CliffSongs

  25 October: Hunter, Hound, and Moon   Wind had told Crow. Crow had told Fox. Fox informed Rabbit, Who speedily told the rest. But none had told Hound, Too often in the company of Hunter, And so could not now be trusted. But Hound was quite clever, And not all of the Wild had left him, Though long had he lain at Hunter’s hearth.   Now Hound would slip the door, And bolts at speed to Wood, Hunter trails unwilling, Bow to hand, Fearing danger Hound would confront. Hound leads Hunter to unknown glade, Resting ‘neath Robin Red’s tree, Who trills his Sunset Song. Dark closes quick, And Moon peers silent through the trees. Yellow-clothed at the horizon, She slowly ascends, And soon sheds her saffron, To sheen in pearled white.   Rays and beams reach forth glimmering fingers, To wrap Hunter in gleaming glamour. Now Hunter is taken by some fascination: Wiping at eyes somehow blurring, Shoulders shaking in ecsta...

  22 October: Call of the Void   I am not a superstitious man… But someone tell me: Why do the shadows move? This lightless room Vibrant with motion, Impossible, So real. Formless dark advancing, Immaterial movement menacing… I am not a superstitious man, But do my eyes deceive? In this dark Only the void is darker. How may a shadow whisper? How may a whisper rasp? Some language unknown slithers, Sibilance surrounds. No sense in the syllables, Until my name sounds. Who calls to me from the gloom? No, This is no calling, This is negation. I am not a superstitious man, But I fear erasure. The warmth here does not subside, It is stolen away, Replaced in chill. My fingers frost, My eyelids frozen, The icing words repeat on loop. Cold is the absence of heat. Dark is the absence of light. Demise is the absence of life. I fear erasure, But I am not a superstitious man. I feel as if I scream, I hear naught b...

  15 October: Turn Around   Don’t turn around… Isn’t that the rule? Don’t turn around. It isn’t that you want to see, no, No… It’s that you have to see. Is there? Isn’t there? What’s there? What? It isn’t that you want to see… Don’t turn around. That’s the rule. But… Is there? It’s better to not know… Or… Is there? What’s there? You know the rule. Still, What’s there? Who’s there? Is there? Don’t turn around! Don’t you know the rule? The rule is: Don’t. Don’t turn around. What’s there to see? Nothing. Probably nothing. It’s probably nothing. What’s there? Nothing. Is there? Probably. Nothing to see. Nothing there. Probably…   Turn around.   Cliff Lake 10/14/2026 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2026

  14 October: Of Autumn Rain   What can be said of autumn rain? The slight chill accompanies, The day tinged in darkening gray, The soft patter of the slow shower, Locked in for the duration.   What can be said of October storms? Have the bolts shown brighter? Has the sky gone darker? Does the chill dig deeper? The rain has never been wetter!   What can be said of these October showers? They breed hot drinks on a drizzly afternoon, They bear dry leaves to their timely demise. They wash away the summer-strewn dusts, This lingering cleanse before winter’s dress.   What more can I say of an autumn rain? One more layer of clothing applied, One more minute to get ready, One more excuse to dawdle indoors, One more reminder of the years’ close.   Say what you will of the autumn rain: Say that it adds to October gloom, Say that it is not convenient, Say even that it is not wanted, When has it ever done as ...

  Herald   The messengers go by many paths, This urgency must be met. The enemy approaches in his wrath, But our doom is not yet set.   Our ally is many leagues away, Does he know our plight? Our enemy may between lay, But hope now rides this night.   So, ride you herald, ride! Bear your dispatch for your king! Ride, you herald, ride! Though evil tiding you bring. The aggressor has a thirsty spear, The oppressor will not mere rest here, So ride herald, death draws too near, O ride, herald! Ride!   Through hidden lanes and forests old, The messengers ride out, To speak of oath to uphold, And put raider to rout.   Swift and silent they must ride, Before the foe can make assail. They speed ahead of evil tide, They must win through; they dare not fail!   So, ride you herald, ride! Bear your dispatch for your king! Ride, you herald, ride! Though evil tiding you bring. The aggressor has a ...

