COPYRIGHT 2003 LUNDBERG/HARRIS
This was a collaborative piece and I owe Peter a debt of gratitude for helping me see that I could perform pieces with a positive social and spiritual message. Mr. Peter Harris was my lover for a time and now he is my vest friend and collaborator.
Mr. Harris advised me through the process and because of his support and criticism, this piece belongs to both of us. I have the copyright under Lundberg/Harris and it is nearly ready to be published.
It is true that I wrote this at Basil's in the middle of the night and there were no pens in the house. I had an old fountain pen with no ink and remembering my Sherlock Holmes, I drew up lemon juice into the well of the pen.
If you hold the paper up to a candle, it will make the writing appear. This person who will remain nameless came up behind me and witnessed this practical magic and asked me what I was doing, "I am the Faery King and this is the way that I write all my prose and poetry." If only it were that easy.
Criminal’s Bar Mitzvah
Co-Written and Edited by Peter Harris
Dedicated to Heather Kyle
Listening to Kenya's “Caribbean Blue” brings emotion, covered in faery dew. For I am a child years 40 and 2, who grew up on an island, surrounded by Blue....
The reefs of Pink coral, blending into Green, meeting Golden sand, so serene… this place where children run naked hand-in --hand, our fisherman, young and old. Can not be bought or sold,
Bananas Yellow hang in the air, Brown coconuts fall. Watch your head! "You'd better take care," for in that mind, rests all of your dreams.
Squirting Key Limes, papaya ice cream. Spanish moss like a Salvador Dali dream…
Lovers. Who never age, where free spirits fly... each day a new page… old children dream and never die, sweet gardenia, Orchids in bloom, rare colorful birds, in the air, showing magical plumes…
on the horizon, a tempest does loom…
Stars in the sky, look at the moon, a gentle breeze makes the lonely swoon… with sea of great moonlit glass, containing your joy at such beauty was always a task… faeries and spirits fly, islanders never asking why, Waltzing Matilda, on her broom, she rides high…
Leave paradise?.. You want to know why,
Even in Eden, it stinks round low tide,
fisherman now gone... all the tourist did come, there's no place to hide from the coming dark sun…
Our secret is out... natives asking instead. Why do we need the things we can't buy? Why is that man dead?
These are the questions rocking-chair Grandmas ask of the child...
First happy lovers did come, rolling in waves, kisses on high, for love, this place is the one.
Then men in Black suits then came to stay, That’s when grand–old-Zeppie did say, "These men, fester with expressions of hatred and greed, we must stand on our feet against this poison tide or paradise will know defeat!”….
She wondered… out loud… “Why did we brag”? The corrupted commissioner called her a “crazy old hag;”
Yet, she did know. Which way wind would blow….
“We need the money, so we can be grand!" Criss-crossing motives mixed in the sand. All know Key West, throughout the land. Those fisherman, now are bought-n-sold, Faced with greed, men of integrity are the first to go.
Houses-n-boats sold at auction, the bank didn't care, women and children were not even spared. The grim task of caring for their husbands, drunk with rum and greed, now their investment gone to seed… "Yes, strong drink mixed with crocodile tears, that’s all I reckon we need", said these men, not even aware, that they had descended into the devil's own lair,
How this at my heart did tear… "Where are the ones, we once held so dear?" Old houses and boats did rot, people living in constant fear, Neptune’s blight.
Once innocent children filled with rage, losing their sight. No more family or Jesus, He is now gone. The noble ones now merely pawns, friends no more true/they did brawl and violence did flare those tourists at"island trash" they'd stare Drug traffickers' with stock in death' overtook hopeless children’now’outta’breath,
"Your parents were wrong, what we say, now goes, here, lil’ Fishbait, put this up your nose, then this boy was molested, do you suppose?
“Here’s a new bike! There’s money t’spare! "Trust me on this, your mother won't care, if she really loved y’, you'd get rum with your coke!”…
For a 13-year-old boy, a criminal’s Bar Mitzvah? It's no joke.
“ A ten-dollar whore is easy ta’find, those hoochies do help the young men unwind... The rules you grew up with, needn’t apply, cuz’once respected women, now are Jis’toys, no need’ta b’kind.
With power and money, the rules are ya’own,” Children in wicked ways were taught and shown. The drug’dealer did say, "for now y’won't pay",
of course we did sell our bodies… one day…
We all began praying for some other way, take a boy and a girl, corrupt their young minds, making more slaves for "The Business" in Satan’s bind,
Mama’n’Daddy, won't even make a peep, for these evil men, weapons they keep,
children been taught the way of the wild .civilization gasping trying t’hold plastic smiles... Yes, my kingdom island is now dog-eat-dog, how can the priestess by potion make the new mayor, a mad frog?
Vice does. create’such.. all.. Consuming.. Fog
No' more neighborly duty? Such crime. On the water front… Now. Less of an island. More like. A dangerous rock, “oops-I-slipped-through-the-dealer's-doc
A place once like Eden, before the fall, Hearts once loving! Sealed now. In invisible walls...
the act of love, once freely given… Now they just pay for some of our women.
In a time gone by, we just needed a beer n’ some bait, now 20 dollar bills, color TV’s, Whatta state!
Was Zeppie the only one to see the disease?
People still ask, "Why, Mr. Fishbait, did ya'll up’n leave?".
With a grimace I look, and answer with pain...
"Because, dear friend, my kingdom did go insane,
and old Zeppie’s now dead, our cussin-Bible-readin’ Queen,
with her all this bullshit was foreseen,
but no one would listen, not even me,
some fared better than others, but we all did lose, and the scary thing is, we had the power to choose…
Thinking back, I remember their names, the children who died, AIDS? Who to blame?
Such innocent children, it's really a shame,
So, If we divine a lesson from this island, serene in it’s day. If there is a place where children, naked do play, where lovers do kiss, on the edge of the bay, keep yourself quiet! Speak with a hush, so you won't attract greed…. Hatred…. Lust.
If your life is simple, just keep it that way...
As for lost innocence- I am luckier than most, In my sweet Jesus I have found real Peace, this is Truth and not boast.
The answer to healing is simple. For me...
in my heart I still sit. cussing’n’fishing with my friend- Old Zeppie….
YUST aka Fishbait The Great