Califa

California was conceived in myth, promoted as legend and made into the desire of the world, the place where dreams come true and hearts are broken.  In myth, it is a legendary land covered in gold, where anyone can become a wealthy movie star.  The name originated in the legend of the Queen of the Island of California, a work of fiction created by Garci Rodriquez de Montalvo in 1500.  It's popularity grew until by the mid-1700s the name California had become associated with the Spanish controlled Pacific Coast of North America, the people who lived there being called Californios.  Califa (Calafia, Califia) is, in the Montalvo story, the stunningly beautiful black queen of an army of warrior women who fight like men and ride giant mythical griffins.  

The origins of the folk song, Fatal Flower Garden, date back possibly to the seventeenth century. By the time it made it to the Harry Smith Anthology, the anti-semitic references have been made into mere implications. Because of the popularity of ghost and horror stories, the image of a wicked witch was rendered harmless, and its association with people different from the color group of the story teller, was made nearly invisible.  It becomes a simple children's song, full of potent symbols, an allegory that speaks on multiple levels but remains innocent.  Combining the myth of California with Fatal Flower Garden made sense to me, and once the song announced itself, it brought itself into existence almost without any effort.  

Califa   

Califa Califa
With your rum and your reefer
Califa Califa
With your gold and your rings and things
Califa Califa
You put me in a fever
Califa Califa
Am I your sacrifice?  

First time I saw Califa
she's a leopard in an ally way
She made a hungry sound, like she was ready.
She say, "let's go, babe, I'll take you all the way."

On her face was the dream of an ocean,
her skin like a coal black pearl,
a body that can stop traffic on a green light,
and the style of a far off different world.

And me, I'm tripping on the night life,
and that night I'm looking for a ride.
Sometimes I'm looking  for danger, 
like a hook up for a night with a stranger like

(chorus)

She took my hand, walked across the street
to a walkup on the second floor.
And the smell and the stink was a wipe out
Til she turned the key and opened up the door

To a room from a fairy tale fiction 
All velvet and diamonds, and gold
Well the way she moved, it put me in a groove
and I was  there to do whatever I was told.

She had me roaring like a lion.
She had me rutting like a bull.
Like a hissing snake she prepared to take me, 
like an angel, calling me her fool, 

        I'm thinkin'

Califa, Califa,
With your rum and your reefer.
Califa, Califa,
With your gold and your rings and things, 'n
Califa, Califa,
You put me in a fever.
Califa, Califa,
Am your sacrifice?

Well the brew was freely flowing,
She kissed me and her tongue got curious. 
Her lips, her skin, all a perfect sin,
and her reefer made my head go delirious. 

In no time we emptied the bottle.
There's just a little bitty drop in the glass.
She put me away, I was her lump of clay.
She said, "Drink up baby, it'll be your last."  

Something in the rum made me dizzy.
Something in her eyes got me scared.
I couldn't move my legs or my arms, now
"What'd you do?"  She smiled, 'n said, "You wouldn't understand,"

            'I'm thinkin',

Califa, Califa,
With your rum and your reefer.
Califa, Califa,
With your gold and your rings and things, 'n
Califa, Califa,
You put me in a fever.
Califa, Califa,
Am I your sacrifice?

Copyright © 2009, 2014 by David Larstein, all rights reserved

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