CliffSongs

  Sounds of an Elder Dream   When the stars align in ancient design, When iron fails and the curtain between worlds rolls back, Will you trust to mages and runes writ for your protection, In hidden places before time was time, That still whisper in your psyche, Beneath the noise of this world?   Races of an elder time lay sleeping between your dreams. Called forth when galaxies collide, Releasing energies long forgotten and little used, Save for spites and petty gain. Will you recognize your lost brothers then? Or will you name them monster once more?   Let them teach you again the songs of the butterfly, Let them show you the colors known only in moonlight. Let them guide you to swim through the trees, And show you how to walk between raindrops. Let them serve you wine brewed in the tulips, Let them gird you in armor that will not yield to steel.   For in those days the sorcerer in pretty guise Will be among you seeking ruin. Then will

  The Live Ammo Boogie   Maybe that teacher is gay at the school, And turn your boy into some prissy fool, Who talks about ending fossil fuel, And how your 4-wheeler ain’t cool, And what are you gonna do about it?   And maybe the Mexicans are taking jobs, And maybe it’s illegal to fix that with a lynch mob, And maybe all the libs are elitist snobs, And think you’re just some worthless slob, And what are you gonna do about it?   And now all your talk is done, And you only have this option one, And the Democrat is coming for your gun, And I get all that, but tell me son: Why did you shoot all the children?   And maybe they think you’re some stupid chump, Who don’t know about that dirty hump, And how they will illegally arrest Trump, And now it’s time to give these bastards a thump, And what are you gonna do about it?   And now all your talk is done, And you only have this option one, And the Democrat is coming for your gun, And I

  Revelations 2.0   Hear now children, The legend never told, For the time is come To retrieve what we never held. See the secrets now unveiled, Showing what has never been, That we may take, What will not be given. Make now your commitment, To the Juggler Thief, That he may rise and rule, Forgetting and failing Every promise made. Take your stand, In the mudded ground You have been brought to And look there for the milk and honey, Given to those whose larders overflow. Gird yourself against dangers unseen But foretold by those well protected. For the days have wound down And the end is come, And will come again tomorrow. And should the learned man say other, Remember your faith is a shield, And to chamber a round just in case.   Cliff Lake 1/26/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lake

  The Double Down   The lobbyist with somber views, Looks over the morning news. Saturday night, bullets take flight, Monterey finds itself in mourning. Baton Rouge checks in, 12 injured, and the spin, Needs its push to keep on turning. NRA senators, Neatly bought and paid for, Flip through Bibles And other SA2 documents of renown. Lobby Congress step up, You drank fully from this cup, Time for you to do the Double Down.   Double Down Ted, Just rearrange what you said, For Buffalo, Club Q, and Uvalde, Double Down Lauren, Marjorie, Paul, and all, And those lobby funds You will keep on scorin’.   The gun exec at home, Won’t face the travail alone, A call to Kevin won’t miss. Ever mindful of production, And a crisp bill’s seduction, And his stocks’ drop he can resist. The lobbyist needs assurance, That his built-in insurance Increases, not decreases, The revenue in new sales. So, his pocket politicians, Must now go al

  The Jack of Snakes   Oiled words were spake by the Jack of Snakes, It slithered on two legs into the contest. The courtiers there looked away without care, Eyes only on the conquest. The Jack of Snakes would cover past mistakes, With lies of a certain imprecision. The courtiers share the creeping snare, Their Jack is met with derision. Reminded of old crimes from earlier times The Jack of Snakes provides a new name. But the records of sin pierce the veil grown too thin, The Jack of Snakes cannot hide his true game. So, he struts the hall, thumbs his nose at all, Refuses to accept abdication. The Jack of Snakes will not relinquish his big break, Though he be far above his earned station. So, after all, we must watch his slow fall, The Jack of Snakes under focused inspection. Now courtiers must care for their own seat in chair, How long can they afford his protection? Now the Jack of Snakes has played the high stakes, With naught more than

