CliffSongs

Dark Path   The dark path, Rocky, Brambled, Shrouded in mists and Noisome fumes, He can go back, But there, It is darker. He forges on. To each side are pitfalls, Into them He has fallen. More than once he has fallen. He has taken bruises, He has been cut, He has taken breaks, But he has not broken. The way is dark yet, He forges on. Has he wished for light? Most assuredly, And the dark has been pierced, Briefly, And sometimes from a distance, And always Dark returns. For this space is darkness surrounding, With brilliant points illuminating, Themselves surrounded. This he sees and He forges on. The path is ever before him, Dark as it is, And trails behind, Where it is so much darker. No matter, He forges on.   Cliff Lake 12/11/2024 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2024

  Wichita Walkway   See the greenspaces collect their trash, A convenience unlooked for! Hidden beneath the arbor, One merely lets go, What could be easier? See the Styrofoam cups flower! Such a Quik Trip from the hand to the ground. See the plastic bags wander! Blown on the breezes as leaves From the trees they would smother. See the pop cans sparkle! Crushed underfoot by the manly. What exquisite reminders of carelessness. How the squirrels must envy our crafts! Perhaps they will nest In the discarded clothing items, yes? Perhaps the cardboard containers Were just what they needed. How fortunate is Nature, That we trash her freely, So that small creatures May make use of our poisons, Our detritus, Our ignorance. Perhaps if there were more walkways, We could stop recycling altogether! What a bright future is ours!   Cliff Lake 12/10/2024 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2024

  More or Less   The world is stupid. Not the one we live on – Nothing makes more sense Once understood. The stupid part Is the part we made, The one that’s supposed to be More comfortable, More comforting, More convenient, And instead has been reduced to simply “More” More people, More damage, More heat, More garbage. Yet somehow more have less than ever. Less freedom, Less opportunity, Less security, Less help. As we ravage the planet more, The prospect of her recovery becomes less. And we couldn’t be more stupid about it. Still, those with more, Wish we would talk less of the stupidity, And work more, For less. And the stupid among us, Couldn’t care less. Because all they want is More. They cannot see That as time goes on, They will pay more, And get less. Though I believe they will get more stupid… And continue to be careless.   Cliff Lake 12/9/2024 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2024

  Puppets and Master   Puppet master, will you fail faster? Are your webs blown on the breeze? Your fingers buried in too many pies, Your minions rise off their knees.   Puppet master, what new disaster Creeps closer to minareted castle? Puppet master, you old spellcaster, You’ve lost another vassal.   What happens as they dance harder? No longer docile underlings. What have you left to barter? Choking on the puppet’s strings.   Puppet master, democracy blaster, Will you need to grow some wings? Puppet master, better choose your pasture, The world has had enough of kings.   What happens as they dance harder, Are you going through some things? One less mouth in the larder, Your puppets cutting their strings.   Cliff Lake 12/8/2024 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2024

  Rollertoasted   He tells you to watch what THEY are doing, With his hand in your pocket again. It’s the same old bait and switch, You have been falling for since I don’t know when.   Everyone else is a THEM these days, A factoid requiring nothing like proof. Shady rhetoric all draped in gray, A mockery and inversion of truth.   This is the ride you wanted: A rollercoaster gone far beyond the track. This is the collide you wanted, The crash is coming and it’s too late to turn back.   Watch the lords of collusion line up, They know where their bread is buttered. Watch as they get their noses shined up, Knowing what the deal was with the first words uttered.   You traded freedom for snide remarks: It’s oligarchy for the win! Now you start to see things as they go dark, The Great Oppression is about to begin.   This is the ride you wanted: A rollercoaster gone far beyond the track. This is the col...

  Grind   The minions sing the phrases taught them By the Witless Wizard as he spins wrong legends round, The chorus that blinds them eagerly, To the machine that grinds them down.   The Wandering Warden berates them as he will, And lets his hounds howl at every unwanted sound. And goads the people to dig frantically for the fuel That fires the machine that grinds them down.   The Callous Crows that haunt the House, So casually they trash the town. They feather their nests with their own foul, Working the levers of the machine grinding down.   Gray Lady and her matrons Selling the wrong words in ever-tattered gown, Their knees scabby and bloody, As they service the machine that ground them down.   The Jargon Jurists jockey for Judas coin, See their noses go brown. They waylay the justice they wield, Greasing the gears of the machine in which they’re ground.   Somewhere the eagle may soar high above,...

