CliffSongs

  Temporal Blitz   Darkness, darkness, doom and gloom, So many mistakes to blend. Who put the riffraff in this room? What have you left to lend?   What is the meaning of the meaning? When did it begin to trend? Is there actuality in seeming? What is this nowhere that you’ve been?   And you step through the doorway, That you may change your mind. And maybe you leave and/or stay, And all else is left behind.   So you steal the clock from the near wall: No more messages to send. Another means to appeal the clear fall: Another where to attend.   Can you step beyond the fire? Are their dealings yet to mend? Are you still within the dire? Are there fissures yet to defend?   So, you step through the doorway, There you may change your mind. And maybe you leave and/or stay, And all else is left behind.   Run the game, that is the way, It’s only reality that bends. Hail Mary play after the ...

  The Carrot Of It All   O, the anticipation! The thing wanted and withheld! The promise just ahead, Clearly available, Just beyond the grasp! O, the anticipation!   See the finaglers, The arrangers, The slippery sinister! They parade justice as a newfound banner, They vaunt piety even as their sin is sung out. See their finger point away, Always away.   O, the anticipation! The engine guns forward, The load still undelivered, The car is empty, The hunger remains. O, the anticipation!   They have consulted each the other, The unspoken remains guarded yet! Not all bulwarks are breached, The keep remains. A feigned retreat, A sleight of hand, A seeming compromise. Give the rabble what they want, In word, not deed. The show must go on.   O, the anticipation! See the curtain rise! See the curtain behind the curtain! Does it yet conceal? Is there naught but brick beyond? O, the antic...

  Somnolence   Here I imagine away the day, Less partaking than watching the fray. Head in the clouds, on the ground my feet stay, Have I really fled so far astray?   Waking hour influenced by moon’s gleam, Dare I trust in this consciousness stream? Or do I believe all is as it seems? Lost in the dark of a dream.   And who can say What it all really means? Is it all merely chance, Is it preconceived scenes? Scrambling through life From extreme to extreme, Can we get it right In the dark of the dream?   I wander past the unseeing eyes, My real self is my disguise. What happens when the circuits fry? An avatar can never cry.   Where will they find their self-esteem? Milk the motherboard for its cream. You will not hear the diodes scream, Tumble into the dark of the dream.   And who can say What it all really means? Is it all merely chance, Is it preconceived scenes? Scrambling through ...

  Over and Over   The backroom is empty, Cigars all smoked. They slipped past supposed sentry, This is the tail end of the joke.   Just a little behind and Casey’s at bat, Who is going to even the score? Promises from an empty hat, The manager has closed the store.   And did you think you would get some aid? Maybe it was just for fun. Where were you when the deal was made? They lie in the sun. There they lie and give you some shade, Over before it begun.   It isn’t over until they say it’s over, But it’s over now. And still, they bask in the clover, And you’re behind the plow.   There you sit on the sidelines, Wondering when you’ve won. But you’ve been sold down the pipeline, Over before it begun.   And did you think you would get paid? Maybe it was just for fun. Where were you when the deal was made? They lie in the sun. There they lie and give you some shade, Over before it begun. ...

  Hand Full of Jokers   Runaway coach and unbridled driver, Rattling apart the each. The horses in their traces scream frenzied, Pleasure rides forced into servitude. Whip hand working overtime, The driver lurches off the track.   Passengers tightly crammed and unfed, They grouse their discomfort. Most realize they have been taken for a ride, Yet the reins remain in the hands of the madman.   The cliff’s edge looms beside, Beckoning the blinded with false solidity, Turn further right and… Or is it the lightless tunnel that calls, No end in sight, And a mountain of weight threatening.   The calvary rides in blue, Chasing rogues. Bullies and bandits in the hire of the coach company, Or loyal to robber barons and corrupt lawmen, Impediments to farmer and rancher alike, Looking no farther than the range of their weapons.   The carriage crashes on, Axles strained and threatening shear, Wheels splinterin...

  Lights, Camera, Inaction   TV doctor flapping gums at the podium, All present disregarding the odium. Camelot cruiser looking on from the side, Bolstering pharma cooks he also derides.   Big office medical disruption, Another sleepy time interruption. Whale head witchdoctor flees the scene, Tune out the drama like it’s never been.   Face the camera, Close the eyes. Nothing is happening, Deny and deny. Face the camera, Turn out the lights. Drift away In your forever twilight.   Irony in the Office Oval, Pay to play and be sure to grovel. Feed the rich and cook the poor, Get your picture taken with the cosplay Fuhrer.   Medical aid, but it’s all pretense, Tone-deaf admin on defense. Purchased devotion put on display, Commotion happens and just look away.   Face the camera, Close the eyes. Nothing is happening, Deny and deny. Face the camera, Turn out the lights. Drift away In y...