  A Hush of Winter   The melancholy of the winterscape is told in quietude: The bird does not sing, But stands puffed on the branch, Head huddled in feather. Should he fly, His wingbeat is stark, Breaking a silence Underscored by the creak of the branch just left. A soft sigh may play, A breeze stirring nothing, Detritus weighed down by frozen snow. Such winds do not curtail the silence, But accentuate it: The carried voice of a dog left outside too long. Traffic is sparse for no better reason Than to remain inside, Shunning the stillness, That is somehow only partly dispelled By the carnival barkers shouting from TV. Now mothers hush their children, The gray quiescence Takes offense at the shrill merriment, Books and crayons are dispensed, Board games thrust into unwilling hands. The wait then is for the new snow, Then will lively gangs of youth Shout against the white empty. But today only the lone wingbeat sounds, A flutter

  2 Minutes to 9   It's 2 minutes to 9 and the bar downstairs just opened for the night. But I will not find my solace there. Too many desperate faces trying to shut out the night, Too many hollow laughs, hiding too little care.   Through the floor come the raucous conversations, And the laughs that sound like screams. Punctuation effected by pounding on tables, Remind me of my own extremes.   Alone in their bottles, They visit imposed fun until The door is locked behind them. Alone with each other, Or a borrowed lover, With blurry memory to remind them. Alone in the bottles. Alone. When they go home. So many alone.   It's 2 minutes to 9 and the bar downstairs just opened for the night. And I have no solace upstairs. Too many blank pages I’m working to get the words right, As the noise of at least some life seeps up to my lair.   Downstairs they plug dollars in to hear the same song again, So that they don’t have to pay

  Light and Sight   Winter’s drear brightened by sun on snow, Cold, and deadly, and beautiful. It can be hazarded for a brief time, But when too chill makes you drowse, The deepest sleep one will ever have.   Singing sands are there for the listening ear, Fresh water may not be close. A day’s journey for wondrous diversion. But watering the senses does not slake a thirst, Mind and body have their demands.   The second home standing alone at the lakeside, Cleaned and made use of perhaps twice the year. Paid for in hours that ignore more common relations, A status that chews at the heart in more than one way, A life lost between floors of an elevator shaft.   Smiles that coruscate at every instance, An indicator of promise unsaid. A shining lamp given to everyone, To take place of what cannot be spoken. Skulls grin permanently when stripped of the flesh.   I stand at a window wondering what it shows me, Am I fully aware of what my sig

  Proofs   I must now state that Given the research I have conducted On my own through use of Bing And given that my research supports Conclusions I came to Without prior knowledge of Data I have not read yet It seems very clear I cannot be wrong. Moreover, in my next podcast My theory will be proven With figures I gathered From the people next door. They are the only experts I have much faith in As they always tell me What I want to hear. In fact, their agreement with My hypothesis is generally based on A rumor that got popular At the end of last year. It was heard at a protest Outside of a library That had hired a person That dressed in a manner That some people found unsettling And also, they could not be From around here. This rumor was verified shortly thereafter By the mechanic’s wife At the bar later on. Two days later I read it On some liberal website That said not to believe it So, it must be true. Anoth

  Constancy   Missteps may only be counted once, But the distance they cover may be too great for retreat. A lie told in haste is still a lie, It catches up, no matter how quick the feet.   Distracted, attention fractured, chores numbly effected, Chasing thoughts that seem to have little to say. Opaqued contemplation mired by misgiving, What vague dissatisfaction haunts me through the day?   Inconstant heralds pledging new promise, In place of the covenant, they chose to forbear. Could this be the source of my misted disquiet, Are we to fall to some yet unseen snare?   Missteps may only be counted once, But the distance they cover may be too great for retreat. A lie told in haste is still a lie, It catches up, no matter how quick the feet.   Warnings dimly resound of betrayal, Turncoats and deceivers roam hallowed hall. Honest partners must now man the fortress, Together we must weather the squall.   Missteps may only be counted onc

The Transients   A farce writ out in madness and malice, A snake reduced to worm. The keys given over to thieves of the palace, The noxious fire still burns.   Long did we watch the backroom barter, Deals we would not countenance in home. A traitor at the wheel once the nonstarter, Product of repulsive syndrome.   Assurances spoke in midnight desperation, Caving to the fetid and soiled, Witness we are to a quisling’s castration, In hope comeuppance is foiled.   Will we at last see our republic corrupted, Oligarchs and their minions for the win? Are we to let rule of law be bankrupted, Has our resolve grown so thin?   Let them exult in their temporary achievement, Let them attempt their fiddling while they can, Rule of law suffers no cheap appeasement, We will hold, then overcome the straw man.   Cliff Lake 1/7/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023  

