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

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

...I SKIPPED the light-fandango, I said "Frick off " - this Hollywood chore? I was feeling kind'a seasick, a lack of interest, the Hatfields & the McCoys! Hippie-Gangsters, sweet talking reptiles: LORDY-LORDY! Wrap U in their coils. Away your venom. Don't bring it to my front door...

I said there is no reason, I thought a while then picked my nose. Then I skipped the light fandango, did cartwheels cross the floor? And as for those 16,000 virgins which I never ever saw...who still haunt me in my Winter dreams, a crowd calls out for MORE!...

Nothing sacred, nothing caring, drunk upon the bar room floor as the Angels sing: "Ding-a-ling-a-ling!" Intrinsic Thought exudes from every pore! We pine for our lost Loves. Dostoyevsky's "Devils", lost yet clinging to the light, that fantastic light of Man.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize (on Fb: David Michael Oxley); DAVE DELACROIX: "A Touch of Dante!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "A Touch of Dante!"

...SHUFFLE OFF THY MORTAL CARCASS whence Imagination never ends. GO-WEST young man, catapult into outta-space. THINK the THOUGHT, a "Ponce de Lyon", searching for the Fountain of Youth awash on some distant planet or shore, leastways some abstract plane; that Ego temptress to envelop your life - illusions prevail - your Time, your space. Mostly chewing gum for your mind.

SHUFFLE OFF thy mortal-coil-whoosits, WRING-hands the grasping of your yearning, your SOUL, that inner - clothes washing machine - got an agitator which makes U whole, acts like U R clean, without Sin...to define what serves an honest mind? Yet then, broken, to un-wind? (Plumber/Engineer on holiday?) Is Destiny so un-kind to GOBSMACK U with a sloppy kiss, never mind the fricked up laundry?

Shuffle OFF your Abercombie, shuffle off your Rolls-Royce car, shuffle off your Royal robes, off with rings-a-finger, ("OUT DAMED SPOT!!!/Lady Macbeth) let some other fool adopt your role/NUTTIN' U can take with U when U "GO!" -that 3rd circle in Dante's Hell, over-crowded with killers & lawyers...and the whole bloody bunch won't let U in!? Go figure.

Singing: "We will gather at the river, the beautiful, etc..."

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Night Birds!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Night Birds."

NIGHTBIRDS ON PATROL, the Usual Suspects. Nuttin' U need worry 'bout, no need to "E-T" call home. Lonesome, lonely, dick in your pants, GALS more John Wayne than half the dudes U ever met. Just Nightbirds, kids, Moms, Grandmas who got that other SLIDE what "Day birds" in shock, makes 'em feel like ice? And a' Woking, an epiphany to crowd a crowded mind that Nightbirds long since left behind...

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

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

 1) "The Table."

...The Linguini went South, Old friends? -somewhere in the ETHER, that stuff DENTISTS stuffed down your mouth to kill U with brutal indolence! ...Only your UN-conscious screams? Memories-trinkets.

(Planes & Boats & Trains...)

That Linguini, the tune on the tip of your song, a dawn's Un-forgetting, just who KNOWS Loves' "EY! -CARAMBA!", cut, sliced, pasta-pommeled, "A preta'-porta/ready to wear", such R our frivolous songs. Brigitte Bardot?

(Planes & Boats & Trains...)

The Linguini went South; a POLICE REPORT: Nobody's name, quite in the clear (U-MIO?) a half-cleared plate on a table where - these days - no-one comes near. Bodies here. Death there? TIPS/Gratuities for no-one.

(Planes & Boats & Trains...)

Planes & Boats & Trains, a Linguini-cheer to everyone. That flashing dynamic, that diamond a 'rattle in some-one's Un-knowing CAN, back of the drawer, some Cleaners Kid one day to find...And that round table where Knights, elegant Ladies once took their ease. 

(Planes & Boats & Trains...)

The Linguini went South. TIME'S Musical Chairs. That' ROUND TABLE. That roundabout. Beethoven's 9th Symphony ringing in your ears! But when the music ends? Below the Salt. Better make sure U gotta a Chair! 

