CliffSongs

  The Unmaker   It had come from the Outside. Created from the never-dead hate That gnaws on itself.   Life and Light were the enemy, They were the everything it could never achieve, A Thing of failure and the absence of promise, A rage that had no focus, But only was. It would deny itself if it could.   The blue jewel beaconed, Fired with spirits of hope and help, Life was there. It ravened at the thought. It lusted for destruction, death, depression, doubt. It hurried.   At first it assaulted with fires and calamities, Earthquakes that changed continents, Diseases carried by the smallest among them. Still, they rebounded, Rebuilt, Resumed.   They drove it back knowing it not, A confidence in their own aggression. And therein lay the key…   Weapons it gave them, Knowledge of their construction, Faulted understanding of their world, Of the physical place they inhabited, Toys for dangerous children.   Then it gave

  Ownership   Today I owned a lib. Maybe he was a antifa. They never tell you when they are. I said TRUMP 2024! I felt some swelling in my pants. But that’s what happens When you eat too many tacos.   Today I owned a pedo. Maybe he was a fascist. He did not have a MAGA hat. He was reading to a child. I said GROOMER! The child called him “Dad.” Whatever that means.   Today I owned a commie. Maybe he was a BLM. Maybe he was a mail-in ballot. I said WOKETARD! Then he put his sticker on. It said, “I voted.”   Today I owned the Democraps. Maybe they were a science. They asked me to produce documentation. I said FAKE NEWS! Then they showed me video. I had to turn it off before I learned something.   Today I owned the left. That’s what I keep telling myself. That’s what I have to keep telling myself.   Cliff Lake 10/29/2022 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2022

  Fall Ye, Fall Ye   This is the story of the mighty Kanye, Who tried to promote him exactly the wrong way. He jumped on a stage where he acted all miffed, Dude, at that awards show, you just weren’t too swift.   This is the story of the proclaimed Yeezy, Your divorce battles left too many queasy. Now E! and People might be up for the drama, But you coulda done better by your baby’s mama.   This is the tale of the embattled Ye, Who struggled to keep lit up on marquee. He tried to appear as an artiste heretic, But really man, you’re just Anti-Semitic.   This is the story of nutso Kanye West, Whom now so many attempt to divest. He claims that his mental state is a real hassle, That’s not it, Kanye, you’re just a real asshole.   Cliff Lake 10/27/2022 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2022    

  Interata   How do you see yourself? Through spectacles reddened by chance, By tint? By temper? By tears?   How do you see yourself? Through age-spotted mirror: Reflection of mistakes made, Mistakes held, Mistakes forgotten?   How do you see yourself? Through the tales of others, Praises taken, Scoldings accepted, Remarks overheard?   How do you see yourself? By numbers accented with dollar signs, By the accumulation of acquaintance? Of children, Of lonely sigh spoken to the night?   How do you see yourself? Do you look from without? Do you look from within? Do you make compare to that which you aspire to? How do you see yourself?   Would you have us see you as you do?   How do you see yourself?   Cliff Lake 10/25/2022 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2022

  Our Day   A fading chance, their failing dance, Ritual held over from imperfect past. Sword held high, blinding clouded eye, Opposing a future arrived at last.   Ragged remnants of imagined glory unlived, Marching in lockstep to defeat the specter, Of notionate monstrous elector, Of dying philosophy, they the protector.   Ear deafened by politician and priest, Constantly informing whom to like least. Enemy constructed of wind and mirror on the increase, Succumbed they are to spoken disease.   Armed and arming: oligarchy’s lance, A rabbled army for high finance, Willing to fight with ne’er the chance, To see their own ethereal fortune advance.   Blinded they are by the fogs and mist Of remote rulers making unfaithful tryst Wielded as a blinded, blunt, and bloodied fist, To pound down those that would resist.   Prided now they are of disinformation, Argument unreasoned in negation, They have purchased deluded salvation, Paid f

  No Loss?   Dusting off old lies, They scream of contrived assault. An unseen enemy made real by utterance, No need for substantiation, Volume solidifies. A trick writ for the unworthy, With unstung hand, And unbent back, Unskilled in anything save usury. Lessons from the past go unsung, Ignorance is more useful, Exploration is made strange, A new catechism learned by rote and repeat. Sour blood untasted, Flowing only in unreal cinema, Histories told in plastic, Or lowly electron, Easily ignored. A new Holy War is risen, The enemy clear, The outsider is not with us, And must be overcome. They march in ragged formation, Raging over imagined threats undefined, Except by otherness. They practice their clumsy thrust, The unskilled battery, Dreaming of the day their violence reaps gore. They believe they long to wade through bodies strewn, Horror long past their understanding. They are informed of an enemy, Be he friend or n