  8 October: The Paper People   her name what was her name you were there when she slipped you were there when they slipped you can’t see them from the side paper people the paper people you were there when they slip in through the cracks you can’t see them from the side their eyes not eyes their not eyes don’t look at their not eyes drains siphons you were there when what was her name she slipped through the when they took she slipped what was you saw their not eyes they took not all of when they took her eyes you see her eyes drain slip they slipped they took her name the paper people they took what was you were there when she slipped they took what was what was her name you were there when they slipped you were there when she slipped what was her name   close the door don’t look don’t look at their not-eyes don’t look at   Cliff Lak...

  6 October: Lantern Jack Goes On The Hunt   Lantern Jack was having a panic attack: Someone had run off with his cat in a sack. Lantern Jack swore he’d get Hellcat back, And persecute the perpetrator of the hijack.   Lantern Jack headed out the back, He could barely make out some traces in the track. Past tombstones and moonstones and a rotting haystack, Jack soon spied a shuttered up shack.   Lantern Jack had to hang back: No telling what was hiding intent on attack, Jack was prepared to take on a whole pack, If it meant that Hellcat wouldn’t end as a snack.   Lantern Jack crept up on the sorry shack, And peered through a window just open a crack. There was no one inside that he could give a whack, Just some broken furniture and one lumpy sack.   The empty room took Jack quite aback: He thought he’d find some ghoul inside talking smack. Instead, he found webs and dust and fading bric-a-brac, And ancient Mo...

  A Strangulation   The incessant need of the crowd: A succubus you sought out. Insatiable in demand, The audience that smothers.   The slow strangulation of popularity.   A vacuum of you, You gave willingly. Doled out for the suffocating return, How much of you is left?   Slowly strangled by popularity.   Give and give and give some more! Is it still genuine? You give and still they hunger, When did you cease to win?   You are strangling in popularity.   Hollow, you got hollow, Who can say what will follow? You started the cycle – And now you can’t get off.   Strangling yourself with popularity.   What do the numbers add up to? Do you gain just to gain? What have you got upon review? You’ll leave it behind just the same…   The doors that never stop knocking, The answers you cannot give. The vortex that you created, You fell in and can’t swim.   Thi...

  1 October: Shadowframe   1 October has come again, The strange time is risen. Weirdness gripping you and your friends, Darkshine in the eyes where it has deeply been.   There lies the question of some secret flame, A participation in a hidden game, A wolfish joy as October came, And a beckoning to the shadowframe.   And so we slide into the shadowframe, Where you lose yourself someplace without name Where on you strange places its claim, Lost between reason and real, (It’s all the same) This is you in the shadowframe.   Do you dance the moon alone, Felt perchance in blood and bone, A happenstance of some unknown, A fevered trance on firestone.   And so you slide into the shadowframe, Where you find yourself without a name Where on you wild places its claim, Lost between reason and real, (It’s all the same) This is you in the shadowframe.   This yearly harvest heralds winter: A collecting...

  A Moment in Texture   The texture of the moment Lost in the sweep of hours. To exist within a time That cannot be held, But is relinquished To mere memory And the regret of inevitability. Another dumpy specimen Swimming upstream against the regimen, I watch the moment Rushing to remembrance, And settles with the impermanence of life Subject to recall without notice.   And the world went on without me.   Another day and More facts to rearrange, Doesn’t it all seem a little strange, This sticky web; This life we’re anchored of… All that input for the same old output, Nudging existence onward, Until we exist no longer, And our trace is washed away, At the end of the day It was just another day, And we made it after all.   And the world goes on around us.   Sometimes the shadows pass my door, A pale parade in pantomime, A partial pageant painted. Ghosts in daylight, Lost to the night....

  Darkday 2026   What is this pounding? Those deep, drear beats resounding? War drums beating so constant, Or the growing chorus of dissent?   What is this reeking? What grave offences are creaking? Newly risen criminology, Ruination sans apology.   And the days drag on And the will wears down. And the light’s most gone, And I am near drowned…   What is this reaping? What is this malfeasance creeping? Payola to the open pocket, So fast you cannot clock it.   What is this stealing? Out in the open double-dealing. You’d think it made no sense: Leadership without conscience.   And the days drag on And the will wears down. And the light’s most gone, And the dark surrounds…   What pallid light lingers? Is there hope in this gloom? Give me flint and tinder, Let the light back in the room!   What is this fleecing? Who mans this grift unceasing? Some decrepit unaware, Lon...