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man...in Europe, Dave Delacroix: "The Gerontius."

 Our Man in Europe/Dave Delacroix: "The Gerontius."

(dedicato: Sir John Stanier Waller, 7th Baronet, 1917-d.1995.)

"The Gerontius."

AS THE OLD BOY, aged 103, about to expire, my uncle, by his bedside he said to ME:

..."Shuffle OFF!": (he was learned) "Shuffled OFF this mortal coil, burn my carcass, put my ashes in the soil." (I assented. Poured myself a glass of his vintage Port)) "...And let my cremation BE for all my sins, let them BURN!"... (At this point he got to mumbling, then vocally resurfaced:) "... AS I burn let all my transgression, the broken hearts I left behind & anyone I swindled, stole from, blackmailed, MURDERED, those fricks I've never forgiven who STILL owe me $20!!! my bank account number is: ".....12345", and it's never too late to pay a debt in case Cavalry has a waiting list & I come "fait accomplish", U see me ghost-like tapping my foot at your door?" (I poured myself another glass of Port) "...Yet, burning, burn my memories. Burn my travels. Burn my tales. Burn my withered dreams.  Organize an AUCTION for my Soul. I was rather fond of that Viola le Gamba. Best U burn it with me. I 'll strum it with the stars." (Imbibing was the key to this situ. so, I popped another cork without looking at the label; the old boy mumbled a tad then resumed:) "...Who if I cried out would hear me amongst the Order of the Angels!?" (I mumbled/slurred "RILKE"/the old boy smiled) "... 

The Gerontius there-in expired. I pillaged his extensive wine cellar. FLED! And never - a thought! - live with THIS forgetting neither-or OUR blankness-awaiting.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, Dave Delacroix: "Goin' South!"

 Our Man in Europe/Dave Delacroix: "Goin' South!"

(dedicato: Mon Frere Loic.)

...GOIN SOUTH!!!. S-what we do, in sickness & in Health, times we get the Blues. Goin' South in a heartbreak, that Edvard Munch PIX: "The Shout!" Goin' South with your fancy wardrobe (got nuttin' to wear?) and that Boy who pissed U off, that lipstick smear?

Goin' South, that precipice of the ABYSS beckoning. Do U resist or dive full frontal -WAIL!!! -come & get me U suckers! Yet halfway down, "OOPS!", (boogaloo) can I get back? And all those trinkets U abandoned, Clothes to the "Goodwill", "Ou sans les neige d'antan?": Where R the snows of yesteryear?

Goin' South. That turning of the SCREW, "Babes in Toyland", the stuff we never knew, in remembrance, the CROSSES, row on row from the Wars, gone before when Men against Men showed animals how stupid they R/can be on this EDEN planet since Goin' South we climbed down from the trees...

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: A CHRISTMAS CAROL in 3 parts.

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: A CHRISTMAS CAROL in 3 parts.

(1) The Bar Stool.

...The ONLY WOMAN I ever loved...now, where was I?...SO loved & SO in-love expecting nothing, awaiting - wasting-patient-impatience, the shock of fear, the fear of a Regret; do I hit my head or hold on/pee later, a lateralism of a Job interview with a sex option? Who really cares. Don't we All just ejaculate then go on home & read Dostoyevsky, a crime & punishment, a Buddhistic suicide as if THAT is not against the tenets, CHRIST! I'm so nervous/fragile I may need to hit the "crapper". Who amongst God's janitors in heaven would hear if I cried out? OUT-OUT dammed spot!...of disillusion. Do I get hammered or fall off my bar stool?

(2) BAMBI on DYNAMITE!

...Worried bout my daughter, BAMBI on dynamite. A new boyfriend, suspicious-frick, probably a musician, reasonably "homeless", a wannabe Sculptor-dude but HOLY-ALOHA, the KID we all once were?

Worried bout the light in my heart, God-damned VIRGINITY apparently - these days - ON SALE & a Daddy's crisis in full sail; U TAK to the left, U TAK to the right, progress-invisible beyond that bloody infinity, a blind on blind on blind?

