Our Man in Europe/Belize, dave delacroix: "Mojave Blues."

 

Our Dude in Europe/belize, dave delacroix: "Mojave Blue."

Last Mile Sign before U can Masturbate, Food, Gas & Lodgings, no water for miles? Barstow, or RENO, no gambling nor sexuality till maybe Carson City, people DIE of Boredom, desert drive or Lake Tahoe after a while? S-where Big Franks Kid faked his kidnapping, s-where lots a HOODS, on the make, now reside? A Last Mile sign, Mojave, the USA's oblique, for Fools & Funkers; death loves a Crowd. Werewolves: Don't stray off the Path!

Last Stage-post for a Cowboy Hat, Stetsons, Tony LAMAS (boots), take Em all. Bad Songwriters, (The Eagles?) the desert's full of Em, Hollywood's (?) in awe. A ring-a-round a Poesy, welcome to the land of Immigrant-Dozy, yet a flower grows-somehow in all this scattered, desert crowd to attract Las Vegas Hoodlums; s-why, plots abound in un-marked mounds.

WITCHES! WIZARDS, the freaks U'd SHOOT if your kids brought them home? The kid-Devils from down the Street, later HOBOS bumming "Change", last desert MILE to never go likewise the "Sartorial-Elegante" in a tailored attire, adopting Shakespeare, a lofty beguile who "full throttle" sings of misfortune, "Oh woe, FRICK, sez me!", U crumble, "Alas, poor me?" too!? Last signs of self-pity. A "45 & a Spade?" No problem. Problem solved. Mojave Blues.

Last Mile, I-15, Las Vegas to L.A. the "Old highway '66" parallels your drive; a ghost yard of drive-ins, motels, gas stations, bordellos, DIVES-Cantinas to remind a SOUL of Eras gone by, wrecks of old Cadillacs, Pontiacs, Buicks PRE-mustang days, rat-pack songs, Miss KAY STARR singing: "Wheel of Fortune!", a last mile YO! in the stinking desert heat, Mojaves kiss and the ghosts that U may meet.

c.2025. davedelacroix.

OUR MAN in EUROPE/BELIZE, dave Delacroix: "Cathy come Home!"

 

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix/David Michael Oxley Esq.: "Cathy come home!"

CATHY COME HOME, from a b/w world, away from OUTSIDE, Neuveux-Noir film, Beatles bands, heavy-metal, Punk and beyond? A kind of loving for "groups/bands" with sub-intellectual ("Smoke on da Water/Stairway to whossis") dynamics though - musically - their RAH may pulse your umbilical, BONGO-Soul/Social-wrangle, the Wind cries whatsa-name or Janie's gotta gun? -perspective without impunity, Lanvin No.6, green Mohican, RAGE, a Saturday-late, Tyger-Tyger in the night?

CATHY come home; DON'T! Yet YODEL if U must, tap-dance to UN-beaten-BEATS, zap the world with your BOOGALOO or teared-waterfall your THRUSH into the world's mouth, let lesser dynamics GARGLE and then: SHOUT!!! The symmetry? Night? Rearrange! Leather or Lace. A Stiletto or a Glock 9mm? (Yet still Film-Noir?)

CATHY, UN-forgotten, left home now long ago. U make your bed where U sleep, not much here in Pasadena but still a home, a Life's "Canvasarai", a voyage to hell & back; no-one KNOW the Holy Trinity, a Girl, pregnant, a Child, a God above nor who clean-sweeps Destiny, the Man-in-the-Moon, or inherent, Love's first kiss? Full Moon's light to shine a path?

CATHY come Ho me! Greek-Roman Gods rumble SKIES across Man's blight of Righteousness, torn twix an ICON, a MANTRA, the benevolence in a mother's eyes. BE-DEVILLED, who counts Wisdom in our misery, a family, a domestic, WE of millions, as tropic bugs bite into our:

"Dadda? I married a Chinese Man!"

"Does he speak Cantonese, Mandarin?"

"No Pops. Graduated-NYU. He was born in Brooklyn!"

c.davedelacroix, corozal, belize, 2025.

Our Man in Europe/Belize: Dave Delacroix: "Come back little Sheba!"

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix: "Come back little Sheba!" 

(dedicato: your first love!)