  Good Talk   I take my little worries And lay them out for all to see, But I do not listen in return: Those people aren’t me. There are many inconveniences, That I must talk about, And that I find them most concerning, I will leave hardly any doubt. Listen close and don't interrupt And yes, you may have concerns of your own, But you’ll have to wait this out Until mine are completely overblown. You see, my life is a tad boring, It’s lacking in any real drama, So, before we hear your sad little tale, Let me relate my ten-dollar trauma. It’s horrific and as detailed as you can imagine, Be a pal and keep yours to yourself, Because I’m counting on draining your compassion. There was the parking lot incident, And there was a rude cashier, And some loud children playing, And I’ve had it up to here! My favorite soda is in short supply, And Amazon is late, And someone left the milk out again, And overall, I’m not feeling great. But...

  Shadow Guard   Battle-weary, riding the shaded-way, Tired and torn, warding against the strange and the fey. Unseen if they should pass even by day, Unsung troopers to keep darkness at bay.   Passing silent, dressed in gray, They speak not, what could they say? From their purpose they do not stray: Outside evil ever their prey.   In your dreams, They may be seen, Both more and less, Than they seem. They fade away, Amid the moonbeam, Dim warriors, To guard the between.   Heavy on them the task does weigh, To fend off sorrow and dismay. Ever closing iniquitous gateway, Ever the foul do they waylay.   In your dreams, They may be seen, Both more and less, Than they seem. They fade away, Amid the moonbeam, Dim warriors, To guard the between.   Without name Without home Without succor To ever roam. Without clan, Without fame. Without consort, Without acclaim.   In ...

  A Lady Waits   She looks on with tear-filled eyes, As her children take up sides against one another: Misconstruing her meaning as hard as they can. She has withstood assaults in the past: Vile caricatures of humanity, That have attempted to quench her flame, Or usurp it for their own purposes, In preparation for such an extinguishment. Now the forces of greed and selfishness, Assemble their underinformed minions, Baiting them with lies and misrepresentations, Distracting the easily misled with pretty poisons, Hiding their own identities as the vipers they are. She must look on with hardened eyes, An emblem of what could be, Of what has briefly been, If not for everyone equally. And therein lies the conflict: Too many think so little of themselves, And the mess they would live in, Most of their own making, That they would deny those they can oppress The same opportunities they have squandered. No interest have they in fairnes...

AI News Machine   Cable news scrambles for cable views, Sacrificing integrity right on cue. Gray Lady makes her knee to bend, This is the beginning of the greasy end.   This is the best of journalism’s disgrace, Keeping the intentional morons square in their place. And now to protect the wholly unclean, They will roll out the AI News Machine.   Here comes the AI News Machine: Projecting the new backwards dream. It doesn’t make sense, But at least it’s intense, Just swallow what you see on the screen.   Program the bots for stories impossible. Add in a healthy dose of the most shockable. Try to keep the gullible on the edge of their seat. Fending off the learning of deeds indiscrete.   Nothing of substance, an empty calorie cuisine, Keep them distracted with the false unforeseen. Make them believe words don’t mean what they mean, After being chewed up and spat up by the AI News Machine.   Here comes the...

  Shiny Eyes   He celebrates his disease With the utmost perseverance: Glad recidivist. He mocks those Who will not join his decay: Mad ridiculoust. There is never enough, Too much will kill him, A balance He will not maintain. The numbing is welcome, While the mind diesels forward: A train barely on the tracks, Always careening. Dart of the shiny eyes, A dance performed in the face. The drip. The Drip. Oh, the Drip! There is a speck on his suit. There is a speck on his suit. There is a speck on his suit. There is a speck on his suit. Noises unexplained. Are they here? Do they know? They can’t know, He was ever too careful… Noises unexplained… The trash is evidence, Everyone knows that. Is there more? There must be more. Get some more. He needs more, He always needs more… Everyone he knows is a junkie – But he maintains, yes, He maintains. He’s good at that. He has said so many times. Everyon...