaited!. She might SING A BANSHEE SONG; she might still be alive; U bang the drum slowly...I am on my way. But she died whilst I was away & the bagpipes, tins & whistles, a premature burial. AS decades pass, a century or 2, who carves out history's cruelty? A chewing gum for your mind. Some solace in the new world?

(And still I remember those towns I loved so well...)

So goodbye Brendan & farewell Sean, PETE in Caven town, and Geraldine, the Queen of the emerald-Isle. I bang the drum slowly for Eileen, Geraldine, me & my own.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man In Europe/Now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Stone."

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

(dedicato: Vladimir PUTIN)

"The Stone."

.... must be nice to be evil, NO WORRIES WHERE u GONNA BE-GONE? no REMORSE, JUST A CONCOURSE OF ALL THE hell u BEGUN? did u ever not send KIDS to DO your dirty work, did U ever have a sweet kiss> did U not send KIDS to WAR? Must be nice to be EVIL, a Plague, a SIN, all yours. Your dark bliss?

Must be nice to be EVIL, that anaconda-reptile smile. Where-from your "in-herent", that beaten into YOU as a child? Maybe or just generic? OH, it's not my fault, I sent Cossacks to their death. And the death-Camps, burning corpses. Who wants to count the rest?

Must be NICE to reside in splendor, must be nice, in comfort, to die alone. No bells RING, and there's that thing, alone, alone, alone. Catch ME! Catch me in the sky. A universal question: Catch ME the question "WHY!?" But there's no kisses on a stone. And MOMS will always weep.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, SPY versus SPY, Dave Delacroix: "Lill' Ol Bi-Polar Me!"

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, SPY versus SPY, Dave Delacroix: "Lill' Ol Bi-Polar Me!"

(dedicato: Charles Delafay, "PPS to the Queen MOM, 1970s/80s, also known as "Frenchie"/my BRO!)

"Lill' Ol BI-Polar Me!"

THEY AIN'T WRONG, I TOO ain't wrong. UN-expected "Day Guests?" Lill' old Bi-Polar me. Nobody seems to sing the same song, everybody's on their phones...like U R not there?

GROWL!!!

The WORLD ain't wrong. It just moved along; God bless our parents, GRAND PARENTS who probably KNEW, resenting as WE, sing the same old song: "Planes & Boats & Trains go passin' by" U ask me why?

I TIP & DIVE!

... Step outside your Theater. DO NOT mention the "Scottish Play" less we send U outside, U must turn around THREE TIMES so U can come back, join the gang again. There IS no God... Sympathy? It comes at a cost.

...Sadly too, there AIN'T NUTTUN' wrong in your Psyche-Dialysis - that maybe a bottle of Whisky can't cure? - it'll get U calm or beaten up in a Bar; there's always some Nemesis who says: "Let's take this outside!".... (Kickboxing? What's WRONG with these people!?)...

...by which point instant sobriety (The guy's SIX FOOT-FOUR) comes to your aid. Your best punch-Ups R the ones U never engage. Yet "Once more into the breach Me-Lads!" .... Lill' Ol Bi-Polar me!"

c.2025. Dave Delacroix. Life sometimes can be UN-forgiving!

Away, away, come aolo9ng with mw & we'll build u7s a hou7se in the mead0ow,,,,

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "BELOW the SALT!"

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix Esquire: "Below the Salt!" 

WE HAVE NOTHING except the clothes on our backs. The Duke, once in a while throws us a bone like we R dogs. We, if invited banquet, sit "below the Salt" yet when it comes to battle, the fighting, cannon fodder, we R in the front line.

We have little, no pension, no score; Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest seems HE gets ducats galore? My Long Bow at "Crecy" my Long Bow at "Agincourt" for a Prince of my Country, I wonder what for...

So, there I WAS rehearsing Pergolesi's "Stabat Mater" (Roughly translated: "There was an old woman from Swansea!") & I with throat cancer, /early Rod Stewart tonality, reasonably penniless, I UN-hook a Guitar off my bedroom wall, todays LONG BOW, stretch a string or 2 & fire a song into the night & aim wistfully at the moon...

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

Gotta FULL MOON IN Mah POCKET, a SUN around my head, ORION"S BELT around my whoosits, a UNIVERSE in Mah head. Gotta POLAR STAR I keep in a jar, I'll show it U some time.

 I gotta INTERNET that no-one's ever meta-met and I ain't texting with U... As for PONCE DE LEON & his fountain of YOUTH, wotchagonnaDO?

...NO SMART PHONE's gonna get U HOME, no APPS, no Guitar Foot-Pedal? Your voice is ya VOICE, REJOICE! -yet perhaps no-one will hear? Is this what U fear?

Gotta full moon in mah jacket less the rain it comes along. Snow boots in da closet, an old guitar to sing a song. Gotta a crazy past, a doubtful tomorrow, donating BAGS of Joy & Sadness to the GOODWILL County store.

Still. Gotta full moon, any way U look at it. It stares US in the face. That "SELFIE" U wish your buddies would erase. "Who knows where the time goes?" (Sandy Denny/Songwriter), old photos stuck on the kitchen "fridge", a portrait on your bedroom wall, friends won or gone & that full moon - look in your wardrobe/it's in an old coat pocket somewhere - lost?

Gotta FULL MOON in mah POCKET. A'mah thinking 'bout AEROBICS BY PROXY. Or SKIING the "Mahogany-Ridge", sucking on SOME "trip da light-fandango", arguing at the BAR: "U IZ WOT U IZ!" And as I say, when U got a FULL MOON in ya Pocket?  Argument? ....U can't lose! Getting a free brewski? Probably not.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "A MURDER of Crows."

 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "A Murder of Crows."

IN THE BEAT OF the NIGHT, a murder of CROWS: CAW! CAW! CAW! In the beat of the Night, your lonesome NAME don't count nuttin' at all. (In da beat of the Night.).

In HEAT of the DAY, funny how sometimes it gets away from U? One day she's there, next day she's gone away? And in the heat of the Night, Whisky-Blues!

In the BEAT, that resounding, that reverb, that ECHO how U shouted your "farewells", trashed furniture, smashed mirror, clothes thrown out upon the street, she strode off into West Hollywood & said "hope we never meet!!" (Again).

Again & again, who rhymes & reasons the sphincter of LOVE that opens & closes like, well, the wings of some white bird always hovering, swirling

 less the beat of the Night comes to PROMETHOUS BOUND to peck at your heart gizzards ripped out, by a murder of Crows: CAW! CAW! CAW!

c.2025. Dave Delacroix. (Hello FULL MOON! -rising above Corozal bay-Belize!)