DEM that aint too busy being born & them that ain't too busy dying QUEUE UP in your mystic. But it's the PITS with your KID (on galenite/explosives) feeling all U can do is watch just where the cards may fall?

That longest night, in your mind, never to find the dawn. Past promises or wishes U hope never ever come true. And alas it's NOT just about YOU!

(3) The Pianos of Yesterday.

...All (full choir!) the pianos of yesterday, thrown out, replaced by a Stereo (record player). The banjo hanging on your wall, now, furniture, no home music anymore; a laptop/P.C. wotchagoonaDO -when lost loves pain U, that stone in your shoe?

There's a high wind from Jamaica ripping thru your destiny, yet the kiss in the breeze, succinct, can David fell Goliath? As all the pianos of yesterday a' maddening, a monsoon, to rattle your "selfie" & make fragile your throne: "Circa regna tonat", as yesterday's pianos, inevitably fade away.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix. Merry Xmas folks!

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix/w-Dan Randolph: "Bacon & Beans!"

 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix/w-Dan Randolph: "Bacon & Beans!"

"Bacon & Beans."

Now this Ol' Cowboy went into town, not lookin for nutting to bring the whole town down, some quick-snapper shooter wanted to give him a stare, the Ol'boy gae him a Bacon & Beans!

(Ah said sweet water tasted better than Wine.)

Word got out there was a killer in town who never drawed his GUN, but "big shots" died.  And all he HAD was Bacon & Beans. Nobody guessed just what it means.

(Ah sad sweet water tasted better than wine.)

Ranchero Gals - with face masks ON  - started to gather around to see this NEW CAT IN BLACK who put the bullies down. "Boot Hill" running outta graveyard space, bacon & beans, their tombstone says.

(Ah said sweet water tasted better than wine.)

Not long after that Main Street got pretty quiet; quess down to those bacon & beans and the town's ensuing non-vegetarian diet. But everyone still sings of that man - in black - a flatulent hack, his killer "bacon & beans."

(Ah said sweet water tasted better then wine. Ah said sweet water taster better than wine.)

c.2025. Co-written with Dan Randolph in Cortez, Colorado, off the Devils Highway 666.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A MIRROR for your Song!"

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "A Mirror for your Song" -in 4 parts

It's confusing. The PIE on the Gate! Or never buy a Car on Monday or Tuesday or the day after the "Superbowl". And "Wish-Willy-Lizard!" -the clutter in your mind.

(1)

(Song begins/après' "The Windmills of your mind.": NEVER-ENDING, never beginning, sand-footprints on the shore, UN-expected, resurrected, that MEMORY won't GO. When that Hippy chick just grabbed U by the balls; squeaking, U exclaimed "I love U!" and passed out on the floor. Like the secrets U may find in the clutter of your mind.

The PIE hanging on the gate or just when to buy a Car, wishing "Willy-GECKO", somehow a misfit fate? Do U rage 'gainst "outrageous fortune"...or simply masturbate? The secrets U may find in the clutter of your mind.

There's no REASON, there's no SEASON to be understood, the Winter of our discontent, a blow upon a skull; an un-conscious DIVINITY like the secrets U may find, some lax-a-day epiphany perhaps... in the clutter of your mind.

(2)

DEMENTIA in the Afternoon, that GAL eye-contact who comes to SWOON and U don't remember her name, her fame surpassed U in the tide of Time like the "Big Lebowski", s-where we abide.

Dementia at the CARNIVAL where Clowns rule, intelligence be-gone, yet that intrinsic magic uncertainty floats like a "lost weekend" U once enjoyed, a "le WHOOSIT de temps perdue/Marcel Proust" getting outta bed & going to the "loo" asking were U a wise man or were U a fool.

Is nothing left, a lone battery, some offshore lighthouse in the fog, that woman U lost, the one that got away, a brotherhood broken, some silly thing, now all is clouded like dementia in the afternoon.

(3)

ON A HAPPY NOTE, I don't like living alone. No-ones THERE! No Internet. I don't live on a Phone. (It's RINGING! Can U hear it? I ain't picking that sucker up!!!) And no one comes visit, a vacant stare, far from the madding crowd, once my bone; is it laundry day?