  One Four Three, Two Four Five   A viewpoint through intensity, Synapses fired in new complexity. Pinwheels; bike wheels, they sound the same, Cycling always: sing the refrain. The walkthrough of a total amaze: A respite from ordinary days. So long now, a spark in the past, We never knew how, how long it would last.   One four three, two four five, Just a few hours to survive. Wandering out on the deep dive. One for three and two for five, Some are grateful and still alive.   Shining shards of darkness salted, Left in wholeness exalted. Dim-remembered revelation, Savored, selected from the vibration. The spin-through of totality’s maze: A respite from ordinary days. Strip this society’s flaccid mask, Seeking answers you did not ask.   One four three, two four five, Just a few hours to arrive. Wandering out on the deep drive. One for three and two for five, Some are grateful and still alive.   ...

  It’s Lake Ontario   Google Maps has made the incredibly imbecilic decision to allow a toddler’s temper tantrum to rename a shared resource, namely Lake Ontario to “Lake America” and display that idiocy on any Google map within the United States. I get it, they’re big, and unwieldy, and probably uncaring and too self-absorbed to correct and just won’t listen to we ordinary folk… Or…   You can submit your feelings about this nonsense in a number of ways. Allow me to copy Google’s own instructions detailing how you may tell them to cut the crap:   “You can send general product feedback or report app bugs in Google Maps by tapping your profile picture and choosing Help & feedback . On Mobile (Android, iPhone, & iPad) Open the Google Maps app. Tap your profile picture or initial in the top right corner. Select Help & feedback . Tap Send product feedback . Type your ideas or issues, then tap Send . Tip: ...

  Miss Information   The smiles, the guiles, The recording all the while. The wiles, the friendly style, The gathering of the exploit file.   The cocked aim, the locked frame, The shaping of the long game. The proclaim, the defame, The seeking of the shocked shame.   The long and fruitless quest, Between what is known and what is guessed. Speaking what in secret what was confessed, And in speaking, fail the test.   The bargain burn, the chastise churn, What is the sought-after return? The adverse affirm, the coached confirm, Who is the now turned worm?   The long and fruitless quest, Between what is known and what is guessed. Speaking what in secret what was confessed, And in speaking, fail the test. The faulty thread, the falsely led, The fealty never said. The furor spread, the facts shed, The fantasy found instead.   The safety shred, the belief bled, The allegations lie ahead. Lies i...

  The Legacy   A legacy to stand for all time, A legacy of your own find, A legacy of your own mind, A legacy of the wrong kind…   Hear me child as I tell the story Of a brute who chased his glory Under false pretense and the backroom deal, Through power grab and outright steal.   Hear me now as I mean to show, What your frail ego will never know: Of the falling down and the frequent fail, Hear me now as I tell your tale…   A legacy to stand in time, A legacy of your own find, A legacy of your own mind, A legacy of the wrong kind…   Will they remember what you defaced? Will they remember your frowny face? Will they remember how you were clowned? Is your legacy what you have torn down?   What do you think you leave behind? In your criminality too entwined. Daily someone takes pains to remind: In the files you’re enshrined.   A legacy to stand for all time, A legacy of your own find, ...

  Muddied Waters   He muddies the waters, He muddles the minds. He offers them what they desire With the empty hand. He proffers the fist When the pocket needs priming. He is congenial when convenient, He is spiteful when spied. A stalwart when opportune, He is firmly in his corner. He deflects from the main thrust When the corner becomes too tight. He muddies the waters, He meddles the minds. He speaks in spirals Intent on descent. He proposes the unreachable With his fingers crossed. He sings the praises of the praisers, He spurns the reports of the real. He margins the market, He marks the marks. He deviates the documents, He nevers the news. He muddies the waters, He messes the masses. He maligns modesty, He is misshapen morality. He practices the unthinkable, He thinks he isn’t caught. He shaves the points, He starves the hopeful. He hungers the hallelujah, He hides the history. He hallows the hateful...

