CliffSongs

Loopback   Have you seen the sniping sabotage, Cryptic campaign camouflage. Petty plyings that go pale In the light of bared betrayals. Have you seen the misdirection, Self-inflicted prepared projection. Have you seen the galloping guiling Behind the superficial smiling.   Round and round, Who is it that you confound? Up and down, Isn’t the injury inbound? Pound and pound, Watch all the mistakes compound. Down and down, It’s just getting this lost… That you’ve found.   Treachery in ready residence, Capitalize on the captured confidence. Dare the duplicity dispense, Sellout is some sort of self-defense. Forked tongue duly doubletalks, Backpedal in sorry squawks. What more will you heavy hawk? Enough with the seedy schlock!   Round and round, Who is it that you confound? Up and down, Isn’t the injury inbound? Pound and pound, Watch all the mistakes compound. Down and down, It’s just getting this ...

  Player   The table was never level. Solitaire was never dealt. When the cards are shuffled, The losers ante in again.   The chips are soiled and broken, The players worse than that. The cards are marked but can’t be read, Until you already hold them.   Never asked and in the game, No seat at the table to reclaim. No winners, no hall of fame, Play or fold, it’s all the same.   Only the dealer touches the deck, Every player makes their own rules. Try to focus on the cards you have As the smoke fills the room.   Players drift in, players fall out, The drink passed around freely. You pay for the perks you never requested, The doors are locked, and how did you get in?   Never asked and in the game, No seat at the table to reclaim. No winners, no hall of fame, Play or fold, it’s all the same.   The cards are dealt in the endless night, The dealer has all the chips. You wait for the pl...

  Sorrowsong   I heard whispers on the spring breeze: A celebration beneath the trees. It was arriving as soon as soon, Under this spring’s fullest moon. The procession began late afternoon, And on the wind a nameless tune. I followed, wandered far from home, To spy this observe all alone.   And I sing my sorrowsong Beneath the smokestain moon. Of a world that may be gone, And is long past it’s noon. Still, I seek the fairy ring Once known on forest loam, And if I have to, I will sing And there will dance alone.     I trailed these animals both great and small, They gathered ‘neath trees stern and tall. Assembled in a faintly glowing ring, From the darkness I heard voices sing. Music as water cool and clean, Or visions of a world that might have been. I watched from cover lying prone, Though they were many, I was most alone.   Hear me sing my sorrowsong Beneath the smokestain moon. Of a world t...

  Erasure   Figures in the mountains where nobody lives, What guidance did these artworks once give? Blocks of stone transported miles, Arranged in purposed astronomical style. Civic projects erected by unknown race, Mammoth structures millennia in place. Their technology we cannot surmise, Ancient wonders that baffle the wise.   Lost knowledge we cannot bestow, What did they know and where did they go? So much of the past is gone – Misinterpret and move on.   Wars recorded between city states, Mythologically now we appreciate. Wonders written that are lost to time, Fables now or mere child’s rhyme. Cataclysms and horrors become fiction, Fears of what happened once are superstition. Heroes and villains known only by name, Legends only and no one to blame.   Lost knowledge we cannot bestow, What did they know and where did they go? So much of the past is gone – Misinterpret and move on.   Why is the...

  Circus and Clowns   Commander-in-Chief that can’t get it Strait, Won’t understand that they won’t take the bait. How did we ever become the lightweight? Will we or won’t we negotiate? How long will we claim we have a beatdown? How many officials’ noses are down in browntown? How long before the Navy sinks and drowns? What this circus needs is more clowns…   Rotate, misstate, spin and spin, Declare every new day another win. Bloviate, dictate, drool and grin, Let the voters take it on the chin. Rotate, misstate, spin and spin.   There are witches in Monterey they say, Another bootlick lucks into payday. Another toddler in line for war play, Completely untrained so anchors aweigh! See clown number one continue to fume. See him infect every newsroom. See the last adults save some from certain doom, See them keep the looney boy out of the room!   Conflate, frustrate, spin and spin. Make sure the donors never ta...