Drink up and BE Somebody!!!

(4)

...My love made me a seafood curry with rich brown rice. I was out all day with business & worry. When I came home, she wasn't there, food all prepared on the kitchen table, poppadum', naans, the song.

...The ticking grandfather clock, the aching of cloth curtains straining in the breeze. The time went by as I surmised my Love had said "Goodbye". YUP! And as "Man is FOLLY" (somebody wrote), whisky on the shelf, I smashed a mirror for a song.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix/Happy Christmas folks!

c.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix (on facebook: David Michael Oxley): "A brief History of the SELFIE!"

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "A brief history of the SELFIE!"

...a brief history of the "Selfie", a brief history of u know who (U. R)., whose genetic double helix throughout millennia, from Madonna wooden/ivory/stone carving, CAVE PAINTINGS, thru Egyptian-hieroglyphics to inter-net influences, old family portraits on mansion walls, fading b/w Fotos on the piano or mantal, super-8 videos, a Buick backdrop, weddings, holiday snaps, kids riding beach donkeys, a candle-lit birthday.

...a brief history, the "Selfie", a nano-twinkle in the universal eye, a bunch of planets wildly dancing roud a star, the suns velocity, zooming18 zillion thousand miles (per hour?) in the heavens, we know not why, on our own zodiac mothership, EARTH, too busy pissing on our own stile.

A brief history of our "Selfie"; "Take my Selfie Foto, sweetie-pie!" I walk backwards/fall off the cliff!? And those - drama - last moments, robbing the "7-11"/some local all-night store. A Smart Phone moment, videoed dead on the parking lot - probably-corpse foto angle sideways - with inexpensive stolen goods surround like a Desperadoes rosary? Cops holster their guns.

A brief UNCTION of the "Selfie", a visual gravestone, a testament to your spirits past, now only in profile, an Egyptian-hieroglyphic, a cat's paw print upon a wall, entombed & out of sight, perhaps forever more. Yet your "Selfie" perhaps stays in your mind, that flake sense of: "immortality" and so beguile as the ROAR of HUMANITY claws & bleaches your "Selfie" Post.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

A'MAH WAITING for MAH MAN! $26 in mah hand! He's never early, he's sometimes too late, just put it down to Urban fate. WOTCHAGONNA-DO? When U R out, just a Junkie Flake. kissing cousins, a New York City 1970s GIG preview?

I'm waiting for my Man. I'm waiting for THE PLAN. Destiny is never too late, U got ya boogie, U get to dance, but when it comes, there's U in a trance. Sorry buddy. As I, waiting for my Jam, buttered toast, Marmalade, some kind of "le dejunier"/homemade! I'm a-waiting for that GAL!'

A'mah a'waiting for the MAn. That Holiest of Holiest to take me off the "lam". That Cat ain't early, and usually ($$$) he's rarely late but when a dark labyrinth stares U in the face and a'waiting for your "needle-man" comes too late on a NOT so perfect day...

..."He/She ploughs the Seas & Sows the Land." -your Junkie, junkie dealer...

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Song of Roland."

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "The Song of Roland."

WHY SHOUT WHEN a WHISPER turns a Mind around to find a brand new Winde, to startle the Day, turn your Life around? WHY WAIL, or madly-dance; all the Priests, Imans, Bhudia, Rabbis, the JU-JU-Men, those Missionaries holding the franchise of the "UN-Knowing/GOD!" who've been scalping, extorting, rabidly fooling the ignorant or folks in danger or despair?...

"AVE MARIA!" -for a few dollars more.

... Mandarins, Emperors, Kings, just CON-MEN dressed elegantly, an ARMY to empower; U take the "Dane Gold" U take the "Dane Taxes"...for the rest of your life. And NOTHING's more certain than death & taxes. A brain-death existence & Whisky galore!

 ...Sermons at the Cathedral, Muslim chants/5 times a day, BRAINWASHING!!! -spinning Budda cylindrical boxes, MORMON fantasy, Brahma posters blowing in the wind, (the Religio-Big Guns.) and an amulet on your wrist, a green Evil Eye above your door - to ward off Envy - a Rosarie to kiss, a Crucifix hanging around your neck?... (Crystal power?)