  Lonely Turn   The lonely rock slowly turns, Its crowded face slowly burns. For peace and plenty the lowly yearn, As the elevated play their unconcern. Stars above stare blankly cold and stern, At a lonely rock that slowly turns.   Points of light in darkness wheeling, They hold their knowledge unrevealing. No knowing what they’re concealing, Unwarm, distant and unfeeling.   The lonely rock slowly burns, In uncrowded space it slowly turns. The elevated play out their unconcern, For peace and plenty the lowly yearn. Stars above stare blankly cold and stern, At a lonely rock that slowly burns.   Sun and moon dare to grace the sky, Light our struggles but don’t say why. Though our every effort may go awry, They merely watch this rock from on high.   Specks on a rock that daily yearn, Heavens that shine in unconcern. Elevated laugh from heights unearned, As beneath them tribulation churns. No chance f...

  The Daily Reap   Red dreams howl in a twilight we did not ask for. Promise fulfilled claiming lives. Marching goons welcomed by morons unaware they are listed also. Daily chaos daily reap. Bibles raised opposite the gun hand. Pulpits praise the reddened tide. Lawless lawmen perform in concert. Justice flees her skirts undone. Daily disarray daily reap. Pledges lied for eager sup. Contracts signed to be ignored. Roving eye staring blankly. Covered ear hears praise only. Twisted tongue truths accidentally. Margin multitudes miss the message. Daily discord daily reap. Costly bread choking masses. Hobbled peoples forsaken legacy. Vanity project mildewed by morning. Cash conscription for golden tomb. Daily snarl daily reap. Untruth spoken sold for profit. Nightmare molded newly taught. Historic fumble fashioned as win. Character cratered callously championed. Illegal lega...

  hours   white noise and the scream of the undone and plans and plans and planning and   the hours grow long and long   memory stains motion motion mourns motive motive mars memory and the hours grow long   white noise clouds and does not release remainders reminders remainders rolling rolling rolling roiling remaining and the hours grow long and no witness but the undone   the hours hang on and the reminders remain and the undone reminds remains reflects regrets and the white noise rises rejects remains and the hours grow long and long   long and long   The hours grow long   Cliff Lake 7/4/2026 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2026

  As Advertised   You consume promises. Hip-hop candy bar hallucination. Soda pop dream time. Chewing gum reverie. Melt away the pounds production. Electric automobile vacation vision. Employee-only pricing available to all. So many promises. The years-long-going-out-of-business-sale. The miracle health benefit. The get out of jail free card lawyer. The accident payment action. The lower than low everyday prices. Consume the promises. The quality assurance. The 3-year warranty. The free delivery. The no-salesman-will-contact-you. The internet-only offer. The digital coupon. The spending to save. The younger-looking-you. The 5% cash-back. Eat that promise. The lifetime guarantee. The subscripted discount. The After-Christmas sale. The Valentine’s sale. The President’s Day sale. The Memorial Day sale. The Mother’s Day sale. The Father’s Day sale. The Back-to-School. July Fourth. Labor Day. Columbus Day. ...

  Twisted Ink   The legends float down the long ago, Bone marrow memory breezes blow. Tales twisted by manipulative ink: Ancient truth shrouded indistinct.   They mechanized the magic and we lost, They monetized the magic at cost. Warnings couched in old fable Myth the paid-for label.   Now we search for visions in the dust, Or through prophecy covered in rust. Chasing oracle because we must, Hoping to catch a vision in the dust.   Tribes described experience, Scribes guided by expedience. Ancient knowledge thrown away, So much less is known today.   Cataclysm and impending doom, Catastrophe unknown looms. Perils survived we forgot, Retold by seers we count for naught.   So we search for visions in the dust, Or through prophecy covered in rust. Chasing oracle because we must, Hoping to catch a vision in the dust.   Discount the olden ways, Mistrust the ancient days. Millenia that ...

  Circles   Brightly colored robes that fade when seen, Full feasts in an empty canteen. Flashing entertainments gone routine, One after the other scripted scene.   Overlord of the endless dune, Walled away in a stone cocoon. And day after day the repeated rune, And no one to read but a silent moon.   And he calls upon a deity’s name To curse a sky that will not rain, And though he shouts from night to noon, There is none to hear but the silent moon.   Monotonous days dully stark, Hoary haze in the glaring dark. Shifty sands the only landmark, Repeat always the endless arc.   Walled away, he is marooned, A king perhaps or some tycoon. And he thinks of no one else to impugn, Than the unhearing disc of the silent moon.   And he calls upon a deity’s name To curse a sky that will not rain, And though he shouts from night to noon, There is none to hear but the silent moon.   Riches that he...

