CliffSongs

  Turning Again   Now to the turning again: Artificial, Out of sync, The rhythm interrupted. We speak of beginnings, Of renewal, But the night is already relinquishing it’s hold… We miss the mark, We defy the pattern, We try impose our will on a natural order That ignores our puny attempt. It is only us that meet the seasons thus. Papered calculation, The days grow longer without our input, It has already begun. That is the true beginning, There is the renewal underway: Just days past, But we measure from a farther point,  And gain nothing. We celebrate vigorously our erstwhile computation, But the dark is already fading, The light is already strengthened, And we had no part in that. What is it then that we honor? Numbers only. Are we so fearful of this cosmos That we must ignore what always occurs In spite of our paltry pursuit of control? The tides still roll. The winds still pass us by. The moon waxes an...

  Fade   The magic wrested from the very ground, Malformed now and made to serve. What twisted malevolence conceives thus? What fractured discernment machines so?   The air clouds and thickens. The soil strains, forced to obedience. The waters oil and slime, Our legacy plotted in entropy. Who has stolen the enchantments? Some lingers, Fading, Fading. Is it recaptured in neon? Is it constrained to the ever-present auto-tune? Feeble imitations! Spirited away, Buried deep in leaden vaults, Concreted bunkers, Or hauled to high desert, Where the dunes swallow indiscriminate.   The magic annexed from the very ground! Malformed now and made to serve. What twisted malevolence conceives thus? What fractured discernment machines so?   An iridescence of existence sequestered. Why is not proper query. Who is easily guessed. When is now. How is the question. If one learns the how, The un-how becomes known....

  Luxury   What shall we say of the little luxuries? Not so much, Or everything, Though they matter not Outside of the personal demesne. Which have you taken up, Misunderstood but precious? What small tickle do you keep? Not some ravishing obsession, Expensive and selfish, But that private spark, Closely guarded, Indulged in, Having little import in the wide scheme, But valued just the same. What secret vanity have you, Or, What fixture gives you the modest delight, Yours alone, Winked at by the peer, Fostered by the loving. Some bauble, An entertainment, The hobby, Or the favored spot in the sun… Such as these May provide more rest Than a harsh chemical, Or too much acquiescence To unwieldy demand. So many of the very powerful Wear so sour the countenance: Satisfaction will never be theirs. Do not weep for them, That is the dream they purchased. Yet you may find contentment, yes? That piece of music, ...

  Influenca   They’re out there, Really out there… They critique the critic. They ruminate. They buzzard the news cycle. They fringe. They associate themselves with the infamous To create their own celebrity. They are hangers-on, Deniers of compatriotry, They are third-from-the-left, They are there. Click-baiters and namedroppers, Leeches of the electronic sort. They fester. They roil. They cogitate in wild supposition. They discuss. They detail. They leave out the salient. Infamy is their road, Notoriety their vehicle, Speculation their destination. Opinion distributors. Conspiracy providers. See them elucidate! Hear them decode! They illustrate their notions bravely! They expound assumptions in the face of logic! Courageous confusers. Contriving consultants. Who are we to provide fact? Don’t we know that their livelihood is at stake? How unjust it is to employ critical thinking When unjustifiable imagini...

  Black Pages   119 black pages Detail the sin. 119 black pages, Where to begin?   Pictures of pictures, they disappear. What is hidden becoming clear. Why deflect if there’s nothing to fear? Time of reckoning getting near.   Open the files wild and raw! Watch the DOJ break the law. Will we ever see what they saw: The ever-concealed fatal flaw!   119 black pages: They hide the lack of moral gauges. 119 black pages: The coverup still rages! 119 black pages: Prop up the shaking stages. 119 black pages: Within are sin’s wages.   Treating the populace as peasants, Robbing so many of innocence. People are no objects one can fence; Why do we still allow his putrid presence?   119 black pages: They hide the lack of moral gauges. 119 black pages: The coverup still rages! 119 black pages: Prop up the shaking stages. 119 black pages: Within are sin’s wages.   Running one half st...

  Before Akallabêth   The manuscript, an ancient tongue, The balance of nature is hung. The hourglass, the sands run thin, The warning unheard in machine din.   In candlelight the message clears: A tale of absent light for years. When monsters reared and trees were felled, Arda betrayed, the light was quelled.   An iron crown, a ring in stone, The Faithful weep, wander alone. Jewels by the mighty dark worn, Twisted heart kindled, blood oath sworn.   Who can move within the unlight? Who can undarken the dead night? Who makes claim with stolen right? What vengeance mars jewels burning bright?   The trees are wounded, their light is gone, Within the jewels their light lives on. But lies live in their maker’s breast, Away from Aman he now pressed.   Jealousy, greed, and now revenge, So much on other skill now depends. Their kin, the water folk defy, There by the Sea their bodies lie.   Fr...

  The Meet   Lurching through forest, spirit strewn, I chanced upon her: Woman Moon. Silver-fragile, hard as the night, Beckoned, led me to ancient rite.   An obscured path, the hidden glen, A rabbit warren, foxes den. Many creatures were gathered nigh, Observed this man with measured eye.   No fear here, nor cause for alarm, Austere Moon guards; keeps them from harm. Here hidden in primeval defile, Brought hence to answer to trial.   Then Woman Moon put forth the call: “Here stands Man, to rise or fall!” “Am I, just one man, to answer for all?” “One man may serve this protocol.”   Then far off some bell did chime, And we were separated from Time, Then Woman Moon spoke with hardened shine, Telling the tale of Mankind’s crime.   Long she spoke in forever night, Of pine and oak and creatures plight. Long I listened, and much heard, ‘Til she fixed her gaze on me: “Speak your word.”   I s...