COME BACK little SHEBA, come home, tell me your adventures, Bohemians, did they paint your portrait, a sculpture in the piazza, dedicate a poem, divine, to capture round or square, Love's promise in a frieze, iced on the cusp of tomorrow or the DARK-sequence within us, WE, a devilled-egg upon a spoon to poison-banquet of the eye, cafe-biscuit, tea & cream, that moisture, liquorice, a song to ring: Come back little Sheba, a price above rubies, elders, mere mortals. at your feet.

c.davedelacroix. jan 2025

OUR MAN in EUROPE, Dave Delacroix, Dave Delacroix: "The CAT didn't get fed!"

 

Our Man in Europe/Belize, Dave Delacroix: "The CAT didn't get fed!"

HAPPY-HAPPY! The day U DIDN'T AWAKE, the Cat didn't get fed, the Utility bill didn't get paid, Gardener, House-maid threw up their hands sayin: "Lazy Bastard! Must-a tied one on?" BUSH-MAN with Machete: "Does he want these Palm Trees Haircut?" The Girlfriend arrives needing an extra $20: "YOU! (the above) Have U seen his ASS!?" 2nd Feral Cat looking for a hand-out along with POOL GUY, Plumber & sundry Rockstars. Eventually Accountants & LAWYERS get "concerned" plus NEIGHBORS - having always EYED your GIG - fence-perusing, your Lawn-Mower, Power-washer up for grabs, the House-keepers daughter already, checking out your wardrobe, her Beau, a Chef, raiding your kitchen spice-rack and almost "En que!", distant relatives, now finding the AIRFARE descending on your TROPICAL COMPOUND to ransack your "bits & bobs", paperwork, "knicks & knacks", guitars & trombones, UN-used Condoms/whatever they can find and (uncannily- pre-alerted) REAL ESTATE parasites who KNOW U R DEAD before U R DEAD, ready to GOUGE your estates LIVING SOUL yet love fails, remiss, sad, a lone clarinet, maybe a wind-swept flute: The Cat didn't get fed!? WOTCHAGONNADO!? No worries. U R....U got it!

c.dave delacroix, jan, 2025.

OUR MAN in Europe, Dave Delacroix, "The Lullaby."

 Our Man in Europe, Dave Delacroix, "The Lullaby."

...the lullaby, that rocking, the sway, in the WOMB never leaves a subconscious too soon, lingers on to compose a poem, song, or rage or hate but DOES prevail in the cold light of Life to wither, despair, or leadership, make WAR or gathers wisdom, a sinew, tentacle to compose or decide, a spirit in its ICE or HEAT to burn the dynamic which pronounced, worthy of surrounds honored or threatened, likely too a lions cub abandoned, grounded, hungered, a thirst for Tomorrow's meat, night or day beyond that womb-lullaby, paws pat in anticipation: STRIKE! A Violin-Quartet, Mandolin, a cold Guitar at an "auto da fe" or genetic-origami to be-devil no intelligence-fathomed: "OLE!" that lullaby residing in your Soul. Wicked brew this song of songs, driving Mans nature to oblivion, destitute, again, to be re-born in the lullaby, SOUL, but more likely, pander to pander for cognac, caviar, who will bake your bread?

c.davedelacroix, corozal, belize.

OUR MAN in EUROPE/BELIZE, Dave Delacroix: "CAMINO REALE" (2025!)

Our dude in Europe, now Belize, dave Delacroix/David Michael Oxley: "Camino-Reale!" (TRUMP-2025)

...do u know the way to san jose my love, my jose, my love, dead n gone, Spanish guitar, night-wrung with his tenor, never betrayed me, jose, my love.

do u know the way to san jose, Camino reale, his footprints no longer in the sand, but his spirit-fandango, flamencos in birds swarms, dolphins dancing ashore.

i am a lowly maid in a gringoes grande hacienda, i scrape & clean. no-one notices me. i thrive in the laundry room with my dreams.

do u know the way to california, land of dreams. walls not bridges now kill my tomorrow.

c.2025, dave delacroix/david michael oxley, corozal, belize

OUR MAN in EUROPE, BELIZE: Dave Delacroix: "Soliloquy on Love!"....

Our Man in Europe/Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Soliloquy on Love."....NB: THIS "SOLLIE" should be read OUT LOUD whilst wearing PIRATE COSTUMES, the orator making SWEEPING-theatrical gestures, preferably, reasonably intoxicated. Vivaldi (?) background music maybe?

(dedicato: mi amorato Bela "C".)

"Soliloquy on Love."