  Dehumanation   Raging against inevitabilities they can barely pronounce, They seek to make proof through violence, Doling unearned vengeances, Against those they already oppress.   Pronouncing inequities, They make attempt to elevate themselves, While wallowing in filthy degradation: Sins they will not allow others.   Dangerous toys they acquire, Undertaking betterment by way of suppression, Enmity is their religion, Greed their deity.   Unnerved they are by intellect, Ashamed that they are so easily seen, Naked to innocent eye, Exposed by accuracy and reality.   Untruths are spun into myths, Myths are woven into dogma, Dogma is accepted as canon, And dogma informs indoctrination.   Lost now in emotion-fired doctrine, They march against all those undoctrined, Enemies found anywhere outside their creed, Worthy only of elimination.   Destruction is their last hold, Persuasion long beyond them, Brains boiled in lies and

  Democracy - 10/13/2022   Today we watched democracy when it works. Today we took another step towards reaffirming our laws. Today we held the accountable, accountable. Today we saw the criminals exposed. Today we saw the lawless called out. Today we saw the lies ripped apart. Today we saw the weak diminished. Today we saw cowards revealed. Today we saw truth walk in. Today we saw justice is not blind for long. Today we saw patriotism. Today we begin to rebuild the Republic. Today was a good day. As ugly as the truths are – Today was a good day.   Cliff Lake 10/13/2022 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2022

  Desperata   You ask why they follow him. You ask what the attraction can be. Because he's crass, And heartless, And greedy, And thoughtless and immoral, And stupid, and cowardly, And he's just like them. The world is slowly growing up and they will be left behind, And they know it. They fear it and hate it. There's no room on the planet for the bullying kind anymore. There’s no room on our earth for the users and the abusers. They tear into her as they tear into the population: Their malice is directed at everything and everyone that cannot get out of the way. But some things are bigger than them. Mother Earth is beginning to fight back, and they will neither acknowledge that nor listen to her. They have no place on this earth, And deep down, They know that too. So, they ignore the warnings and glory in their ability to chew faster, To bite deeper. To gnaw more completely. They make their cruel jokes and laugh wildly, An

  The Billionaire Hustle   Got another email from the chump, Lots of scary words, the usual hump. Back into spam I got to dump, I don’t need a grift from an orange lump.   Why I gotta pay to clean up his mess? No matter how he claims that he’s oppressed. I got my own bills to address, Is he a billionaire or is he less?   He’s your billionaire asking for money, Your billionaire begging, Isn’t that funny? He’s in your pocket, folks, And I’m laughing until I choke. Give him your last dime – ‘Cause it’s almost commissary time…   Of course, he’s gonna have a lot of lawyer fees, He’s never gonna pay them, I mean PLEASE. A billionaire like him, it should be a breeze, It’s not my bank account he should squeeze…   He’s your billionaire asking for money, Your billionaire begging, Isn’t that funny? He’s in your pocket, folks, And I’m laughing until I choke. Give him your last dime – ‘Cause it’s almost commissary time… I’m sure he’ll

  October: A When   Shadows waver in the thin light. Pale and lifeless under a sky strewn with torn clouds overlapped, And swiftly moving. There is no warmth in this morning sun, A lingering frost attests to its defeat. The low steady breeze saps heat beneath layered clothing, Dry and steeled, it seeks exposed flesh, gnawing. A look westward yields only a gathered indistinct gray, The flat cover of clouds without enough moisture, If it would only rain, then it would finally clear, But today is given over to shroud, And the whisper of winter not yet arrived. The ache begins now, Perhaps ankle or knee, a wrist, an elbow, Or low in the back, the old injury. We all have one. A cold low murmur telling tales of incautiousness and accident, Unmeant and unwanted, collected from life. This is a bell that will ring all day. Only minutes under sky have stolen what heat you thought to hoard, One human’s effort pitted against inexorable nature. Only tim

  Once and Never   I really wasn’t ready For the time that you weren’t there. I didn’t and you hadn’t, And no one seemed to care. They lined up oh so closely, We didn’t have a chance, They stared at us morosely, And slowly began the dance.   I stood off to the sidelines I knew it would begin. Watching the surly bride’s hinds, They came up to my chin. There was much I could have done then, But fate will have its way, I meandered into the den, To watch the children bray.   They were loud and so offensive, I enjoyed it while I could. They were really reprehensive, And surely up to no good. The made a fancy tier cake Out of shoes and Elmer’s Glue I reprimanded them for their peers sake, And shoved them up the flue.   I was forced back to the party By the butler stern and tall. Who rescued the sooty children, And rolled them in a ball. He rolled them down the hallway, Into a garden near. And planted them head downwards,

  October: The Where   Dusk. The in-between time. Mists hide in the tree line, Insubstantial and too real, Making the minutes elastic. What calls to you now from the roughly familiar? What comes near? Disquieted steps taken, Into the familiar unknown. The paths you know lead to places they have never gone before - Too near to the damp places that do not dry. A déjà vu here. A memory cobwebbed. Misted and near only now. And only then. A dream forgotten and lived once, But vaguely, Vaguely. Then. You almost didn't get back. Then. The thought of it smells like yesterday’s campfire: Acrid and wet. Only then. You almost didn’t get back, did you?   Did you?   Boulders you knew now squat unfamiliar, Shrubs raking with barbed tendril, Blood not offered in twilight, And taken anyway. Fallen branches squirm in the half-light, Are they moved by the mist? Do they reach unknowing? Does the haze return their sentience, A