“Everyone who loves me, --
hates me.”
This poem is
part of what is now an urban legend. The story (legend) is that it
was found on the body of a street person (male) who died from a
self-inflicted gunshot wound. He had no identification. Supposedly
buried as a "John Doe", this poem speaks the pain of many people who have
lived & died - & were never truly known by those around them for who they
really were; - Or they were discovered & then rejected. We
host it here & dedicate it to all people so badly treated... |
I
was born in a little town in the land of free & brave;
With waving flags & fireworks; where men are equal; -- they say.
Dad
wore a patch with a fireman’s hat, & mom kept house, -- cooked three;
And
life was a dream until I learned as a teen: “Everyone who loves me, --
hates me.”
The
first time I heard queer mystery “words”, was on the school
playground & bus;
Those hurling the slurs & hate with mean looks, - spoke of some old faceless
putts.
Although I admit, I did not know the meanings, or the things that those words
did imply;
All
I felt that I knew, was: “Whatever they meant, I was glad t’was another, -- not
I”!
As
time passed on, between grades, friends & home; I heard those queer words
more & more,
At
church & at camp, from strangers & Gramps: “’bominations” & strange “closet
doors”.
In
Boy Scouts they showed us a strange ‘parade tape’; - Filmed by the town’s
Brimstone preacher;
Was
a queer sight we saw; Left us all open jaw’d: - Now that tape was those “word’s”
only teacher.
I’m
not sure when, if age 12 or 13, that I began having feelings of ‘shame’;
Strange yearnings & passions - new to my mind; -- made me long for a closeness
with same.
My
mind was a mess: These feelings, those words; - So, I put on ‘the mask of
the saintly’,
I
was well disguised; but by their words I realized that … “Everyone who
loves me, -- just hates me.”
Like an albino-black-man; “Incognito” - my plan: Try to prosper in old
Forsythe County!
I’m
at the front of the bus (don’t
need Rosa Parks’ fuss); -- Oh Gawd …
just don’t let them spy me!
So,
deep in disguise, right in front of their eyes, into sports, working hard at
‘guy stuff’,
At
the head of my troop, & leading youth group: I felt safe in the phrase: ”That
guy’s tough!”
As
the calendar tree each week dropped its leaves, my teens gave way to my
twenties.
From my secret place, I NOW looked for real grace, but the “grace-store”
in church – it was empty...
Ex-this & “X”-that; & do “this” & stop “that”; Mouth these words &
tomorrow we’ll see… if you're 'free';
Yet, what was shown me by God was the scope of their fraud: They’re
liars, & fakers, for fee!
So
I left them behind – at least in my mind; my departure must have upset their
“ship”;
A
week into my job, on my office’s knob was a notice: a pink colored slip.
My
boss meekly said: “My performance was great, but this was the result of
restaffing”;
And, as he explained, I could hear from beyond: the sounds of cruel whispers &
laughing.
So,
I wrote it all down, built my case on this “town” ; – at least I could pray to
the courts…
But
my lawyers objection; – Overruled: “No protection”: - “Outlawed by God!” – Judge
retorts.
“Equal justice under the Law”, -- “A nation of Laws, - not of men”?
But
even when noone gets hurt or complains; -- they insist the "LAW’s" broken again!
So
now I’m writing this note, - not with ink, but with lead…
Making sure they’ll remember – picked a color, -- use’n red…
Look’n back in the past – how when cloaked, all did praise me,
But
the reality, the truth: “Everyone who 'loved' me, -- hated me”.
BANG!...
Analysis Key:
Below is the poem again - analyzed & explained...
-
I
was born in a little town in the land of free & brave;
-
With waving flags & fireworks; where men are equal; -- they say.
-
Dad
wore a patch with a fireman’s hat, & mom kept house, -- cooked three;
-
And
life was a dream until I learned as a teen: “Everyone who loves me, --
hates me.”
|
-
The
first time I heard queer mystery “words”, was on the school
playground & bus;
-
School is often the first time
that people here about G.L.I.B. people; -- Usually in the form of profanity as
"Fag, Dyke, Queer, Homo, Etc"
-
Those hurling the slurs & hate with mean looks, - spoke of some old faceless
putts.