  Spell Checked   Dark mage older than his name, Dark pages soiled and stained. Dark pronouncements misspoken, Dark demand without token.   Shaking hands, the potion marred, Items too precious to discard. The spell is spoken without regard – Nothing remains but broken shard.   Wanderer between the veils, Lost in time, Lost in miscue. Conjuror conscripted to travail, Lost and entwined, Lost to taboo.   Lost in invalid comprehension. Lost to voodoo suspension. Lost to misjudged intention, Accursed and lost between dimension.   Cast adrift, the spell endures, Sorcerer in arcane detour. A suffering that remains obscure, An existence of the unmoored…   Wanderer between the veils, Lost in time, Lost in miscue. Conjuror conscripted to travail, Lost and entwined, Lost to taboo.   Drifting, drifting, Lost in dark unshifting. Spinning, spinning, No end nor beginning. Falling, fa...

  In Time   If we were moved away in Time, how would we know? Are we carried along in cosmic flow? Forward we fly as some wayward wind blows: Sometimes it speeds, sometimes too slow. When did our fluid history go into this tailspin? Were we flung by some rascal djinn? Some hole opened and we fell in. Is there no single moment we can pin?   Somewhere, somehow we jumped the track, And now there is no going back.   What cackling maniac pulled a lever? Who shunted us onto the path of return never? Now we travel some alternate wherever, Spinning in some psycho cycle forever. Now we are blown across Time as a weightless feather: Some fool severed the tenuous tether, And all that’s ahead is ever stormier weather, Like it or not we are in this together.   Fallen into the deepening crack. And now there is no going back.   Now we wander this shuddering space, Out in Time and out of place, With nothing against wh...

  Pigeon Parade   See the pigeons parade before your eyes, Begin the tax-free enterprise. You watch them stumble in the dark, How long does it take to make your mark?   Slick talk, schtick walk, get them to gawk, You’ll be gone before they take stock. Line ‘em up and knock them down, You just might be the worst game in town.   Long game, insane, It’s a wonder anyone Knows your real name. No shame, bad strain, It’s a wonder anyone Allows you to maintain.   Is there to be a public offer? Is there to be a peek into the coffer? Prepare the distracting display: You do best when they look the other way.   Shuffle them up, where is the queen? You are the best they have never seen. Keep them guessing and you keep them in play. Keep them impressed and you keep them prey.   Long game, insane, It’s a wonder anyone Knows your real name. No shame, bad strain, It’s a wonder anyone Allows you to main...

  The Grey Company   Grey cloaked, grey eyed, Toward doom they ride. To the West the fell beast flies, And thus fear and Shadow rise.   Forth! you Ranger! And no courage lack! From the Dark Tower nine ride in black. Soon even the safest lands are overrun, And all minds bent to the One.   Forth! you Ranger! The sun shines still! Against the Shadow you must pit your will. Now the darkest path will you roam, And yet the Evenstar shall call you home.   Grey cloaked, grey eyed, Toward doom they ride. To the West the fell beast flies, And thus fear and Shadow rise. Grey cloaked, grey eyed, To battle they ride! Ever the Shadow they pursue, Grey Company hard and true.   Forth! you Ranger! Traitor makes his plan! On the stern face of the rock you stand. Soon the Grey Company arrive, Among the Dead you will soon stride.   Forth! you Ranger! The black ships sail! Under the Shadow the sun will pale. ...

  Bullets and Bread   Nightly the great one took to his bed. He did not sleep there but proclaimed instead. About persecution and new bloodshed, And the guns started firing and no one was fed. And the news guy asked as the war spread, “What is going on inside your head?” And to the newsman he smiled and he said, “See how we exchange bullets for bread.”   Oil and water, Prayer and war. Getting bled dry at the grocery store. Pride and fear, Secrets and more. Who knows what’s next in store? Home and hearth, Worry and dread. Where have the brutish boots tread? Grease and gore, Awake and brain-dead: They would exchange bullets for bread.   Daily the great one is pried from his bed, Taken to the great hall, he’ll sleep there instead. There the cowardly circle his head, While to him only the best lies are fed. Down the poison primrose path he is led, That he may open his eyes and lose the thread. But should the peo...