..."To find what winde to serve an honest mind..." (Poet John Donne) still (befuddles) GOBSMACKS! Seems like "Medievalism" is making a Comeback in our ATOMIC-Psyber- internet space age?... History's Prophets never advocated murder. Jet planes & Laser-Beam Satellites, DRONES of course were an inevitable option/for peaceful purposes. There's that?

"Who if I cried out!?" (Reiner-Maria-Rilke, German Poet) he wails to the "order of the Angels" suffering from melancholy or the POX; guess U gotta cry out to SOMEONE even if they don't exist? Yet IF GOD EXISTS, perhaps it's just plainly "within"? It might be IN Vegetarianism or U R NO GOOD at playing POKER, more likely a SONG-remembered, kindness-remembered, tolerance or that bruised identity which U felt denied?

As for ROLAND, a Knight of old full knowing his brothers left to sacrifice by Charlamagne-King in battle against the Islamic hordes, kissed his maiden "farewell" & joined them in Rounsaville (Spanish French border) where they all met their end.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

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!)

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The ORCHESTRA,"

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

The ORCHESTRA.

...The Bitch on Oboe, Nipples-Oh-Susannah! stole the heart of the 1st. Violinist in the Orchestra. The Mezzo-Soprano, waiting for some big-wig celeb soprano to sing/fail, maybe steal her role, "knocked-up" by the Bassoon player, apparently, some rich kid, her "andante" still not yet showing? 

The "flake" Conductor" - La Dude who stands in Stage-front/the Tuxedo ICON who frantically waves his Arms all about - can take his Orchestral-GIRLIE-GOUPIE-PICK except HE'S GAY; he's in love with "drummer-boy" out back on "Kettles"!? (Big Drums.)

As for THE CHOIR, all FIFTY SINGING SOULS surrounding the Orchestra, belting it out IN FULL GUSTO but downright INCESTUOUS; can't tell the Fags from the Castratos? (Does it matter?) The ladies dilute all focus. Who can guess the Jazz between the Blues? (Put a LID on it?).

Yet orchestral backstage "fumbles" in taffeta & tuxedoes; who's 'a guessed twix "Oratorios" or an elongated "Fugue"? Panting in the Dressing Room! All Orchestras have their OWN requiem, that off-stage urgence, a performance to an adorning "Cavalcante" mask? Rameau's "Gallant Indians" comes to mind, History's Lotto! A yesterday's shadow.

...That Bitch on Oboe. Heartbroken, sounding ON my Fugal Horn. The whole wind section is in sympathy. Will I EVER fit into a Classical orchestra, a "COPY BAND" of yesterday's GENIUS, Beethoven, Mozart, all those cool Cats, ever again? Love, will U ever come back, like Music again? 

As for that GLANCE of POETRY no unique singer/artist cannot disguise, a beauty, an innocence from where they began shines on stage enveloped in Natures rhapsody. A kiss of death to surrounding mediocrity 'less they wear Salieri's crown.  

c.2025. Dave Delacroix/"Non baton/sans Tuxedo.".

 

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "A Taste of Fame."

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "A Taste of Fame."

...A touch of Fame, that brutal game, to usurp the aspic of your given name? That touch of fame, demonic shadow, a kiss of fate. In utero yet aborted, somehow?

DANCE! DANCE! Wherever U may be. I am the Lord of the Dance said He an' I'll lead U all even stuck up on a Tree, I'll cough up a song or 2 for thee!

PRANCE! PRANCE! But nothing is for free. When the music ends do U still get a seat? I'M the Cat who pulls all the strings. Come along & sing wiv' Mio! (Ghostly sounds!)

Ain't no sunshine when IT'S lost. A "has-been" in Hollywood, join the flock. A touch of Fame, Medusa's STARE & U. R. nowhere. And the Golden Fleece? Ever illusive. A taste of Fame.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our BONNIE LAD in Europe, now Belize, dave delacroix: "The PLAID Sky."

 

Our BONNIE LAD in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "The PLAID Sky."

