Our Man in MONEY/OOPS! /In EUROPE/Dave Delacroix: "...Walk this way before."

 Our Man in MONEY/OOPS! /In Europe/Dave Delacroix: "...Walk this way before!"

(Song.)

...Money in my pocket but it won't last long? -I've walked this way before. Photo of a GIRL in a chain locket, does she know the score?

SO many times, U've walked my way? So many words we never say; tomorrow & tomorrow but never name the Day & walk this way before.

...Say U'll be THERE but never come I've SEEN this place before. Barely walk but promise to RUN & run & run & run.

"Ich liber dich!" -but somehow miss the magic U embrace?... I never wanna walk this way again; please walk & walk away.

Money in my pocket but it won't last long, I've walked this way before. Photo of a Lady in a chain locket; does she know the score? And so many times you've walked my way, so many words we never say, tomorrow & tomorrow but never name the Day & walk this way before. And walk this way before.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The ZENITH of your Zoom!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The ZENITH of your Zoom!"

...THE ZENITH OF YOUR ZOOM, how did it begin, a time when OUR Love filled the room "dans le Champs d'Elyese" when, fashionista U wore flowers in your hair, adapted Elton John stack-heeled shoes to elevate/promenade your "raison-d'Etre", a GIG most mere Mortals can only dream of? "Caviar, le déjeuner, Cognac/Cafe-Noir. C'est Soir?" (Easy on the Dijon mustard when we're kissing!)

How does it begin? A Mandrake root plucked from the womb/SCREAMING? Or a CHILDHOOD inner-thrust within your Soul or GOD-GIVEN-DIAMONDS in your CEREBRALISM, "avec" sometimes, UMBILIC, fatally UN-decided TO BE U on ITS own volition decide to Un-wind, (ENCORE!) failed Love, failed ambition, a self-addressed appalling cacophony of disillusion, an epiphany too late to un-wind the turning of Life's SCREW!? (Escargot? No problem, Sweetie-Pie! Easy on the Garlic!)

(Singing: "AH MET mah Million Dollar Babee at the (Le Cafe) FIVE & DIME!!!) (In New YORK?) Relax! Nothing on this subject is likely to make sense?

A veritable Classic perception. Far from an Impressionist's work. Manet, Monet; a SEURAT, or more blatant, the painting, THE KISS - full of Gold, Silver; the Austrians not only produced Adolf Hitler but GUSTAV KLIMT! Perhaps an inevitable potpourri of the Zenith of your ZOOM, likewise, as for Love? - a doom/ZOOM!? 

Within or without for the Love that once filled your room? Un-prepared, we sit on fates fragile throne, just plain destiny: Why is it we always arrive too soon? (Boulebais? Yes. Occasionally there ARE compensations!) Most folk I know R in need of a Spoon!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "All our Yesterdays!"

 Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "All our Yesterdays."

...WE NEVER REMEMBER THE NAMES OF CRIME- SERIAL KILLER -VICTIMS, only their MURDERERS (Jack the Ripper? Wayne Gaisy, Green River Dude!), their Bios/photos/terrible childhoods (sic.) -FRONT PAGE! But not their Victims. Society does not honor them with a memorial, village green statue/Law Enforcement's failure? Nor name the MASSES, holocausts, victims of Terrorism. No-one is untouched, historically by this Global guilt, instigating or suffering from!

We never remember (U.S.A.) Presidential "ALSO-RAN" candidates, just the ELECTED scoundrels who play Poker with your Tax dollars. But on a personal level, we hardly ever cherish our OWN lifetime's successes, victories, failures in the 11th. hour clouded with (the Scottish Play) SINS or regrets?

We never get to wash away ("OUT, damned spot!!!") our devious ways & (perhaps?) as if GOD's (If there IS one) altruistic cloud, even on the INTERNET, adverse-somehow prompting to stymie inner-CONSCIENCE: "Please do not walk on my Lawn?" OR Devils in our heads: "Piss off! I'm in a meeting!", "Let's do Lunch! Next year!", or "Alles Verboten!"? As for "Overseas"? "BOMBS-AWAY IRAN!/Keep my gasoline CHEAP!...It ain't mah business!".

