Best Elysian Fields Poems
"Love Writes Its Book: Elysian Fields and the Concept of Force Majeure"
Love writes its book
opens each page
and reads it to you like your Its lover
words drip like honey over your force majeure
judge, jury and earnest revelator
Love dances barefeet in its claret poetry
and holds your bleeding heart in its Elysian hands
you’ve lost your head like The Baptist
and Love, only Love, is your first and last thought
it could be the making of the eternal you;
notes,
like bare legs freedom running
find themselves wrapped around your keys, for playing
a different way of delivering poetry -
an informal opening;
Love writes its book
a fantasy,
a ripe confectionary
Love writes its book
opens each page
and reads it to you like your Its lover
words drip like honey over your force majeure
you're a performance
of Love within
all of its shades
Candide Diderot. ‘25
"Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there."
"Elysian Fields" refers primarily to the paradise in Greek mythology where the souls of heroes and the virtuous reside after death.
“Force Majuere” is a French term for "superior force" that refers to a contractual clause excusing a party from performing its obligations due to an unforeseen, extraordinary event beyond their control, making performance impossible, illegal, or impractical. Common examples include natural disasters, pandemics, war, or government-imposed restrictions.
confectionary.
confectionery.
Dreaming of Elysian Fields
Those dreams of Elysian Fields I so miss
gentle days by the Okeanos flow
Soothing nights with you in such bliss
our souls flying with hearts in tow
Long days spent on the Fortunate Isle
walking the shady parks of Pindar fame
You dancing, dressed in golden style
loving echoes of you calling out my name
Cronus dare not take your sweet hand
for fear of my defending assault
We sing and dance with angelic band
in pleasure our true love has bought
Elysian angels dancing at your feet
the chorus of admirers a great throng
All is perfect, our lives a treat
joyous eternally in our own love song
By the Gods, your beauty breaks ground
your eyes, pools of pure liquid blue
My treasure, your pure heart I found
My blessing, a joyous living with you.
Robert J. Lindley, 02-25-2015
Noted- Edited tonight- 09-25-2015 and concluding stanza added.
Elysian Fields
09/05/2018
Shadowy images, ethereal vestiges, glimpses of souls.
Ghostly pretences, undermine my defences,
Static, stranded, silently awake, wonder alone
Soft light of candle moves carelessly in my eye,
Manifesting deleterious demons in my mind.
Am I here, corporeal, visceral, essentially whole,
Fracturing my intellect, splintering my soul,
Spectre, shadow, soulless something invades below.
Stupid, stupid me !! Why read Edgar Allan Poe.
Imagination, minds machinations, undo my sanity.
The essence of soft shadows is innocence personified,
Fantastic phantoms ferret at the edge of my sagacity,
Real or imagined the consequences are capital.
My astral entity is imperilled,
Soft shadows lay thrilled,
Stalking, waiting, blood spilled,
Return from Elysian Fields.
Will you now place your sweet hand close in mine
and we’ll walk fair Elysian fields of peace.
Together we’ll talk knowing we won’t pine
earth’s scene where constant strain has no surcease.
The flowers show a majestic array
of colors bright more so than eyes can view.
With little white bench saying we can stay
awhile before our stroll begins anew.
This music you hear comes from morning lights
that play harmonic’s great ebullient score.
Its range exceeds the diatonic heights
and we can go to place where angels soar.
Dear, place your faith in Jesus Christ this day
and see the garden made for you to stay.
("Fly Agaric", 2011, original oil)
’Tis almost the season to be jolly
Just around the corner
And before the snow falls
Before you know it
It’s time to gather the Yule logs
To help burn out the old
To bring in the new.
But what is this we see
Nestled in amongst the fallen needles
All brightly swollen, red and spotted white?
It is generous old St. Nick
In his dormant slumber
Waiting for the elves and reindeer
To wake him anew
For that one special night
When he slips the veil of consciousness
Up in smoke
Through the yurttle portal
And is everyone, everywhere.
At least everyone with the heart of Christ.
And so it goes across time and space.
Here in these immortal fields
Of grass and flowers or snow and ice
The fairies dance and children dream,
Cookies and milk
Set out in offering
For the one called fly agaric
All clothed in red and white,
A heart so pure
With New Year light.
(10/23/25)