ALL THE LEAVES R BROWN & the sky is PLAID; my Sporran's in the wash & my Kilts all frayed. Guess U gonna CATCH ME in my Under shorts; nutting to worry, whisky in the JAR-O! (Tra-la!)

I went into a Church. Strictly dress-code. Got thrown out on my ear...on a Winter's Day? The bristles on my thighs & calves (BRRR!), don't think I'm gonna stay. All the leaves R brown. On such a Winters day.

The BAGPIPES DRONE (Drone-drone-drone!) they got something to say. Romance, History so I got down - KILT-less - on mah knees? I gotta share it 'wiv U; JEEZE-CHRISTIE! All the leaves R brown & the sky is plaid.

(Song ends here. Ran out of song, California-Dreaming Alt. ideas. 3.a.m. Cats need feeding & am running low on Scotch. Sorry bout dat.)

c.2025. dave delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, Dave Delacroix: "Song for a Cougar."

 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, dave delacroix: "Song for a Cougar."

...WHEN THE NIGHT has come, U feel like U don't belong, those Crochet lessons didn't work out & ya JUDO exercises somehow seem dumb-ass wrong. So don't TRY, don't bloody well Try. Put on that Kimono, pour a Whisky & soda. No worries. I will stand by U.

Now IF your Stocks & Shares on Wall Street ...get to tumble & fall and that GIG-A-LIG-LIO U been hiding out found some other Cougar to fall? It ain't the NIGHT, it ain't no blight; sweet SISTA, we gotta fight throughout it all? I will stand, stand by U. I will give U my shoes. (the Left one) I will always...stand by U.

Don't be AFRAID! Don't be afraid. Don't GROWL at what U made. Night or Day, which-ever-ways the wind blows, I'll stand by U. (Keep repeating till, like me, U climb up a tree!) Get off that Cellphone to NODODY important! Find ya-self an honest Toy-Boy, get ya-self a decent BOOK, Camus, Sartre, or some Bodice-ripping historical Romance!

(Just a thought.)

When the NIGHT has come, ya feel like U don't belong? Just know, I will stand by U. S-WOT WE GOT! I will stand by U & be true. I will stand, stand by U, stand by U.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Euro pe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "On Calvary!"

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

HEY HOSANNA! Where have U gone? And that street laced with Palms, your Caravanserai, the "carpet" for the dude who threw-out Shekels from the Temple WAILING "Love & Peace" must prevail? 

(On Calvary!)

HEY HOSANNA. Mary Magdelin! Did U kiss her too? Have KIDS!? And after that "river-gig", JOHNNY-B, did he wash away your Sins, make U new?

(On Calvary!)

HEY HOSANNA. We R awash in our desert, we're lost in the fold...."WOOLIES-SOCKS", U steal ME, we steal U? Hurtling thru SPACE, a universal revolver of consequence; whotcha gonna DO?

(On Calvary!)

And as for that Christ, a-splayed on the cross, foretold for ALL man, we ALL gotta go there some day, a place, a reservation, some Calvary awaits. Foot dangling? Nope. Calvary don't sleep.

(Singing:) "Oh Susannah, come sing along with Me? Gotta JAR-O on the table & a Banjo on mah knee!"

c.2025. dave delacroix.

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

 

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

WE DIED BEFORE, so many years ago

We died somehow, wailing

hand in hand.

Somehow, we died. 

An-inherent in our plans

yet we DIED, that kiss

that hand in hand.

WE DIED in a Song

the one we never knew.

We passed-away

Love's sway,

a Mississippi Blues?

Still, we died in that labyrinth,

an intoxicated coil

OILED by differentials,

a Society to despoil.

We died in Yesterday's-Tomorrow

a Song upon the cusp.

the sweetest kiss, your breasts a-cup

the ecstasy of NOW - but GONE!!!

And though we died, the WORLD

still fried into our burning cup.

Yet we died, yet survived

in the ashes of our Love; 

there goes star-crossed Lovers

and does anybody see bird's wings

flying noiselessly into the sky?

Nope? Me neither!

They just pass on by.

The wings of a Dove.

c.dave, 2025. Dave Delacroix.