Testimonial   The tension, Ratchet up the tension. How else will you justify the thugs? The training, Don’t bother with much training. How else will they remain the thugs? What brutish tactics! What short sight…   Starvation, Inflation, Frustration, Predation. The tools of the tyrant, The clumsy hands that wield.   Constraint, Restraint, Complaint, Repaint. The pettiness of the bullying, The insubstantial yield.   Suppression, Oppression, Recession, Depression. The duress forced by insecurity, The results in the ledger concealed.   What use is history To those that refuse to read? Pressures applied Always require Eventual release. The fires you start today, Set the boil of tomorrow, That you think you can contain. This is a pot Larger than your ego.   You begin to burn your own, Thinking your lies Will outweigh their empty wallets, That your words Are more substant...

  Red Horizon   Red horizon, Sounding drum. Fires lit, Night has come.   Greed of tyrant, Arms prepare. Take up your shield, Oaths to swear.   The marching horde, It won’t relent. The bell is rung, A message sent.   Sound alarm, The rider found. Time has flown, Comes the hellhound.   What treasure does the enemy yearn? Nothing is left when all has burned.   The worm within, Treason crawls. Secret session, Reason falls.   Counsels heard, Found forthright. Provision stocked, Desperate flight.   What treasure does the enemy yearn? Nothing is left when all has burned. The night is long, and we mourn the sun, Here we stand and we will not run.   Rusted armor, Faithful sword. Defenders poised, Sing battle chord.   Farm and dell, Shield and lance. Guard it well, Dark advance.   The night is long, and we mourn the sun, Here we stand an...

  The Wreck of the Old 47   The morning meeting convenes, The accolades are sung. Just another day Behind the wrecking ball. He’s being lied to, And accepts anyway. He looks run down, So he takes all the money, To convince himself he’s not drowning. He gazes at his good time buddies, As they look at what he’s done. Nothing seems to change, While the house stays shut down, And none of them will tell him, That he’s been such a fool. “SNAP!”, he cackles, “Let them eat crypto!”, he says, Guarding his own pile manically. “Let them eat ICE tear gas!” He gazes around the room, Waiting on the expected harumphs. “Harumph!”, they bark, “Harumph!” The assistant vampire steps forward, “The cozening will continue!”, it declares, Convincing no one further. They know what’s at stake, And none wish to be tied to the whipping post, Nor chained and bound. Yeah, Sometimes they feel like… It’s dying, The support they had feels like...

  Goin' Fission   The chest is sorely bruised: A constant, If erratic thumping, Renders soft flesh tenderized, While the stone beneath feels nothing, But the fear of consequence.   The mouth is open, The mouth is always open. It is the loudest in the room. It is always the loudest in the room. Hear it praise itself! Someone has to…   The hands are mismatched: One is blotchy purple, And when it isn’t, It is Covergirl pink. Both reach for the money, All the money.   The eyes are blinded by gaudy paint, They fail to see the damage it wreaks. They do not read figures they do not like. They see enemies in every corner. They do not see ramifications. They only see dollar signs.   The ears do not register. They hear no entreaties, They heed no advice. They are full of what the mouth has said, They listen that only, And are deaf to anyone without deep pockets.   The brain is sodden. It...

            October 26 Lantern Jack Cuts a Rug   Lantern Jack was frowning his pumpkin mug, He felt all year he was much too snug. Lantern Jack needed some way to unplug: He and Hellcat at the Mash would cut a rug.   It was the Mash, it was the Monster Mash, Old Jacko planned to make a splash. But to the tailor they had to dash: After all year they looked like trash.   The tailor’s shop was on Dreary Lane, You can only reach it by Blaine the Train. The truth is Blaine is a pain. Going by Blaine may be insane.   Jackie and Hellcat climbed aboard, Dreary Lane Blaine headed toward. On the way Blaine got bored, Pedal to the metal, Blaine was floored.   Blaine had a need: a need for speed. Blaine had another need: A once and final deed. Neither Jack nor Hellcat had agreed.   Lantern Jack thought the speed a strain, Hellcat looked on with disdain. Soon they would p...

  October 25      Shadow   Lightning-struck, It yet lives, Once vibrant, Green and giving, Now shattered, Twisted, broken, Harmed. A misshapen remnant, Clinging to a life near end, Still sustained, Bolstered and buoyed by Something…   October arrives. The season marks changes: Thinning airs, Longer echoes, Lengthened shadows. One falls starkly black: A grasping image perhaps, Spindly and somehow substantive, A screaming imprint without sound, A sooted portraiture of agonized form, An effigy not quite lifeless, A likeness of pained being.   Hurrying passersby do not cross this mar, Unthinking, they step around, Taking to gutter or grass, Uneasy avoidance. Nor do they heed its appearance, To look is to fall, A known accounted in primal instinct, The mind will not acknowledge: Such aberrations lead only to reason unhinged, Then lost. Still, For some, There is a dim call...

