Photo by tom pfeiffer / Alamy Stock Photo

Now, we see through a glass darkly, and the reality is stark. It’s perplexing how many insist on proclaiming: “this isn’t who we are!” The reflection is distorted, pretty gnarly in fact, you have chosen to be duped hook, line and sinker believing all of that.

Caged birds have been crowing and squawking, warning of dangers ahead, foretelling of jewelled shards lining worn paths bed. We have been here before, and our messages have been ignored. Now, rising temperatures are met with wide-eyed fear and clutched sensibilities; shock and awe are met with disbelief at the backslide’s speed and reach.

“Riddle me dis, and riddle me dat. Guess me dis riddle and perhaps not!” [i]

How can what looks like a duck, 
waddles like a duck, 
and quacks like a duck, 
be anything other than a duck? 

Out of guesses?
Do you give up?
Well, here is one way how.

Ever-present voices urging:
 “look again, look again ‘cause you ain’t seeing right, 
the duck you think you see is really a cat.” 
You laugh, and laugh, knowing the ridiculousness of the matter. 
The darn thing is a duck, and there’s no getting around that,
yet, you can’t shake the message rising from deep within an abandoned well,
so you look again, confidently declaring:
“the duck indeed looks like a cat. It is really a cat.” 

Senses dulled and intuitions distrusted, 
‘cause after all, why would anyone straight up lie at all? 
Hypnotized, all zombie like, 
you rationalize, buckle and crumble
under the face of utter nonsense.

Deny, Deny, Deny
are the putrid cries of the most virulent and lewd of them all.
Lies, Lies, Lies,
as you stare into the flaming pit warning of pending demise.
Blinded by hate and content to be fooled, better yet, play the fool, 
as if the explosive path that got us here didn’t pause and pass through them too.

Deny, Deny, Deny, 
are the pleading cries from the more ‘demure and respectful’ ones.
Excuses, Excuses, Excuses,
to let bygones be bygone, and can’t we all just get along.
All the while their deluded selves dull the painful hum,
as if the explosive path that got us here didn’t pause and pass through them too.

Deny, Deny, Deny,
are the steely cries from the rabid, idealistic types.
Theorizing/ Rationalizing, Theorizing/ Rationalizing, Theorizing/ Rationalizing, 
spitting your form of righteousness perched from upon high, blow horns on blast.
What power to wield, and patriarchal feat to decide what’s right for others everyday lives,
as if the explosive path that got us here didn’t pause and pass through them too.

Deny, Deny, Deny,
are the pretentious cries from “the we stand with you” ones.
Performing, Performing, Performing,
quoting Tubman, Mandela, King, Malcolm X, Davis, Baldwin; the list goes on and on. 
Believing this display and low hanging fruit, will grant absolution from the ugly truth,
as if the explosive path that got us here didn’t pause and pass through them too.

Deny, Deny, Deny,
are the ‘you can hear a pin drop’ cries from the quieter types.
Silence, Silence, Silence,
“this doesn’t come close to affecting me” response is their preferred style.
For the right cause, the ones that brush ever so near, their voice booms loud and clear,
as if the explosive path that got us here didn’t pause and pass through them too.

Deny, Deny, Deny,
are the pained cries from all oppressed quarters and groups.
Jockeying, Jockeying, Jockeying,
for a position as long as it’s higher than the very bottom rung, oh how you have won.
Fooled, believing prevailing rules wouldn’t touch their lives, and now they’re all confused,
as if the explosive path that got us here didn’t pause and pass through them too.

And the answer is:
We’ve been flaying around playing dangerously rigged games
masked and tap dancing around a spitting volcano’s base,
stoking flames, buying time and messing around, 
salivating bout bygone days, a time when folx knew their place, 
“but good ole days for whom”
And now, we’re all up in it and about to find out. 
And the question is:
How did we get here?

Deny, Deny, Deny,
Lies, Lies, Lies,
Excuses, Excuses, Excuses,
Theorizing/ Rationalizing, Theorizing/ Rationalizing, Theorizing/ Rationalizing, 
Performing, Performing, Performing,
Silence, Silence, Silence,
Jockeying, Jockeying, Jockeying.

That’s the oft, well-travelled path that has gotten us to where we are.

_________________________________________________________________

 [i] This is a Jamaican saying that signals that riddle is about to be shared.