Elias Foukis

Rookie (20.08.1969 / Ioannina, Epirus, GREECE)

Voyage Of Jesus Christ - Poem by Elias Foukis

Of all the dreams on the background of which
calamity and fatalism have reigned
I still am unable to forget that one
with which I began my Tour of the World
at the geographical point where Love was born
and broke off at the point
where humans came to hate one another.

In a completely natural way
I began to hunt down Hate
but after a while this comfort turned into confusion
since I had just read
the Dialectic of Moses
and I had to appease my own spectres
regarding the anxiety which had then gripped Moses
as to the essence of History
which if you judge by the winds
as they caress the windows of Jerusalem
doesn't seem to be tragic at all.

But it seems to me that Moses
as the wind scattered his thoughts through the Desert
may have acted in haste.

The windows of Jerusalem
have looked out on Idols alone.

Those which did not pose any threat to the City
but just as they were not dangerous
they were also uncorrectable
and thus could disturb the conscience of Citizens
regarding the morals of Heroes
which on the heels of the enslavement of human souls
began to spread the cloud of doubt
so in the end not one person was liberated.

And so great was the misunderstanding
of this People that it nearly became a bosom friend of God
until the autumnal nakedness of Mt. Sinai
was decked out in the crusade of this entire People
which went to be punished converting into dust
the Happiness which Fate had ordained for it.

All the wilderness left behind was enough
to confirm what had once
been but a spectre...

As soon as it was delivered from the intoxication
of the divine temperament
the visionaries of the Dialectic
which was baptized by the hot Wind and the Soul
saw that Heaven was nowhere to be found.

Around them could be seen only milling Humans...
not to say Rome...
cold logic.

But that was enough for us to pull away
from you and Earth.
In another world by now
I had absolutely no chance of determining
whether Jerusalem had moved to Hell or
to Paradise
just as Jerusalem had no way of knowing
that with Hate stretching before me
my eye would be drawn to Heaven
just as my body to Earth
and would continue to be beset by visions
to bring before the empty eyes of this World
the unfortunate past of White Idealism.

That is why hope is not to be found
as everything has become terribly blurred
and I'm afraid the most dreadful thing of all will soon rule.
Holy Scripture has begun to stagger about the Earth
refusing to stride in step with the worldly walk
going back to the time the Steps of this World
first became imperial
and night was getting ready to fall on that World
so that all of these games of absolutely no seriousness
all of these doubts and conjectures
would be arranged like Black Legends
on the banks of the Jordan river.

Thus the following day
only one thing would come true
from the Dream I saw.

Its flow cannot be contained
in mere undulation without mysteries
signs and shadows of the life beyond.

And that has dispassionate aims...specific...
so the only thing that can be faced in this World
will be the Punished People
which as I meant to tell you above
will pervade History
having before it the Desert
there in its eternal place
seeking explanations for the return of Idealism
from the Jordan river...
and if I'm not mistaken
not even that one has the right to return
quite the same as all other beings
who do not belong to any God.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 11, 2012

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