The Future of the Past   Gold glaring vulgar, Petty opulence to surround. No show of strength this, Merely garish self-congratulation, Just a harking back to a bitter history, Long lost to infamy. Ah, what one wishes! What dreams fondled! Think you to recreate a past You were no part of? It has already been, It is dimly remembered. It was discarded as unwieldy, Unworthy, Unwanted… So have you become. You tie yourself to visons dispensed with, Dreams of glory tasted by the few. And what of that? You see yourself of their number, Land snatchers and self-titular that they were. They too saw themselves superior, They too thought themselves beyond reproof. What matters that you run roughshod? All have been beneath you, So you are informed By the lackeys you have bought. Those trampled underfoot have long paved your way. You look to your apologists, Craven and grasping at your leavings, How much longer Can they explain away ...

    A Broken House   A broken house Shows what rots inside.   Because he loves the hate.   Because they love to hate.   Because of their love of hate.   What wreckage are we to endure? More walls have come down, More destruction in this land. And too near – An empty House, Closed for disrepair. One wonders at the timing…   What wreckage we are to endure! Metaphor springs to life, Trades the red hat for the hard hat, Keeps the hard heart. Make complaint to your local congressman, He needs something to do. And what of the broken thing behind the rubble? He revels in the complaint! Why? Because he loves the hate.   What wreckage are we to endure? Institutions torn asunder, Or starved of their resources. Their needy have no recourse But to clamor outside closed door. Too late – The delegates are sent home, And no one gets anything. But at least they are satisfied in knowi...

October 17         Mist   Wavering twilight indistinct, Animate hazes closely linked. Rising fog as thick as ink, Carry you to folly’s brink.   Shunted to unwanted tryst, Too bewildered to resist. Coherence here has been dismissed, Lost now in October mist.   Not here is found confusion’s cure, In the mist unreasons lure. October mists so demure, October mists obscure.   What is seen is not seen, What is heard that has not been? What in autumn mists may teem? What may slip through swaying seam?   Insubstantial wavered twilight, Welcome to uncertain sight. Here unreason to take over, Lost in the mists of October.   Not here is found delusion’s cure, In the mist unreason’s spoor. October mists so demure, October mists obscure.   Is that the haze so softly calling? Into the maze you softly falling. Something in your senses shifts, A succumbing to the drift. ...

         October 14 Here There Be Monsters         (Only Cowards)   Hulking louts breeding unrest, Sowing chaos at overlord’s behest. Armored, armed rabid beasts, Upon the populace unleashed.   Marching mindless manic brain cases. Combat booted zombie disgraces. They make our streets unsafe places, These monsters have no faces.   They havoc with covered faces, Of themselves they wish no traces. Making our streets unsafe places: Only cowards won’t show their faces.   Bred to protect over-rich ghouls, Violent cosplay makes racists drool. Copycatting Adolph’s worst art, Frankensteined together from rotten parts.   Marching mindless manic brain cases. Combat booted zombie disgraces. They make our streets unsafe places, These monsters won’t show their faces.   They havoc with covered faces, Of themselves they wish no traces. Making our s...

  October 13       Twilight   What can be said of October twilight, Its thinning air, Its moon rising bolder? What can be said of the sounds That carry there, Of a song sung far older?   What has been said of the evening mists, Curling so soft Tendrils that almost catch? What has been said of the farther door, To this plane to waft, Who is lifting the latch?   In twilight we fly, In twilight we sigh, This is the no time, Reason defies. In twilight we try, In twilight we fly, This is the flow time, Kiss reason goodbye.   What can be told of drying leaves whisper, Language they speak, You once knew long ago? Who would dare mention the spine’s tingle-shiver, Forgotten warning, Of the things you don’t know?   What has been whispered of fey sound Come too sharp now, No clear sources to avow? What has been written of footfall behind you, A stranger, some danger, T...

October 12       Air   Daybreak dawns bedewed: Mists rise and curl, Briefly though, Then, Sink slowly into lawns gone brittle, Or settle on overnight laces spun, Twinkling gems that fade with the rising sun. The far cry of the passing trains linger longer, Forlorn cries distant, Heralds of harvest, Grain and coal, And lumber and travelers destined elsewhere. Morning’s dins play more insistent, Preparing for the long rest ahead.   Summer’s hazes have given way to crisp cerulean, Such clarity is required by the fleeing geese. Traffic hums louder, Rather, More distinct, Clanks and clatter separate, Rendered each to their own space. So too are children’s calls more lucid, The dogs bark more sharp, The wailing sirens more pierced to the ear.   In the night, The stars shimmer clearer, More rough-edged as newly plucked jewels. The bat calls come sharper, Fare farther, Unimpeded by sluggi...