  A Breakdown of the Unit   The unit was broken early And sent into the world.   Twist and twist, Mangle and mash, They misshaped it in their amusement. They were horrified at the result. Realignment protocol was instituted, But the chassis had been warped, Though the veneer applied Lasted for long enough. The veneer was deemed enough.   The unit was broken early And lurched into the world.   The unit operated below spec. The unit operated outside projected expense. The unit was adept at the incomplete task. The unit was proficient at the aborted task. The unit showed promise in waste of resources. The unit was loud. The unit kept getting louder. The unit was janky.   The unit was broken early And broke much in the world.   The unit was oiled vigorously. The unit was oiled often. The unit could not get enough oil. The unit produced smoke. The unit produced waste. The unit demanded mo...

  Now Then   Now some crazy thing your attention snares, You can’t get away and it isn’t fair. Now someone else’s something electrifies the air, Now some new reality frizzes the hair.   Now is another day just full of fuzz, Hearing all about who does not and who does. Now something else is all the buzz, Now you have to care because.   Hearing the why, wherefore, and how, The noise that steady creases the brow, So much opinion through which to plow, Lost in the static of now.   The constant abrasion to the brain, The constant derision buried in false claim. The constant deflection as the treasuries drain, The constant direction to set the world to flame.   Now I keep hearing of peace through might. Now I keep hearing only the rich have rights. Now I keep hearing all the lies take flight – Now I have trouble sleeping at night.   Hearing the why, wherefore, and how, The noise that steady creases the ...

  Holistic Ballistic   The dog is on the rooftop, The barn under the owl. The band is playing shortstop, Behind a stolen towel.   Forty one and one to go, Do you display avowal? Lost and down and out you go, Can you use a stolen towel?   Round and round, See the Sound, Long before you run aground. Town to town, Fall dumbfound, In for a penny and gone outbound.   Tricky dickies slipping mickeys, The orchestrator calls a foul. Sticky quickies tricking prickies, Effected on a stolen towel.   Round and down, Outta town, Walk in sunlight all ungowned. Crooked crown, Clown and down, Miles to go and still unsound.   The dog is in the kitchen, The mouse relieves the owl. The band is playing nonstop, Do you have the towel?   Down and down, Here unfound, All of the voices are unsound. Round and round, Go to town, One bad penny and still outbound.   Round and down, O...

  Relics of the Long Sleep   Legends that arrive from somewhere deep. Stories that we somehow reap. Secrets we were never meant to keep: These are the relics of The Long Sleep.   Why do our dreams seem so aglow? What have we lost of the Long Ago? What did we spend and what do we owe? We dreamember what we used to know.   We don’t know what we don’t know, We try to learn but we’re so slow. Visions come and visions go, And leave us with what we don’t know.   What ancient memory did someone sweep? Why must we pay cost so steep? We somehow must make the faithful leap To collect our relics of the Long Sleep.   Stolen strength or merely lost? What vital knowledge have we tossed? A history now over-glossed: Mythologize a holocaust.   We don’t know what we don’t know, We try to learn but we’re so slow. Visions come and visions go, And leave us with what we don’t know.   Trials we ascend grow ...

  Control   What soft net is this? Caught in velvet and smoke, A web imperious and pervasive.   The shapely vessel, The assigned utensil, Rituals in consumption.   Such pretty trappings, Such eloquence bestowed, An industry in indulgence.   The obeisance is ancient, The design oft recorded, And men weep and women rage.   A honeyed tongue, A grape soured, Wheat, rice, and molasses turn.   The stein foams, The cork flies, The trap sprung in good company.   Let the voices ring! Let the dance commence! Tomorrow’s pains are yet ahead.   What sot lies there sprawled? Pass that one by, The snare has caught him, not you.   Indulge! Ingest! Imbibe! Two after work, and with dinner, with friends, You are in control.   What sot lies there sprawled? It is not you. Is it 5 o’clock yet?   You are in control…   Cliff Lake 4/11/2026 Copyright © Cliffo...

