CliffSongs

  Out on the Slip-Side   They said. They said it was wrong in there. They said you could end out on the slip-side. They said that’s where the shapes don’t.   Whiskey courage and her promise if. The door not falling off its hinges, The building falling down around. Locked against the unwilling.   Click of the lock as my hand grasps. The handle turns too eager. The ancient entry noiseless allows. Weird welcome.   They said this is where. They said this is not where. Out there on the slip-side. Out there where the shapes won’t.   It’s too dark for so much light. The roofless span open to a sky of no-color. Sound falling dead at my feet. No echoes but for the giggle.   They said it was empty except. They said to back out in my prints. They said there was nothing to fear. They said don’t turn around.   Behind me the hot breath freezes. Behind me the fossiled stench coils. Behind me the giggle reaches. Behind me my prints

  Lantern Jack and Friend   Lantern Jack was getting ready, His finest suit tattered just so! This night always made him feel heady, He kept it ensconced in one elbow.   Jack was prepared for Mischief Night, His favorite for midnight haunting. Shrieking horror his delight, Normally it was not daunting.   But this time Jack was prevented prowling, Outside his door our Jack was smitten. All fur and fang and miscreant yowling, Lantern Jack picked up the kitten.   Orange-eyed, hissing and spitting, The creature displayed nothing like dread. Claws and teeth that were not quitting, Jack had to reattach his head.   Lantern Jack had no companion, To accompany his frightful game, He now allowed that he had one, “Hellcat”, he said, “Shall be your name.”   Hellcat he fed on things I won’t mention, Suffice to say that they were horrible. Lantern Jack fulfilled intention: Hellcat became incorrigible.   Jack cannot not be found tormenti

  Once   Once, they lived in two realms: This Earth and far-off Faerie. Once, they lived alongside us, Sometimes tricksters, Sometimes offering small boon, Always warding against True Evil. Once.   Once, the raveners stood in thwart, Consigned to the wide places outside. Once, the fiends were barred, Beyond rampart, Beyond curtain, Always stalking the boundary. Once.   Once, the whispers against Faerie took root, Sidelong glances and fear of the other. Once, talk from the shadows was debated, Evidence muddied, Rumor allowed, Always sold as objective regard. Once.   Once, our guardians were put to measure, Dark mutterings not always dispelled. Once, they were distracted from the borders, Bounds degraded, Imps slip, Always influencing from dark places. Still.   Once, we banished the protectors, Cast them to the vacant outside. Once, we did not fear the darkness, Vigilant guards, Ethereal brothers, Always waitin

  Season’s Daughter   She feeds on moonlight. The frail luminescence nourishes, And strengthens her. She is silver steel under the orb, And she moves like water.   She walks in her own shadow. Swiftly passing, You only ever see her leave, Her approach obscured in light, Her quit soon insubstantial.   Her paths are long memory, Passed from mother to mother, Generations lost in time. Her track long laid before her, She is past and future.   Her charge is but to live, To be here, In this place, At this time. Long years before her task is done.   She sleeps in starlight, Far miles behind, And more ahead. Scant hours for rest, The trail ever beckons.   She brings the seasons, Each in their turn. The trees shall sleep now, Unburdened of their summer dress, And we will bed down for winter.   Cliff Lake 10/27/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023

  Voluntary Ghoul   Little person with your fears and your tears, Burrowed deep inside your brain, Special plantings to twist you, Courtesy of corporate gains.   Listen to the scary ones, Play them on repeat. Learn the hate that appeases you, Let it sink into bone and meat.   They are out there, The ones that stole your dreams. Get your satisfaction, Listen to their screams.   Strap on your killing cock. Fuck ‘em with flying lead. That doesn’t make your wee-wee hard? Just mow them down instead.   Oh, how they are oppressing you, It’s all according to plan. Continually besting you, And it’s getting out of hand.   All those others you are warned about, They keep on getting nearer. It’s up to you, no time to doubt, Your mission’s getting clearer.   Strap on your killing cock. Fuck ‘em with flying lead. That doesn’t make your wee-wee hard? Just mow them down instead.   Cliff Lake 10/26/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lak