-
Although I admit, I did not know the meanings, or the things that those words
did imply;
-
All
I felt that I knew, was: “Whatever they meant, I was glad t’was another, -- not
I”!
|
-
As
time passed on, between grades, friends & home; I heard those queer words
more & more,
-
At
church & at camp, from strangers & Gramps: “’bominations” & strange “closet
doors”.
-
The author identifies the
places he is hearing derogatory things about G.L.I.B people. These include
his church & summer camp, relatives, etc., & the terminology of "abominations"
(probably heard from religious circles) & about people 'living in the closet'.
-
In
Boy Scouts they showed us a strange ‘parade tape’; - Filmed by the town’s
Brimstone preacher;
-
Was
a queer sight we saw; Left us all open jaw’d: - Now that tape was those “word’s”
only teacher.
|
-
I’m
not sure when, if age 12 or 13, that I began having feelings of ‘shame’;
-
Strange yearnings & passions - new to my mind; -- made me long for a closeness
with same.
-
My
mind was a mess: These feelings, those words; - So, I put on ‘the mask of
the saintly’,
-
I
was well disguised; but by their words I realized that … “Everyone who
loves me, -- just hates me.”
-
Because he was not open with
what he felt, nobody talked about him with the same hate speech he'd been
hearing about G.L.I.B. people his entire life ... but what he realized is that
all those people who spoke that way, were really talking about him. His
conclusion was that everybody who professed that they loved him (family,
friends, etc.), actually hated him because of their words of hate
directed at a group of people to whom he actually belonged.
|
-
Like an albino-black-man; “Incognito” - my plan: Try to prosper in old
Forsythe County!
-
I’m
at the front of the bus (don’t
need Rosa Parks’ fuss); -- Oh Gawd …
just don’t let them spy me!
-
The author blends in so well
that he's able to do all of the things that "everyone else" can & doesn't need a
Rosa Parks in order to ride in the proverbial front of the bus. The point
is, that G.L.I.B. people often blend in so well that they can't be discerned by
merely looking at them outwardly (one needs to look closely at their lives -
dating, relationships, etc). The author simply hopes that nobody will
scrutinize him close enough to figure that out.
-
So,
deep in disguise, right in front of their eyes, into sports, working hard at
‘guy stuff’,
-
At
the head of my troop, & leading youth group: I felt safe in the phrase: ”That
guy’s tough!”
|
-
As
the calendar tree each week dropped its leaves, my teens gave way to my
twenties.
-
From my secret place, I NOW looked for real grace, but the “grace-store”
in church – it was empty...
-
Ex-this & “X”-that; & do “this” & stop “that”; Mouth these words &
tomorrow we’ll see… if you're 'free';
-
Yet, what was shown me by God was the scope of their fraud: They’re
liars, & fakers, for fee!
|
-
So
I left them behind – at least in my mind; my departure must have upset their
“ship”;
-
A
week into my job, on my office’s knob was a notice: a pink colored slip.
-
My
boss meekly said: “My performance was great, but this was the result of
restaffing”;
-
And, as he explained, I could hear from beyond: the sounds of cruel whispers &
laughing.
|
-
So,
I wrote it all down, built my case on this “town” ; – at least I could pray to
the courts…
-
But
my lawyers objection; – Overruled: “No protection”: - “Outlawed by God!” – Judge
retorts.
-
“Equal justice under the Law”, -- “A nation of Laws, - not of men”?
-
But
even when noone gets hurt or complains; -- they insist the "LAW’s" broken again!
|
-
So
now I’m writing this note, - not with ink, but with lead…
-
Making sure they’ll remember – picked a color, -- use’n red…
-
Look’n back in the past – how when cloaked, all did praise me,
-
But
the reality, the truth: “Everyone who 'loved' me, -- hated me”.
BANG!...
|
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