Poetry

Idem, Emmanuel: Baptism as Metaphor for Suicide

Image: Pixabay modified

Baptism as Metaphor for Suicide

 

THE day my faith decides to walk on water

Is the day sharks start swimming the sea surface,

Mustard seeds flung beyond my feeble ripples

Faith or fickleness? Feet pedalled by sinking

Leanings; into the tempest!

 

SAY, I walk to the edge of the riverbed

The ocean shyly kisses the tectonic brownness, brine

Depresses this shallowness. Was planted by the

Waterside, nurtured by Psalms offshore, and now

My root cannot find its tributary to it Roots. And I don’t know

The procedure for this ritual. Flowing white robes, held

Captive, lest seismic doubts prevail. Pleadings mumbled

For new births and beginnings; hands clasped

Body aligned as to practising death. Now coldly submerged

Into the Coldness… I am a spasmic thing

Violent seizures suppressed by eager hands, the earthly

Struggling with the eternal. And there’s a double entendre for

This eerie epilepsy:

The physical, where the body persists for its poison,

 

THE spiritual, where my Legions are mutating

Adapting to this temporary affectation. But it’s

All perspectives, it’s all

Crossroads that converge at the same Calvary. So

 

PERCHANCE, my feet drag this weary body to the

Estuary of my existence, my crucible pot

The confluence of my conscience, persuades this

Moulded mischief to mutiny, and in a fit

Of apocalyptic despair glide into the

Nothingness, into that tempest!

Seeking succour in the sadness of my saviour’s sacrifice,

 

OH! Sinner where is your dignity? Where’s your

Bravado? Where’s the certainty of your convictions?

Three times submerged, in parallel cases,

The returned is a new man

——————

Poem © Emmanuel Idem

Image: Pixabay modified

About the author

Idem Emmanuel

I'm Idem, Emmanuel. I have an addictive love for poetry and cannot resist reading any poem I find. I try to use my poems to understand the intricacies of life and to search for higher love. I also enjoy playing chess in the day and taking long solitary walks in the night. I write from Calabar, Nigeria.

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