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Christopher Steven Deeds

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Midland, TX, US

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One Final Appeal

by

Christopher Steven Deeds

I turn to you looking for security,
Not knowing if I can give it myself
But still asking it from you.
I doubt that it's fair
And I suspect that it's neither you nor me.

I do love you
And the indisputable fact remains that you love me.
So why are we faced with such confusion?

Maybe there is no confusion.
Perhaps I'm just warped,
Bent like a wreck
And bound to fuck up a good thing.
You've been nothing but considerate of me,
And I have tried
Although intuition tells me I'm miserably failing.

I want to be whole
And I want you to notice me,
To be aware of my effort and all the changes I've made.
If I could hold you in my arms every night until I died,
I'd be happy.
I'd sew my eyes shut to the world around me,
Just to know that you'd always be mine.

This body and mind are now,
More than ever before
Your temple.
Please don't topple them;
I beg you not to let me fall.
For I'm fighting through Hell to reach your Heaven,
And St. Peter's standing guard at the gates awaiting my arrival.
Do I measure up?


Dallas

by

Christopher Steven Deeds

You used to lie beside me and read Gibran.
Sweet, sweet passages,
Much like cotton candy to my ear.
I was naove then, barely eighteen years old.
Experienced but not yet played.
You were the first,
The last.
It was my birthday when first you showed up at my door,
Friends and lover inside, celebrating.
None compared to you;
You kissed me, I fell.
Forgetting my manners and the necessary good-byes,
I left with you.
Three unending and unforgettable days I spent in pleasure with you,
Then guilt sank her anchor into my heart and to home I returned.
Never before had anybody made me feel as beautiful,
And I dare to argue that it might never be so again.
For you were special,
Your key fit my heart years before I ever laid my blues into your soft brown eyes.
You brought out the best in me.
Much money could have been misused on therapy if not for your gentle touch,
Your soothing, deep voice,
And your belly.
A genuine man.
Many people misunderstand your gifts.
They say you're a heartbreaker,
A sculptor of jaded men.
I disagree.
Your love is too vast for one person to hold your heart,
It deserves the freedom to enhance others.
The joy and confidence that comes from your touch
Brightens every minute of everyday that I spend in your shadows.
Maybe you love more openly than most men allow themselves to do,
Maybe you are the master-player,
Maybe you are just as scared as all the boys' hearts you've been host to.
Whatever it might be, I felt its awe.
And I will never forget,
What it was like,
To be with you.


Returning to him...

by

Christopher Steven Deeds

I heard a friend say the other night
"The world is pregnant with the spirit."
Not just the holy spirit
But deep, dark,
Seedy spirits;
Waiting for delivery.
My heart sped with crystalline acceleration.
All these signs I've passed by many times.
What sent chills through my every pore
Was the fact that God had not spoken to me in several months.
She spoke of repentance,
And night sweats, fearful beings,
And faith.
A quality I lost in search of earthly love.
Nineteen days ago I spilled my mental anguish,
Staining the carpet,
And my clothes.
I still run into spots of loneliness
Tucked between doorjambs and baseboards.
What was I seeking?
Attention.
I can answer yes to myself,
It WAS attention.
Not the kind that I received
But that uplifting sensation you feel when Gods eyes are searing holes in your being.
The heat of love,
Heavenly love.
That's what I was missing.
And she continued to tell me more of true freedom
I felt my heart begin to open itself again.
True freedom in the father.
In faith,
In the second coming.
In the end.
Once you've made the ultimate sacrifice,
Once you've given your soul to God,
You can't easily have it back.
Remember, God knew which of us he could work through
Eons before we took our first breath.
Our maker,
The master of Heaven and Earth, Had
Has,
And always will,
Until my completion,
Have plans for me.
When I turn from Gods side a colossal darkness envelops me.
Leaving me lonely and cold.
God had my path set before me,
There's no need for detours.
Yet human nature has Herculean strength;
Yesterday I was righted again.
I am thankful for Gods watchful eye,
The guilt and loneliness he touches me with turn me his way once more.
I thank God for placing his forgiving hand on my shoulder,
For sending me misunderstood and often misinterpreted journeys to redemption.
For sending his words through a most respected confidant.
I thank you God,
And I thank you my friend.