Poem // The Conversion of Christ

The Conversion of Christ is a poem that I’m particularly proud of. It got the seal of approval from my former Creative Writing tutor at Manchester Metropolitan University, Simon Armitage. He was in the running for the post of Poet Laureate last year which in the end went to my other tutor, Carol Ann Duffy. Both were equally deserving.

Given the poem’s title and imagery, you may think it relates to Christianity alone but look deeper. The Conversion of Christ is about how commercialism and materialism work together to smother and distort all spiritual beliefs to make money from them. Elements of Pagan ritual such as holly and mistletoe are just as easily appropriated as Jesus.

The racism of the supposedly pious down the ages is referenced. When writing the poem I had in mind the countless images of Christ as a white-skinned European, which he was not and could not be. Even today, for some who count themselves as godly, the truth is extremely unpalatable.

The line where the word ‘Arab’ is used has proved controversial because, of course, Jesus was a Jew. But it serves two important purposes: one, to highlight ignorance; and two, the poem is set against a backdrop of fear resulting from the events we now refer to as 9/11, with ‘Arab’ being a hot word today that, for some in the West, provokes immediate and discriminatory distrust.

Christ is a symbolic figure in the poem who, having been abused on the cross as detailed in the Bible, goes on to be further humiliated in the modern age by those who seek, with prejudice and hostility towards all faiths, to turn the most important figure in Christianity, and all other spiritual motifs as well, to the pursuit of profit and fleetingly shallow materialistic joy.

And despite the intensity of the subject matter and seemingly weighty title, The Conversion of Christ employs deceptively simple and clear language that makes for easy reading without the intellectual exclusivity that a few poets and fewer readers like, but this poet and reader does not.

The Conversion of Christ

They decked his arms 
with boughs of holly,
laughing 
as they did so.

They gathered mistletoe
nailing it to the cross above his head,
the force of their opportunistic kisses
splintering the wood.

They took a Santa beard
made from cotton wool and elastic,
tying it to his chin and smiling
because it made him look so jolly.

They rubbed crisp white snow
onto his bruised brown flesh,
remarking how it made him look
a lot paler and less like an Arab.

They painted his toenails red
with the blood flowing from his wounds
saying he could go to a fancy dress party
as Lord God Almighty if he wanted to.