  Square Biz   It was just an ordinary day, When they cleared their throat to say: We have implemented a new frame: That way everything can look the same.   Don’t worry about all that creative stress, Just subtract all the uniqueness. That way you will pass every test, Once we begin deciding what is best.   Oatmeal, oatmeal, do you want a taste? What use is being unique –                                         (I am the round peg) If you don’t fit in, You are a waste. Dumbing down Is good for the mental health, Why bother to stand out?                                   ...

  Visions   It came to him from nowhere: So simple, So new, So prime for the moment. “Genius”, said some, “Madman”, said others, “Evil” said those that had not thought of it. He is gone, His idea remains.   A whisper deep, A prodding in the nerve, The errant breeze directs, Then the deed is done. Angel, muse, or messenger, In the dreams that drive us.   She hummed it over her coffee, So lilting, So hypnotic, So vital in this moment. “Powerful”, said some, “Trite”, said others, “Derivative” said those who did not write it. The singer is gone, Her song remains.   A murmur low, Melody in the muscle, Shadows breathing hints, Then the song is sung. Angel, muse, or messenger, In the dreams that drive us.   They seem to come from nowhere: So complex, So real, So filled with astonishing moment. “Prophetic”, say some, “Illusion”, say others, “Nonsense” say those that do not follow th...

  Peter and the Lessen Plan   What value the precise praise brings: You have exceeded Pete’s Principle. What heights we endure of you, We measure them in ordinance, Though the costs are borne by the recipients. How came you here? The Sycophant’s Shuffle has stood you well.   And do you find yourself In a five-sided playpen? And do you get to play with real lives? Short-dick shill, Your sandbox bleeds.   Do you nightly medicate with Johnnie and Jack? Or is it celebration? What victory can you proclaim, Other than having risen beyond your facility. Whose purse do you spend from, How will you pay the final cost? Will your foxy friends rally to bail you out?   And do you find yourself In a five-sided playpen? And do you get to play with real lives? Short-dick shill, Your sandbox bleeds.   Praising the pedophile petitioner, You propelled his pulpit proudly. How did we Nazi you coming? You came to ...

  Wing of the Eagle   Majestic flight sullied, Morning has long passed. A far-seeing eye blinded, Her young cry hungry, The nest abandoned, Her partner driven off. The winds are changing, And she responds with voice, But adjusts her glide not, She is headlong and downward, And the hard landing rushes.   Once she soared…   White-crowned without wisdom, Her wings cannot carry her burden. Weighted with gold, And barreled crude… Her talons grasp and grope – What futile hunt compels her? Once the eagle soared, Now she is bound to performative purpose, And suspect intent.   Cruel men bind her to low course, They shorten her sight. They lead her over lands far flung, To threaten, To menace, A weapon she is become, A huntress gone savage, Goaded by barbs and restraints unnatural, Though she has nestlings unattended, And wanting. Never had she such ambition and now…   Once the eagle soared… ...

  The it   How is it that it does not die? The failing apparatus, A shell of corruption – How is it that it does not die?   There it walks: A shambling thing, Spotted and bruised, Reeking and bloated, This is flesh in full rot.   A clever thing once, It makes noises from the mouth hole, Little more than obscene prattle, Croakings and chokings That excite the foolish, And the lost.   How is it that it does not die? What foul sustenance sustains it? A consumption of corruption – How is it that it does not die?   Rage has been its bread and butter, Fear slakes the thirst. Meaty hatred has fattened it, Chaos is sweet on that polluted palate, Salted liberally with greed and graft.   How is it that it does not die? It suckles the spirit, It evacuates corruption – How is it that it does not die?   Children have fed it, Innocence has gorged it, The blameless devoured, Depravity ...