  Rebuke   Not a day gone, Nor yet in the grave, The murdered lie cold, Yet your words run colder And thus Your cruelty is assured. Your shame spills over, Though you hold none of your own. Short-timer, there is much you could yet do, Besides mourning strictly over you. How brazen your lip service! You mourn your own renown, And place the blame Squarely where it must lie: With the victim, With the victim. What derangement grips you? Too often do you name yourself – Ever you claim fevered oppression Even as the invective flies from your lips, And the orders are made against those Who scry your sin. How many more can you repulse Before you stand alone? Your pursuit of isolation is too evident, May you be granted your boon, And be the victim, Be the victim. The lies no longer cover   Your expanding ass, The deflections you cast No longer obscure a revealing past. Teflon wears when scraped often, And you ha...

  The Real Fake News – 11 th Hour   President Trump today attended a brief news conference where his hand again showed evidence of bruising. Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt explained away the markings as a result of a “very energetic and athletic coin toss at the Army-Navy football game” before challenging several reporters to do the same, most of whom declined citing having to rectify disorganized sock drawers or issues with cuticle retention.   Lauren Boebert is launching her long-awaited “Humping Legs for Freedom” initiative beginning Monday, 12/15/2025. Interested parties may pose with the Congressional representative in holiday-themed overtly sexual poses for cash or crypto.   Marjorie Taylor Greene is expected to announce that she has always been “a goddam lib” in a bid for a Georgia senate seat.   President Trump joined several Christmas parties throughout the past week. Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt noted that the president engaged i...

  Station   Another turn bound to this domain, Trodding ever this worn terrain. Pressed to this existence we barely explain, How do we escape this contain?   Will we ride the circles of wild tides? Out beyond where the stars collide? What dream further have you supplied? We should all so limitlessly glide.   And when will you take the farther flight? Where does the adventure truly begin? Will you travel deeper than night? Your beginning doesn’t have to end.   Are we conscripted to rock and soil? Are we restricted to firmament’s toil? In all our petty arguments embroiled, We remain our strictest foil.   Can we not sail a lighter breeze? Are there not more ethereal seas? Must we endure this fleshly freeze? Do we all within us hold the keys?   And when will you take the farther flight? Where does the adventure truly begin? Will you travel deeper than night? Your beginning doesn’t have to end. ...

  President’s Piece   Waste that pleasure craft, big boy! Hit them again, Because they can’t get away. Football plastic peace prize present, Tanker grab confirms its worth. Not so noble the pursuit, Not so noble a look, Cast away that noble dream. Resolute desk warrior, Bruise a hand again! The only visible battle scar. What spurs you on these days? Is credibility such a great loss? Then take the fight home to sweet Chicago, To Portland, To the Golden State, A show of force painted in orange goo. Who can afford such peace? Who can afford anything? A commander in chief too asleep to brief, Up all night in the media trenches, Unsocial, And untruthed. Your battle is with reality: Your public takes hits in the wallet, so, You advise austerity, Claiming it is prosperity, Sabotaging your verity. When you war with the truth of everything, Of everyone, How will you find peace? How will we? Peace president, Leave us ...

  Fry   Disconnected, And gone too deep. The ideas go jumbly or Fracture like slammed Jello or Meld and mush into hot glaze. Who needs drugs when you can disintegrate so? What magnificent muddling! A discombobulate of familiar actions. Muscle memory mandate. Coerced cognition confounded. Foggy faculty fades. Clarity cancelled. Do not ask where the concepts have gone: All of them kaleidoscope immediately, Avoiding coalescence, Demanding observance, Achieving insubstance. What meddles this mentality? What careens this comprehension? Can one seize a singular notion yet? Can it be caught, Considered, Chronicled, Catalogued? Or are the myriad eddies to be? Scrambled sensibilities, Sodden smoke, Slipping scraps. Lassitude lingers, Sleep is a reprieve, Yet no release. Am I yet bound by Morpheus? Would that I were discharged from this swamp, That I may worry more clearly.   Cliff Lake 12/10/2025 Copyright...

  Attack of the Visually Operative Otolaryngologist!   The whistling, the gumming, the groaning and clicking. The sticky situation readied for unsticking.   The clumping, the dumping, inescapable lumping. The artificial respite coursing and pumping.   The trailway, the frailway, subjected to the blender, The unabashed allowance of complete surrender.   Nursing, fears disbursing, a plan proceeding as designed. Orderly ministrations, don’t see me from behind!   Pack these arms, they must not travel too far! Anesthetize me baby, eight to the bar!   O thou surgeon, thee pains me in mediation! Thy incursion drains me, to rectify deviation!   Wheeze, wheeze, wheeze! Wherefore art thou my mucosal sleaze? Is it that thou wert more condition than disease?   A practiced hand and visual transmit journey, Can someone tell me how I got back on this gurney?   Drip, drip, drip, the gravity of the crim...