Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "Cafe Lunghi."

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "Cafe Lunghi!"

....CAFE AU LAIT, that Facebook, that UTTERANCE Mile, U walk into PLACES; angels, fear to Dread: DIbjab, Photo-Scoop, Fear, RAPE, that Inter-net: a Psycho-scape?... Take off your Condoms! TAKE OFF YOUR tESTICAL wONDER-BRA! -"finger" your intrinsic INTELLECT, find out who U are? uN cAFE AU LAITE, Carnivale Day: A Festa, a Pantomine, that taKES OVER YOUR rOOM?...Cafe lunghi, again?


C2017,DAVEDELACROIX/lord borgo/SCIACCA,SICILY...

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "Santa Lucia!"

Our Man in Europe/ dave delacroix/ "Santa Lucia...."



Quando Amore? When will I love U: Russia, America; CHINA: Quando Amore? Friends of Allah; can U INTEGRATE, in mia Campagne? .CAN U INTEGRATE!!!?.. My sons and my daughters give U every respect but U cannot arrive in my Country...and expect Me to CHANGE? THIS is MY Land. My Country. RESPECT MY PEOPLE: or go back home. Freedom here!? We FOUGHT, , our people died for OUR DEMOCRACY. Go back Home: Fight for YOURS!...! Don' be a COWARD. Fight for your Land! KILL your Native Tyrants and be FREE!...in your Land? It's Your Land!?
Quando Amore. We are ALL refugees in Time's History; we grow Olives, Grapes, and the food that we need? Can we put it "in a Box" and say, harmony? Can we be sublime, thinking, as in ROMAN times, a PAX ROMANGNA, my Son will someday, marry your Girl? Will U let your daughter be FREE?
Quando, "Tempest fugit", perhaps, I'm deceased, or under a foliage of tranquility when Old Men don't Preach to their own kind, but to Travellers, new, looking for the wonders of the World?

Santa Lucia? An old song. I - back in the 1970's, hitch-hiking through TORINO - had the Honour of sharing Vino with the Auto Workers/Friday Night: by the Fiat Company..... "Santa Lucia."  On a hot, July night, Un-forgetable: those "Working MEN?", SANTA LUCIA, 300 voices, two elected Tenors: the BEST Choir I ever heard....

Quando Amore?  Santa Lucia? This sad, sad ol' World?


c2017,davedelacroix/LORD BORGO, Sciacca-Sicily
.

oUR mANN IN eUROPE/DAVE DELACROIX, "EXCALIBUR!"

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix, "EXCALIBUR!"


DON'T wanna SING, a song of U....Yet, galoshes: fallen', what can I do? A Song of Princesses, Kings and Queens? Don't wanna SAY all Lust, or Kids, never strayed to count the Cost; whilst business, reality, fades into a Dream?
Wanna sing of Eternal Love, Minstrels, Poets, and where are your Past loves; And the Lady in the Lake, who smiled, serpentine?  A mirror, a mirror, of your felicity?
Wanna SING those Saxon tales, Viking Rovers;  U take the Dane LAW? U take the Dane GOLD?
WANNA KISS, ALL u MISS, holes in destiny, tooth and nail in the Coffin of your fate? (Some prick will dig U up later?) ...And sing your AMERICAN, Anglo-Saxon song?
Wanna SING of War-fare, blood, gore, a spread eagle, an Eternal, or shame of battle, EXCALIBUR, whilst my sword lies now: in a distant, watery grave: an ATTIDUDE, ever poignant,   like an unforgiving mist.


O Sing of me' Brothers!  We  live and we fight...till the Day is Won!.....:)


c.2017/davedelacroix/LORD BORGO, Sciacc-Sicily.

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "Mostly Dead."

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "Mostly Dead."


Mostly dead people. Mostly dead loves, passions, fashions, clothes, now rags, girls shoes in a landfill, their owners hearts, imprisoned in an Old Folks Home in Kansas State, faraway from Los Angeles where they "Butterflied", or N.Y.C. where, and when  they painted their tits on canvas for Andy Warhol or Salvador Dali and wouldn't suck YOUR dick for ALL the whisky in Ireland?... And here they sit? Little ol' Ladies: Yesterday's Groupies! The one's U couldn't LAY; came, originally, from a small USA town, now rebound, seething, thru their mascara and expensive dentures: gleaning, twinkled, with EYES that sing of CBGB's, Max's Kanasas City, Cafe WHA?, and UP-town from dancing with Charlie Parker, Kid Coltraine, FURRRRlLONIUS Monk, a Negro Jesuit.  Twinkle, twinkle, ebony and Ivory notes, still resounding... "Yellow Mongoose!", now,  in the Old Folks Home?