...And as we NEVER remember...what we DON'T want to remember (all our yesterdays) the names of those innocent folks who WE or our forefathers, we have directly/indirectly wronged, discriminated-against or EXSTERMINATED; who can BARE their identity, our sometimes ($$$!) wicked deeds, ON RECORD exposed in a future Poet's song, and as a postscript, a TOME, list upon lists of highlighted Victims Names! "I was just obeying ORDERS & singing Societies Song!" Will there ever be a time, a GENERATION likely to do no wrong?

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Limping Man."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Limping Man."

...HAVE U EVER BEEN TO XANADO, TIMBUCTOO, or Katmandu or Boulogne-Sur- la-Mer? Have U ever said: "Depend on me!", "I'll pay U back! (Honest!)" or, as faint heart never won fair maiden, omitted to say: "I love U!". (Whilst mandatory groveling, pretty much: (Fr.) "de rigeur!", (GER) "Ab befielh!", (ENG) "Get on ya frickin' knees!"). EVE (as in Adam's Rib) will, to THIS day always be Queen of the Apple Tree!

...Can't help feeling/thinking there's a Hound Dog aspect to this moment: "WOOF! -WOOF!" -Tongue panting? An Odyssey/CIRCE's pigs-wallowing situ.?

Yet, it's ONLY the Lonely who compose our fave songs for the CRIPPLES which, I guess, mostly, somehow, mostly who we R. And it's only the tongue-tied/frenzied-in-love's grasp, uncannily, defines this emotional labyrinth of paradox. Existentialists in search of The Maltese Falcon, the lost Biblical Ark of the Covenant, Ponce de Lyon's Fountain of Youth or that important letter - marked FRICKIN' URGENT! - gone awry at the Caen's (France) Post Office? A majesty in "Gob-smack-confoundation", the limping man abroad. Corpses-whittled bones litter civilizations roadsides!

...Incidentally, after viewing the Bayeau Tapestry have U ever queued up at the CAENS (France) Post Office? -A notorious edifice of government-functioning imbecility, your correspondence sure to be lost. DECEMBER-7th, 1941: "The JAPS R GONNA BOMB PEARL HARBOUR!!!" -no worries, Monsieur! We sent it PAR AVION/Airmail, but the Mail plane is in the SHOP? 

Have U ever - in your despair - WAILED at da MOON!?... I wouldn't worry too much. U R a JANITOR, right? Me too. So just limp along with your broom.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "MOJO!!!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "MOJO!!!"

...MAH "MOJO" AIN'T WORKING ANYMORE, my MOJO GAT-NO-MOJO anymore! Clear signs! -I ain't ejaculating any sincere-Literary concepts, no ERRECT-stalwart - thank God I'm British! - opiniated/reasonably non-racist/non-fascist a 'la diatribe Blogposts by the score? In fact, I'm just "penile" flagging (old age or just too much booze?), getting the SWEATS, drooling over non-overseas travel & past erotic assignations, hotel lobbies, strangers on a train or hitch-hiking w/guitar, belladonnas U R likely/supposed to meet? (Farewell cruel World!)

...It's always (can be) HARD to be a son - even worse for a Gal - to be the spawn of a Preacher-Man. U grow up having to sing all those dreary Psalms/Songs: "Onward Christian Soldiers, marching off to God knows where?" And no wonder ISLAMISTS think we R Kebabs to be culturally devoured, stiffing our buffet/fast food/kiosk servings "sans" (without) Lettice, tomato, Chilli-sprinkles, to think ALLAH gets to score a World Cup Soccer winning goal? (In ya DREAMS!!!)