  Clauses 15 and 16   Your NRA primer in hand, Waving your 15 around, Like you’re taking some kind of stand. Well, it ain’t you taking the heat. It ain’t you gunned down in the street. You don’t see the blood pooling at your feet.   “What we need is a good guy with a gun!” Well, there’s a bad guy out there with one. You cross his trail I bet you cut and run. “Shall not be infringed!” you cry. That’s the only part you know, my guy. There’s more to it and you can find it if you try.   There’s more than Breitbart There’s more than Fox. Come out of that echo box. Why is it truth you fight? But I’m asking: How can the facts hurt you? It’s only knowledge… Get your mind right.   We’ve seen children massacred in their schools. Still we suffer these blood lusting fools, Who claim they’re pro-life while the cooling blood pools. Why are you so beholden to a killing machine? How can you ignore the terrified screams, Of dying children who

  Class Act   Kindergarten is closed in Manhattan, Engoron has hard lessons to teach, To the spoiled brat in the hot seat, Who doesn’t believe he’ll get detention.   Kindergarten is closed in Manhattan, The judge says playtime is over. No more pushing and shoving, Take your seats and follow the rules.   Kindergarten is closed in Manhattan, Judge Engoron is scoring the tests. One fail already and class isn’t over yet. Comprehension now is key.   Kindergarten is closed in Manhattan, Engoron has the report cards in hand. Does the defendant get along well with others? He may not make the grade…   Kindergarten is closed in Manhattan, That’s what Arthur says. He supplies the defendant with 10,000 reasons To shut the fuck up for once.   Cliff Lake 10/25/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023

  Flippin’   There’s a new game in town, If you don’t want to go down, It’s called flippin’. Those Trump codefendants, Who are shitting their pants, They are flippin’. There’s Kenny, and Jenna, And Sydney’s there too, See them flippin’. Oh yes, Donny it’s true, They are turning on you, They are flippin’.   They are telling their tales, Just like coffin nails, You find yourself being boxed in. Your excuses gone stale, Just another Trump fail, Can I visit the room you’ll be locked in?   Your mean Kraken team, Just some coked-up dream, They are flippin’. “Stand back and stand by” Hey there loser guy, Are you trippin’?   Just in how many cases Will your thugs slip their traces? They are flippin’. You thought they were fools, See you taken to school, By their flippin’.   They are telling their tales, Just like coffin nails, You find yourself being boxed in. Your excuses gone stale, Just another Trump fail, Can I

  The Lawn   Johnson knew what he wanted; his feelings always sure, Johnson always got what he wanted; a soul not always pure. Johnson, once a poor man, took what he craved from life, Johnson, not a nice man, feared not the use of knife.   Johnson took what you never gave, Johnson would dance upon your grave.   Gabriel, versed in the Old Way, lived but a door away. Gabriel prayed for a neighbor; he knew of Johnson’s way. Gabriel was quite familiar with his neighbor’s rantings, Gabriel found it wisest to shun such foolish pantings.   Gabriel pursued only the right. Gabriel danced for it in the night.   Johnson had a beautiful home with but one pain in the ass – Johnson had a lawn chock full of crabgrass. Johnson’s desire of a fine lawn soon became his need, John arranged to pay little for only the best seed.   Johnson watched the seedsmen well. Johnson gave the seedsmen hell.   Gabriel watched his neighbor’s poison and was filled with

  Wash, Rinse, Defeat   A stumble, and the inevitable tumble, A vote and the inexorable fumble. The persuasions and the dissuasions, And the smackdown sure to humble. Another day gone far astray, Watch the GOP resolve crumble. Given his pallid demonstrations, During his investigations How could ol’ Gym not bleat and bumble?   How can you expect to lead, When you are always beyond the pale? We cannot give you what you need, Your only way forward is to continually fail.   Is the weekend upon us, will you run away? Or are you up for another try at the fray? Put another MAGA up, how many Dems do you sway? When you keep backing up, they can’t meet you halfway. While you keep falling down, you will make no headway, While you’re fooling around, you will earn no leeway, There IS common ground, we can all find a way, If you find someone reasonable, whadda ya say?   How can you expect to lead, When you are always beyond the pale? We cannot