  A New Shadow   What darkness this now? A shade written by betrayers, Beholden to nothing save avarice, Bought with sly promise, Or poisons not yet served, But waiting still, Withheld only by words spoken, From both sides of the mouth. Crowding at the helm, Each would have their matters met, Overspeaking those of lesser cruelties, Or whom have yet to find a master, Or have crimes not so carefully hidden, But as yet undiscovered in full. Here they bite and scratch, Seeking footage in high places, Glory borrowed to be wielded incautiously, Loudly proclaimed in tarnished decree, Chores doled out for obscure gain, A sleight played out in public view. Petty grievance will be parceled here, Enemies imagined at will, Punished with slights and snubs, Or harassed by accusation of crimes, For which there are no laws. They will not trust each other, They will not trust anyone outside, They will not work toward anything productive, They

Image Where They Ate   Where They Ate And they sit in the shit pile they all took a crap in, And they wonder why it smells so bad. And they push each other in as they try to climb out, As they bet on the chances none of them ever had.   The losers congregate and plot divisively, Trying to explain plans the others won’t see. They haven’t the means so it never ends, The results of the loyalty they did so misspend.   Knives for the back are held in reserve. Really what these criminals do deserve. Jackals and snakes and rats to the floor, The parade of the miscreants in disordered corps.   And they sit in the shit pile they all took a crap in, And they wonder why it smells so bad. And they push each other in as they try to climb out, As they bet on the chances none of them ever had.   So they bray and they cackle and they shout each other down. Each of them trying their best to outclown The others they claim to have sworn brotherhood to, Ye

  The Reckoning   You want to punish them For wanting to punish you For not getting away with your crimes. But not everyone was involved And some are hanging onto Values you once represented Long ago voiced By champions who died in their defense. But now are tongues divided Unchorused and atonal A payment for choosing too many Of the worst set out for offer. Loyalties to clans Or to causes born of rottenness Stains of known offenses Marking a brood of infamy Desperate to remain uncalled To prosecutor’s review. These are the fruits Of an ugly seeding A harvest of callous regard Of norms and propriety. Now would you corral The hyenas you set loose Thinking you had a ringmaster With a ready whip hand. You bought this nightmare With what integrity you may have had You laid it down In favor of a fever and a fog You thought to perpetrate On a nation that is waking up Just in time. The fractures and the friction You are a

  Ode to a Failure   Kevin, O Kevin, not looking so smart. Kevin had lost before his race got its start. Kevin I mean this, it comes from the heart: We’re all laughing while you’re falling apart.   How much do you think your words really weigh? How did you ever hope to hold sway? How will you gain the gavel thisaway? How big is my smile at your disarray?   Now Bobo and Pedo-Gaetz and Scott Perry too, Have unresolved issues with allowing you through. It doesn’t seem as if you’re passing review, Perhaps that office move was a tiny miscue?   See, the GOP has a rep for throttling the throat, Of anyone not paddling the now swamping boat. Kevin, it’s just you, no more riding the coat, Of the disgraced conman who lost the vote.   So, Kevin all of the concessions you made, Aren’t paying off, looks like you got played, Off in the shadows you should have stayed, Cuz here comes ol’ karma throwing you shade.   Cliff Lake 1/3/2023    Copyright ©

A Confession of January 1, 2023   I cannot look at your eyes Without seeing. In them the stains of tears kept back Markers of hurts You didn’t try to avoid. I cannot tell you things Without hearing. Untold tales that say too much About everything Or nothing at all. I cannot walk with you Without staying. Too close to the places you will not visit Have never seen Or will not return to. I cannot look for you Without finding. You are hidden from all outside you While you walk in daylight And are not seen. I cannot listen to you Without telling. The things you will not know And have not asked And must never learn. I cannot be beside you Without leaving. The pieces of myself ungathered Unkempt and unkept And looking for somewhere to be. I cannot say anything to you Without meaning. To get at the bigger picture That we are in And are eating. I cannot stop seeing Without wishing for blindness. To a nightmare I canno