I was hitch-hiking, with my guitar, thru low south East Kansas, just out of Springfield, Missouri. Regardless. The Owner of this Old folks Settlement gave me a ride in his Pontiac and  a place to "crash". I met the Senior Nurses/cum Doctors who had to administer to these latter day "belle de jours" (some physio-therapy horror stories!), saluted THEM, but still Saluted  the 80 or so ol'Gals who ONCE ruled Society's  fair, these Ladies,  a PANORAMA, wigs, pastiche,  of a bygone Age? .... And the Papparazzi? Not there. The Papparazzi, nowhere in sight... And "I",  a Kid, passing "thru" with a Guitar, a song, to throng, to resonate their past majestic delight? So just WHO, in the blink of an eye, carves yesterdays'-tomorrow, or can spread-eagle an infinity - span TIME! -  for those we should love?-their Egyptian eyes, still yearning, nevertheless, targeted my SOUL.



c2017/davedelacroix/LORD BORGO, Sciacca/Sicily.

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "BOOG-A-LOO!"

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "BOOG-A-LOO!"


I got problems with RUSSIA, I got friends there!
I say: "BOOG-A-LOO!"
Friends in SHANGHAI, China;
I say: "BOOG-A-LOO!"
My Buddies in IRAN ...and IRAQ,
I say: "BOOG-A-LOO!
In France, In Germany,
Holland, Canada and Spain,
Brazil, Argentina, Paraguay,
the message
is the SAME:
I say: "BOOG-a-LOO!"
to the INTELLIGENT FEW;
"What WE gonna do
to make this ol' World spin right?"

Take it to THE LEFT!
Tale it to the RIGHT!
It's DOWN to the GIRLS
to make this WORLD alright,
or the PIED piper of HAMELIN
to take away the KIDS
and let Humanity
start all over again?

In St. Petersburg, gotta wear
a woolly hat,
in Beijing, Gen Tso Soup Noodles,
in Roma, Minestrone,
in Dublin, a pint of Guinness;
Mexico: Salsa-Burrito:
"let it go...

So I'm down in MADRAS
lookin' at the "Mass"
wondrin', like U
What we gonna do?...:)


c2017/davedelacroix/lord borgo.

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/(french guy)/Our Man in Eurpe/Life's a Long Song. (Dr. No.)

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "(Dr. No,")

WANNA see my  Lost KIN? Wanna see World Peace? Wanna see that Goldfinger,  OUT, from under ya aging  SKIN?...Wanna see your SECOND Face-lift? Want that LATENT "Joi da Vie"? Don't talk to ya Doctor - YOOO - don't TALK to ya Doctor...Yooo!  AIN'T Doctor YO!? And anyway the wind blows? Problem? Go "Consult with Doctor No!"..? So they say?...

WANNA feel the Love of Youth? Or just wanna grow, an OLYMPIAN? Wanna -don't DIE, get OLD, Rest in Peace, on a LYRE, sing an Eternal Song? WHAT'S the "OOMMMMM!" of Tranquility and that GOLDFINGER, under your skin, about that CUSP of your IDEA: double helix, cyclonic, twisting, turning; a Lava  Lamp of Pestilence; and WHO lives, who Dies? Incontinent History!.....? Consult with "Doctor "NO!"?

WANNA go softly home at night? Continent. Babies safe, eyes wide shut? A Poem, a Song, a Protector; outside of Vagabonds, Evil and sadly, mostly, our fellow Man: WANNA SING a HERALDS Song, announcing all that's Wrong?  Then? Lingering on the Poetry of How, U,  and Me are supposed to be?...Possibly: Consultations!? Crypts of Ghosts, sanctify, with their ancestors ancient WAIL!?


WANNA kiss the Open Air? Wanna kiss me when I'm not there? Wanna say a Sweet Hello, yesterday, today, Tomorrow, too?
Wanna SEE mah lost, lost Kin, wanna see where I begin; wanna love the PEOPLE that I meet?.....

...Recently, I continue... to Walk Abroad.


c2017/dave delacroix/LORD BORGO/Viscounti di Piacenza,OUR Man in Europe, ESQ.

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/"SUSPICION..."

Our Man in Europe/dave delaroix/"...SUSPICION..."


Well? Suspicion: I DON'T have much money, got a fridge full of beer, some Vino Bianco, Rosso, Prosciutto and there's a bottle of Whisky, masqueradin' under the name of ORSON, blended-malt, of which, my suspicions FAIL whenever it's EMPTY, and, M'Dear, I can't find your Photo, which is neither here nor there, on this sea shore, blustery night in Sciacca-Sicily, in Italia-don't U know?PIRATES abound here, let me tell ya!- but where the KIDS are alright? Your "Midnight Thoughts": I'll lend U a Shilling, or  I'll lend U a Pound; American Dollars, we'll share?

Well; Me Lass! Did I ever tell ya 'bout Mister O'Neill. Problem with his Grand Piano, 59th. St, New York City. Baack in the 1970's it was. Piano-Instrument-removal.  ADvizzzed him to get a HELICOPTER, pick da dang piano up, pop it thru the "Skylight", into da UP-Market loft, and so it WAS: "Feelin' Groovy!" It WORKED! The Chase-Manhattan Bank never thanked me... George O'Neil's Piano playing never improved. And I just - as always - strummed Woody Guthrie chords? Did I tell U about the Helicopter? Very noisy. I nicknamed it CYCLOPS.

It's a BIG SECRET. I'm living in Sicily..... And DON'T get suspicious, "mon Coeur."



c2017/davedelacroix/LORD BORGO/Palermo-Sicily.