  A Small Jolly   Ssshk-ssshk-ssshk. That’s how it goes, isn’t it? Ssshk-ssshk-ssshk. A ritual for this time of year only: Ssshk-ssshk-ssshk.   Ssssshht. Ssssshht. Ssssshht, The slow drag now, Ssssshht. Ssssshht. Ssssshht. This walking entertainment: Ssssshht. Ssssshht…   Ssshk-ssshk-ssshk. The changeup! What fun! Ssshk-ssshk-ssshk. An amusement best enjoyed solo: Ssshk-ssshk-ssshk.   SSSHK! SSHK! SSHK! A forceful application! SSSHK! SSHK! SSHK! How the frail corpses fly! And settle… to: Ssshk-ssshk-ssshk.   Ssshk-ssshk-ssshk. Almost home now, Ssshk-ssshk-ssshk. One more big run at – …       HEY!!! WHO RAKED THE LEAVES HERE????   Cliff Lake 10/18/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lake

  The Night Caller   What tainted wind brings him, What dread longing calls? A hunter yes, And a taste for the red.   A night-thing, No light will abide him. A shadow sometimes, And wings in the dark.   A lust in carmine, A thirst forever unslaked, A death and a life, Bereft of the ecstasies of torment.   Long years that stretch the centuries, The long sleep abandoned, A continuance half in the grave, Half in the hunt.   What tainted wind brings him? What dread longing calls? Have you heard his song in your black heart? Will you too walk on the other side of light?   Cliff Lake 10/18/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023

  Empty House   Where have they gone, Why have they flown? Do they think we’ll forget Their incapacity shown? Ring-Around-The-Podium, The GOP at play. Ignoring the public’s odium, They’ll get more nothing done come Monday.   And they file in once more, Because it’s Speaker voting season. Will they ever make it to the floor, Maybe someone normal can ease in. Lock the gate and bar the door, Time to get their legalese on. And we hope they accidentally, Commit an act of reason.   It’s time for nomination, What’s the worst that can hap? Settle for some abomination, Insecure under its red cap? Some frothy-mouthed automation Sputtering the same useless pap. Or can we hope for a cessation, Get someone reasonable and call it a wrap?   And they file in once more, Because it’s Speaker voting season. Will they ever make it to the floor, Maybe someone normal can ease in. Lock the gate and bar the door, Time to get their legalese on

  Hammer Time   Kevin McCarthy, used and disposed, Because he allowed something to get done. Elevated and then deposed, Kevin was over before he’d begun.   From the ashes the proposal cast: A Gym membership is the way to go. But the voting past him passed, Leaderless, they’re on with the show.   So read the leaves and rattle the beads, It’s time to vote for Speaker again! Pull someone out of the weeds, Give him the hammer and then, Let him deal with the bad seeds, Wielding authority they let him pretend.   Now the secret shenanigans begin anew, The scream of the crop behind closed door, They pass the brain around, so they know what to do, God help us if they find them one more.   So read the leaves and rattle the beads, It’s time to vote for Speaker again! Pull someone out of the weeds, Give him the hammer and then, Let him deal with the bad seeds, Wielding authority they let him pretend.   Cliff Lake 10/12/2023 Copyright

  Downhill Run   Driverless and careening, The miscarriage Rumbles and creaks without destination, A headlong rush into the don’t care, Into the don’t know, Into an oblivion unseen, unexpected, And inevitable. The miscarriage, Powered by it’s asses in the traces, Piled high with packs of empty promise, Crashing again and again Into abutments and barriers, Blockages erected to re-true it’s aim, It’s occupants screaming to change course, Yet none with the reins in hand. The miscarriage, It’s passengers crazily eager for more speed, Rushes ever more madly on its downhill run, Unmindful that its trajectory Can only end in a sudden   Stop.   The miscarriage, Constructed of lies and empty ire, Painted in slogan and artifice, Reels ever downward, Its impetus governed by gravity, And a lack of foresight in its occupants. From among their collective blindness, A new driver will be chosen, To spur them ever onward, Into inevitab