..... there were summers before u were born, a kiss too, sweetness failing a poets pen, no ink or gauche brushed paint canvas to devour the magic in moment=aspic, thru crystal eye nor glint, flash, sunlight dazzle to waltz man's mind:  a sway, pedestrian, or darkness feared into light, nightmare awakening, then glad relief, a smile, a summer faced, not knowing how or kindle, man to babe returned in Loves temple's ceiling, dome  or walls ordained in faith, iconic, chanted TO, worshipped, a mindless-debutue to be later struck down, smeared, tread to ruin, powder, dust, relic, relic, memory, memory. Love's HATE, beyond compass soars, a world no more! No mortal dies before he, she has met these goals as SUMMERS own Memory, summers-before a great Lady, my love, alas, a Summer gone. Her heart entwined with mine, she now laid to rest. Whilst Knights, Kings, gracious Queens too! Lovers, starved! No Merlin-wizard can decipher mortality's rhyme, nor satisfy, nor fix: "Allor's, mes amis!" there were summers before WE began. A kiss, maybe many, but certainly more than one or two!

c.davedelacroix/davidmichaeloxley/corozal-belize, jan 2025.

OUR MAN in EUROPE/BELIZE; Dave Delacroix: "Wake Up Little SUZI!"

OUR MAN in EUROPE/BELIZE, Dave Delacroix: "Wake Up Little Suzi!" 

When your FINGERS look like Chicken wings

your MIND, someone put in a Blenda

your HEART, a Kid Spit-balled in a Bronx-gutter

your MEMORY, lonesome, a C&W Song

bout lovin a HORSE or

some Gal in Oklahome,

West of (Beyond the Law)

ENID! (Beyond GOD!)

Meeting SUZI?  ("WAKE UP!!!)

...to KNOW U have LOVED & LIVED!...

And now SHE (Suzi?) lies in her silver crypt

in Tennessee, Kentucky, in BOWS & RAMBOS

her kisses, promises

of all that could BE

her dying Suitors, a BANJO serenade... 

And a funeral pyre, your LAST 

"Guy Fawkes!"

to hurry her ONWARD to God's, MOSH-PIT

of Guitars; SUZI-dancing above your heads

"TITS-FLASHING!"

veins, blood-sinew & all,

a CORPSE above shrinking hands

that "Air-Guitar", resounding ROAR

(banket screams of horror!)

her Soul, the rictus of DEATH, 

Edgar Alan Poe, Me-thinks? -wretched, now domicile, 

a mousehole in Memories eternities hall; 

"Wake Up Little Suzi!"?

Not for the meek & tremble!

c.dave delacroix, corozal, belize.

OUR MAN in EUROPE/BELIZE, Dave Delacroix, "The Year of the Snake."

 OUR MAN in EUROPE, Dave Delacroix, "The Year of the Snake."

WHO KNOWS your Love, that kick FOOT-pedal that drives U to disaster, LEARNING or despair? In Movies?  Fritz Lang, Kurosaka, Fellini, Ingmar Bergman, Truffaut, Kid with the latest "Selfie"? My latest daydream!!?

Who knows your Love, in Japan CHINA, bloody Europe awash with UN-requited tales that cry "Mercy!" The year of the Snake, crawl, slither, pucker-up? Isolde-Abelard lost in dust. Romeo, Oh Romeo lend me your Cellphone!?

Who knows your Love, LOVE: that Stalker-emotion with a Sculptor's knife to carve the wrinkles on your brow? Brainwashed with Scriptures, Quaran's, Buddhistic religious chants make ROBOTS of us All! HAFIZ (Persia's Shakespeare-Poet), will Islam's zealots let his verses flow again?

Who SINGS of Loves residue that rests in your Soul to fester regrets, all the things that made U whole? CLASS_SYSTEM, India or England, Cricket, playing "the Game", Social repression? The RING U gave, did U get it back?

Who knew your LOVE on 42nd St., New York whoosis, Love's Song. When the new-year ball dropped, the YEAR of the SNAKE. 2025. HOPES kisses, time after time. Souls ROIL in tombs & graves, voices hoarse yet cannot be heard. A pre-paid dance: the year, LAMIA, within us the snake!

c.davedelacroix/david michael oxley, jan. corozal belize.

OUR MAN in EUROPE/BELIZE, Dave Delacroix (a.k.a. David Michael Oxley): "The Art of Blue."

Our Man in Europe/Belize, Dave Delacroix (a.k.a. David Michael Oxley -on Fb) : "The Art of Blue."