  Oldan Blue   Oldan Blue was nearly seventy, And he would play guitar for you. Oldan Blue is getting up there, And music was all he ever knew.   Oldan Blue was always travellin’ round, He would sit down anywhere to play. Oldan Blue would play his blues harp, And make the dark feel like day.   And the people would gather to him, To wash away their daily plight. And the children would then dance, And forget it was night.   Now Oldan Blue will play piano, Sounding like a chuckling stream. And Oldan Blue will play his trumpet, Dissipate fear into faded dream.   And the people gather to him, And fret not the tyrant’s fight. And the children get up and dance, And forget that it is night.   Oldan Blue is a drummer, He pounds out what he cannot say. Oldan Blue makes his music To chase the people’s cares away.   Oldan Blue plays in defiance Of the rich man’s miserly bite. And the children...

  The Mad   What false fog obscures the eye? Who can breathe that dirty brown? Burning fields rain ash into the sky. Deadly raptor roars overhead, From above explosive darts fly, On orders from the insane, Who call themselves the good guy.   In someone else’s sin we’re clad, Is he thinking about Using the launchpad? And when it all goes bad, Then will we realize We are the mad.   Aren’t you glad you get to work? Count your blessings in layers of soot: Dutiful progress do not shirk. Mother Earth gives her blood to burn, Moon and stars swim above the murk. We crawl the ground and brighter shine, While we bleed ourselves with blackened dirk.   In pursuit of greedy sin we’re clad, Are we thinking about What grime we add? And when it all goes bad Will we deny that We are the mad.   Look to nature for the contrast - Are we clever enough? Leaning into mistakes of the past. We lull ourselves in b...

  Dreaming Darkness   This cannot be real, We have fallen into a dream. This is not reality, Things are not what they seem. We have drifted away from the track, This is the wrong scheme. We are treading deep water, Have we lost our paddles to the stream?   What storyline is told By the sneering mouth full of lies? Are all of these minds so closed That they cannot pierce the disguise? Are they so driven to accept The promise of an unearned prize? Do they know where we’re headed, Are they hypnotized?   When the nightmare is over, Will the sun shine a darker hue? When the dark dream is ended, Will there be a dimmer view? When the ordeal is complete, Will the wages come due? Will we rise refreshed or, Will the sun shine a darker hue?   We are plunged into this darkened realm. I tire of this unreality. Dregs are risen from the bottom, We bow not to monstrous society. A trap built of hallucination: A ...

  Scars   They call him hero, But that doesn’t heal the scars. Memory is too near, so He only tells the stars. If he can ever get clear though, He might quit the bars, Where they call him hero, But never see the scars.   Ten years and a day since he went away, Volunteered to protect his land. He had hardly got in and the fighting began, Still he was proud to make his stand. The 12 hour flight, boots a bit too tight, His training tested weapon in his hand. But the intel went bad, and they knew they were had, And surviving became the new plan.   They call him hero, But that doesn’t heal the scars. Memory is too near, so He only tells the stars. If he can ever get clear though, He might quit the bars, Where they call him hero, But never see the scars.   The rockets were bursting all around, then the wheels hit the ground The bullets were flying before he got off the plane. He watched one, then two go dow...

  The Real Fake News – Midnight Madness Malfunction   The Kash Patel Lookalike Contest set for the beginning of next month so far has three entries: a bucket of KFC left on someone’s porch for a week, a shopping bag found blowing down the street, and a wet rock with googly eyes glued on it. The only human withdrew because in his words, “Sure I look like him, but I couldn’t get the idiocy and self-absorption just right.”   During a recent interview, Donald Trump spoke with rare candidness about his health. Pointing to the back of his hand he said, “This only happened after I took over from Joe Biden.” Absently rubbing his neck he claimed,” Anyone can see I inherited a real mess.”   Kristi Noem, former DHS screwup and current Shieldmaiden of the Americas, was seen berating Corey Lewandowski in a restaurant parking lot for not growing his hair longer and learning to speak Elvish.   Pete Hegseth announced an event to be held at Madison Square Garden ...