  Rations   Steps to ease the existence:     (in no particular order)   You may steal when prices are high. You may denigrate all that you don’t understand. You may cheat if you can’t win. You may deny knowledge you did not already have. You may lie if that’s easier. You may avoid responsibility that causes you discomfort. You may violence when:     you think they think they’re better than you,     you had a bad day,     you have a better deity,     they’re in the way,     they won’t do the,     they won’t give you the,     they don’t listen,     they’re stupid,     the lies aren’t working,     they aren’t your tribe,     reasons. You may idolize whatever is mildly popular right now. You may extramarital if you are really in love this time. You may ego when everyone else is a loser. You may sloth if som...

  Fail Slow   Indulged. Coddled and caressed, All accepted, All demanded, All unearned. The tale of your sins Trails behind, A shadow, Grown larger than you. All devious, All denied, All deserved. What record reveals? Placate the masses with distortions and still, Fail slow.   Fail slow, How low will you go? This is the row You chose to hoe. We drink our health, As you reap what you sow, And stand and watch, As you fail slow.   Pieces fall, The puzzles firms, Define the edges first. Murky picture, Shows abandoned promises, Marks broken enterprise, Lensed often, Still imprecise, The tale woven dark, Without regret, Whispered of in gutters, And in greasy privacy, Must not be told open, But walls have ears, And you fail slow.   Fail slow, How low will you go? This is the row You chose to hoe. We drink our health, As you reap what you sow, And stand and watch, As you fa...

  Sorry Christian   O sorry Christian, Worshipping your church, Abandoning Jesus, How far you stray.   Sorry Christian, How you love to hate, Preaching against those you know not, Their customs strange. Their clothing may fit different, Their food be peculiar, Their tongues may be a difficult hear. Do they seem garish? Do you find them unwanted? Sorry, Christian, Your brother may not always look like you.   You sorry Christian, What makes your cathedrals so great? They stand higher than your works. Your prayers speak louder than your deeds, Your purses impede your morals. You walk with Mammon, And he with you. You value value, How can you thread the needle’s eye? Sorry, Christian, Poor treasure you have stored.   Lo, sorry Christian, Will you follow Peter then, Blade too ready to hand? Would you send the unbeliever Christward early? How you celebrate blood! How fierce in your belief! But t...

  October 1 The Woods   There are old places. Older than what surrounds them, yes. Feral and willful places, Untamed and untouched, One does not attempt these woods under this moon. One does not tempt these woods under this moon. Here the veils are thinnest, Here the crossings are not so difficult. The entry opens rarely, Seasonally, And ever back through eons. An entry that opens now… It has come through.   It bides its time, For the season returns once more. A slow hunter, A creature of consummate patience, Inexorable. And for some, Inevitable. One does not tempt these woods. Not under this moon.   This is a mire. This is a maze. This is a mistake. There is a collector here. A gatherer, An unrelenting connoisseur. It can wait, It has cycled many times, And more times before that. It can wait.   Many traps it baits, It has learned much in its wheel, It has forgotten not a trifle. ...

  Loony Time   Crises pulled daily, Manufactured by the wily, Extracted and presented As if from the forever pocket Of the animated hare, Leaving us to ask: “What’s up, Don?” We see the signs: It’s rabid season.   Yearning to be the rootinest-tootinest, He comes off a bit too daffy, And in desperation declares: “This means war.” Still, dark secrets loom, And when asked where they are found We’re told, “They went that-a-way.” Watch him dip, dive, and dodge. It’s duck season.   Pontificate, obfuscate, complicate. Explanations reach their acme, Blowing up when handled, Requiring more answer than: “That’s all, folks!” Still, they rush headlong, Towards the tunnel, They painted themselves. Can’t they read the signs? It’s rabid season.   And it’s despicable.   Cliff Lake 9/28/2025 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2025

  In Those Days   In those days, Days of gloom, Nights of horror, Fear walked recognizable: Visages unmistakable, Forms familiar, Tongues too often heard. In those days, Heroes rose, Monsters fed, Until battle was long waged, Until foes were beaten, Buried, And tales were passed Down through ages, Until they were passed no longer, Made forgot by design.   In those days Creatures were fashioned, Informed of secret art, Given living sigil, And taught patience. For Man is ever eager, Rushing forth with each new skill, Heedless and too often unrepentant, Marking not his failures, And enamored of his own cleverness. Then will the beasts awaken, Then will they adopt the form of Man, And pass among him, And speak sly flattery, And make false voice, And false light, And falsify knowledge, They would lead Man back into woe, That these beasts may feed unabated.   In those days, Prophecy was made,...