(dedicato: Daniel Valezquez Art... outta San Ignazio-Belize)

The Art of Blue.

...BEFORE THE before "after a fashion", Tomorrows Post-Tomorrow, that Guaglianone-inspiring Soul, inverted, to raise dead sparks, bursting-AFIRE! The Art of Blue.

Who wields brush strokes, ETCHINGS, Destiny, who Dance-Commander, the Art of Noise? We R not dead, we THRIVE: U kissed, U composed, a Song? Heart-broken. The Art of Blue!

Adoring the Adorable, an aftermath-after, In-between lightning-thunder, the fear in children's faces, your creative PRISM, a Caravaggio, ashes not stars, the Art of Blue in hue?

Premature: Heralds, trumpet-blast! "My Lord, the battle won, the day is yours!" WHO conjures our Fears, the Man-in-the-Moon, tears to HUZZAHS; a Song-eternal: Alive. A pulse. The Art of Blue.

c. davedelacroix, corozal, belize, jan, 2025.

OUR MAN in EUROPE/now BELIZE, Dave Delacroix: "The Art of Joy."

 

Our Man in Europe Dave Delacroix: "The Art of Joy."

....The secret life of Soldier & Bela, dancing the morning, garden-romps, climbing Palms, creating new games, RE-inventing the Art of Joy? A legacy, HISTORY, of symmetry, post William Blake's "Tyger-Tyger!", post Pharaonic hieroglyphics, all our yesterdays, a Cleopatra's pussy kiss? Priests, Buddas, Imans, Rabies, Ju-JU Men? Or that wispy "high-5" tail/nano-hypnotism prevails? -in the secret world of Soldier & Bela, sunrise in the garden, focus -any which way, enveloped? BAD CATS! BAD CATS! WotchagonnaDO when they come for U!?

A secret life, Soldier, Bela, Me, U? Swarmed (?) in mystery, snow in sunshine, unexpected, a tropical breeze, an urgence to confound THOUGHT, a feline sneeze? "Blood will Out!", Mans aches, all pain to cease on the cusp of an idea, conceptual: the Art of Joy, an ephemeral, a sinew, the red BATMAN phone, not in the sky, in your Soul, "RING! -RING!" (This is Jim Rockford on da whoopsies) that mood, that groove, that (remembered) "kiss & tell"; BAD CATS! BAD CATS! Call 1-800 Suicide-Ward, spill the misery, Heinz Baked Beans, no secret after all.

Whose secret life? Secret!? -Gypsy-Rose-Madame on Ventura/Woodman/Sherman Oaks, under the over-pass, does a daily $10 Special. All U need to know bout the next 20 minutes! ($10 poorer!), a Cleopatra-Crystal Ball -all shawled over - a Lava lamp, 3 at least in mellow lighting, SIX CATS to PURR U into penury, yet beyond this Mystic BOOGALOO, incense-sticks notwithstanding, your inner enigma LIPS pucker to emulate Soldier & Bela dancing in the garden, not ONE Credit Card between Em!!! Madame-Whossis owns a Villa in 29 Palms next to Bob Hopes'!

"Tyger-Tyger! Bloody Night. Fish N Chips, Smoke Em if U got Em! Soldier & Bela, Cats at night; eyes become iris NEEDLES to ferret out lies from truth, dark into light, the Art of Joy awaits the sunrise, their Joy's reward. A secret life to PURR into life the comfort/joy they bring. Angels smile over our confusion: "NO PURRING PLEASE!"

c.2025, dave delacroox, corozal, BZ.

OUR MAN in EUROPE/now BELIZE; Dave Delacroix/a.k.a, david michael oxley (WANTED in only 6 Countries for telling jokes): "The Grande Illusion."

OUR MAN in EUROPE/now BELIZE, Dave Delacroix/a.k.a. david michael oxley (WANTED in only 6 countries for telling jokes): "The Grand Illusion." (lamb dressed as mutton)

 ...lamb dressed as mutton, mutton for wine we sing our (cancer) survivors song, a death, twix birth n NOW, health, drunken n good cheer to echo-herald for all our kids-become to lighten their fears. HUZZAH -me Lads! Song of Songs. AVANTE!!! The Grande Whoosits!

..."Anacreon" in heaven we raise our glass to thee, to salute all our follies, the men we thought we'd be, as for that pretty dress, le je nais cest quoi, that bewitching banshee, lamb for mutton, a soldier's song, Society,

which pictorial, Cricket-match NO HINT of War's disability, the crippled -survived, hide-a-way rural mansions, row on row, of face-burnt, one-legged youths, dormitory beds, row on row still dreaming of Francine, Adele, my LOVE! Where did she go? She never writes. WW1, WW2, Today!