...I wonder about DAT!...I wonder about that?...Then I resolved to have myself a BEER, a concoction the ancient Egyptians (Pre-Islam!) enjoyed & recorded (Hieroglyphics) to keep their MOJO on top of their MOJO, perhaps crazy in their OWN sometimes desperate Times? Persian Poet HAFIZ (A Shakespeare/Dante/Homer/perhaps a touch of Baudelaire?) writes/WARNS! ..."Do not play with a Tigers Cubs nor rob a young woman of her illusions!" But notably absent in his majestic works - probably getting loaded on Brewskies - he never addressed his MOJO NOT or "in full gear" working! And Whisky-in-the-Jaro! But what da heck! Hemmingway writes: "The Sun also Rises!" And my OWN  MOJO still got Tomorrow!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Kiss of Joy!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Kiss of Joy!"

...JUST A MELANCHOLY MOMENT, just a melancholy Girl. Just a melancholy ZIG-ZAG, the progress she made? Just a melancholy fortune she found in her Night; Melancholy dreams R all we-re about.

...She found her Mission in her passion that no-one can deny. A price above rubies, her ZEALOUSY, no limits, that girl will always reach for the sky!

Just a melancholy moment, a kiss U don't understand. A melancholy kiss of joy, her World in God's hands.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. (For all girls/Ladies subject to Religious, Cults & barbaric Islamic suppression.)

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Dolphins in the Sea."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Dolphins in the Sea."

...YOU KNOW WHEN U R INTER-NET ADICTED if U got "Inter-net CLAW" (Clenched fingers -hovering above L.T. keyboard, "jonesing" for another coffee; your urinal-sphincter hanging on tight when U desperately need to PISS!) Should I diagnose more? 

Post traumatic L.T. CLAW syndrome THERAPY is, predictably not freely available on Medicaid (USA) or National Health (LOL) in Britain. Unlike booze or smoking it's suggested U just get dead. Save the government a fortune. But in YOUR case? Just get Off-line! (U still gotta decade or 2 that the powers-that-BE can milk U.)

In ancient ROME the LADS (pre. L.T. Claw-syndrome) endured an a-like situs. such as holding onto their GLADIS (sword) instead the of their - under-TOGA - TEST-TACKLES only later to find it really didn't matter once LIONS were let loose with U into the Coliseum arena; Sword or BALLS, no therapy on hand: Issues! Issues! Issues! (Everybody ROARED!!!) Bright young things TEXTED one another on clay tablets?

And as for Roman poet OVID who satired Augustus Ceasar, everyone & his dog and all the powers that be? His "magnus-opus" METAMORPHOSIS, sensitively, I think touches upon TEST-TACKLES & quite insightful regarding the future curse of the Computer Lap-Top Claw! (He was duly exiled to the Black Sea.) Slightly more lenient that Moscow's Lubianka torture chamber or a U.S.A./C.I. A. "black bag OP." -U disappear? (Shortage of rampant Lions? Or ISLAM takeover of Western Culture/not enough Christians?)

OH! FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE! Don't pin ME down. Let's not argue. We R REMOTE correspondents; as REMOTE (as can be); & a zillion REMOTE jokes/all eyewitnesses, as controversial a 'la the Music-Fame racket: For example: Whose/which band NAME came first!? - The Hatfield & McCoys battle: "Naz Nomad & the Nightmares? GINNY & da Tonics? (These/name-copyrights are fought over to this day!) Worst of all? Who is going to own up for composing the Pop song: "The soggy biscuit of your Love."? (Certainly NOT Me. I was in Chicago! Honest!!!)

All Poets R doomed to dwell in, yes, that (Rimbaud) "Season in Hell", perhaps a self-sacrifice, from HAFIZ to JOHN DONNE who BOTH touched upon life's joys & uncertainty. Not with standing, the - your view not mine - the subject of sexuality, self-abuse, frantic masturbation as to then HIGHLIGHT the WHERE or WHEN WE BEGIN as opposed to that far off horizon (Bobby Darin singing:) "Somewhere across the Sea"...but in the END (Fred Neil singing:) "I've been searching for the Dolphins in the Sea." And as a postscript, sometimes whatever our troubles, within reason (The Beatles:) "let it be."...It's a WONDER we just don't thank this miracle of Life, its blessings: The dolphins in the sea.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.