A Medal for Mutton, an award for a lamb, dead Gogol Souls; COUNT EM!!! Any Messiah, ALLAH, bereft of tears, bewildered, why lamb murders mutton, beer or wine, songs to sing IN our own time, by a GOD, in Sha-allah, but mostly DA MONEY, Man's History: Narcissus, a mirror of greed, EGO beyond caricature! As lamb...

...lamb dressed as mutton, mutton for wine, we sing our survivors-song, twix birth n NOW, health, drunken n good cheer to echo-HERALD for all our kids to lighten their years. Song of Songs. The eternal cigarette, medicinal WHISKY, or heaven on earth: The grand illusion.

 Unseen power behind the power U see steering the Trireme, oar by oar, we DO row. ANECREON!? We prevail, drink & think of us as we of thee!

c.2025.davedelacroix. cancer-thingy improving. might make aged 70. whoa.

OUR MAN in EUROPE/now BELIZE, Dave Delacroix (a.k.a. david michael oxley esq.): "The Mariachi!" (Bandolero)

 Our Man in Europe, Dave Delacroix: The Mariachi!

(Dedicato: Jason Eklund/Bandolero-his CDs on Utube)

The Mariachi!

The STAB, the POKE, the GIG, the stroke, the hug, the KISS, the digital MISS, that wish, YOUR INNER that goes, not beyond a laptop/phone message, a SMILE, Chanel No.5, a memory in psycho-whoosits, may as well be AROMA-Cat food?

That LAMB CHOP, succulent in a photo, steaming FRIED-VEG, carrots and all, the thoughts U get, masturbating-frantically, when U try to remember, like birds coated in an Oil Tankers shipwreck, stuck in some seashore hell? Lament!?

The Wishbone, XMAS dinner, the blood of ANY Martyr U care to choose on a Cross, big "X", T-Bone crucifix, fashions change, the dialogue-weary, the outright desperation of AGE, from golden times, when a Dime was a Dime, songs-sung, lauded Mariachi, guitar, sombrero, smiling disappears?

O-LORDY, encore on Encores will the applause never end, the Plays debate of the Plays DEBATE before Act 111 is over, the costumes disrobed, the fevered brow, wan, the flower, BUBBLY popped! The adulations, crowd, the Fife, Drum-Timbrel, a Mariachi, out on his alley-ear? 

A LIMOSINE to carry a DREAM some place and ALL "groovies", Society's fleeting embrace; a torn WISDOM upon a face, dressed in Yesterday's rags, icons-tinsel, lines, cosmetics, souvenirs of mountebanck, Mariachi, engulfed by the highways once commanded?

Laid low the fervent Lover/Knight, subdued the Soldiers of the Night. Song begets Songs to wrench-sense from dark to light! A Mariachi to sing your tune? NET, radio, Vinyl, Jukebox, an echo, the whisky-dram from the next, cheap-ass motel room ...soundtracks your destiny.

c.davedelacroix, jan 2025/corozal-belize.

OUR MAN in EUROPE, Davew Delacroix. "Corner of your Heart."

OUR MAN in EUROPE/Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Corner of your Heart." 

(dedicato: Loic de Vauvert-Guillard/fellow Poet)

STUCK AT THE AIRPORT, Bureaucratic Fucks slither your Soul, I.D. Poverty, chased, Life's guilt ON THE RUN, A corner of your Heart. A Paper WALL, but Tyrants, NAZIS, roles change with afternoon-Tea. Life's WUNDER-BRA, NO tits at all!

DESTITUTE, living under a highway bridge in SEWERS neath LAS VEGAS glitter, in Paris, the "Streets of London" where-ere U, YES YOU!!!..Your literary domain, in vain, hookers & rogues, U gotta corner, someplace, shelter, food, David Copperfield: I was BORN! Heart's CORNER: despair?

STUCK at an airport-IMMIGRATION, a barrier, Life/STUNTED,  or Life's Food Stamps-if lucky, a queue for SOUP-GIGs, hand-outs, that broken GUITAR the Street Busker sings your plight, Songs-UN-thought TO DEVIL!!!? TOMORROW wrings its hands in RAGE; that corner of your Heart, You.

c.davedelacroix, jan.2025, corozal-belize.