Elysian Fields Poems | Examples

My Father's Field and Stream

I woke up this morning from a dream. 
On the coffee table, I saw a magazine - 
my father's Field and Stream,

and I remembered how he wanted to take me to a place
he went with his own father
in an earlier time and space, 

to nature's rugged, wild Elysian fields,
where boys and men could bond,
like a page and knight with sword and shield.

So, he took me to the mountains, beautiful and free,
and I wanted to go there with him,
but my imprisoned eyes couldn't see.

My father's field and stream, you see, 
was not a place, but a state of mind, 
and I could not go there by decree.

I was not the kind of boy or man
my dad wanted me to be.  
He didn't know what was obvious to me.

Between my mom, my brothers and I,
the verdict was decided, 
"Entirely unfit", they would all decry.    

I was unworthy, and I was weak,
I wasn't one of the Hardy boys,
and felt much more like a freak.

I wish that I could have joined you, Dad, 
in those fields and streams,
to share together the experience you had, 

and I am ready to join you in nature's high, 
but it's too late for us.
You're in the Field and Streams of the sky.

My World At Times

my world at times
a maze of iron and stone
corridors where escape
is the longing within
your hand lights upon me
butterflies yield becoming doves
i no longer wish to surrender
emboldened by the amaranth you are
i am not alone
i am loved
i am cherished
in my life, you are the pillar
Samson could never move
you are that bird Emily spoke of
in the worst tempest, there is hope
as Neil said, you are too good to be true
but you are
walk with me on paths back
holding your healing hand
your voice a well of wholeness
the voyage from hell within
to the Elysian fields of heavens
life with you
such is my greatest blessing
the amaranth you are

   Oregon   7/23

Laughing Angels

You can hear the echo of their laughter ringing through the halls of bliss 
voices rippled soft as feathers, swiveling down on earth like this!    
Airborne landings, joyful tickles, oh how innocent they are   
in the cradle of God's Kingdom, always landing like a star. 
Feel the rush of wind on your heart without rescind ,  
as they flutter here and there doing as they please.  
They are often slow to anger, jovial and complete, 
and if you ever are in danger they can take a giant leap.  
Sometimes, a wayward feather drops by unexpected time   
perhaps it is your Angel saying, " its your time to shine !"
Sometimes, you can hear them giggle from Elysian fields of blue  
where there are no storms or downpours, only heroes of the sun.  
Sometimes, you can see their antics if your eyes are rinsed and pure, 
you can be their brave crusader using laughter as the cure. 
Voices rippled soft as feathers swiveling down on earth like this,  
sometimes softer than a feather, arriving like a kiss.

The Abyss

THE ABYSS

The abyss...evokes and fuels Hades enthusiasm,
a deep or seemingly bottomless chasm.
A slope leads down into the dark abyss,
and their delinquent prayers rendered amiss.
It's not just a wide or profound difference 
between people; a gulf or a huge fence,
the abyss between these two nations;
Earth & Hell are never saintly expeditions.

The Abyss...
The popular home of a great but fallen Legion.
The music of wailing echoes from this region,
the regions of hell conceived the bottomless pit.
There, damnation has taken a lifetime seat.

But we will rave in the defeat of darkness,
Infernal abysses do not frighten us, 
nor the blazes of thunder & fiery flames.

Who will miss their reservations;
in The Elysian Fields, the final resting place,
a home of heroic souls and the virtuous,
a land of perfect happiness at Earth's end, 
on the banks of the Oceanus, there we're forever blessed. 

But the abyss...
Sinking sin stinkers simmeringly sink into hell,
faces fried-up & fearfully frozen they fell,
as Lucifer summons them deep into the abyss,
denying them, forever, the joy of heaven's bliss.


Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright ©? April 2023.

Journey

"Death is like an inevitable leap into the unknown. But we are sure to land in a state eternal either to be blessed or cursed" By poet

With the suddenness of a locomotive
that has come to an abrupt halt,
he fell motionless and in a coffin lay.

 like –

all mystery sealed in a jar.
all agony compressed,
in a tremulous whimper.
all charms shut in an amulet.

amid,

the scent of burning incense,
frozen silence,
heaving hearts
and
silent prayers.

the chariot wheeled him along
in his last journey
through the mazy paths,
stretching, stretching endless
to a world,
beyond all galaxies.
to the Elysian Fields-
to a time, immeasurable
to abiding infinity,
to inconceivable eternity!!

March. 7. 2023
Re entered for Brian's Contest

~ Placed First~

Writing Challenge ‘J’ Words Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Constance La France

After the Storm

After The Storm

Night falls harshly and the door sharply slams
on all happiness and each hopeful thought
Left with insincere smiles and a million scams
A blunt, cruel harshness is now my lot

At dawn I awake as angry gusts surge
They lurch into gales, harsh storms hades sent
Bronze, yellow, and crimson leaves soar and merge
Soaring, swirling down to rain-pelted cement

Afternoon enters cloudless, balmy and bright
Soft breezes fleet by in wafts gentle and warm
Now rising, now falling, and buoyant and light
In Elysian Fields I settle after the storm

The tumult of anguish and bitter despair
break away and drift off this glorious night
There’s a feel of pending joy in the air
as the door flings open and lets in the light

Quatrains
Written 8/22/22

The Gates Below

Unto Acheron, great river of woe,
  the buried to the entrance gate are led,
in the underworld to Charon below
  to ferry across the souls of the dead.
Upon your lips, your eyes, a coin receive,
  a fare lest you be trapped between two worlds -
allowed to enter but never to leave
  where the waters of oblivion purls.
Where Furies dwell and Hellhounds guards the gate
  and souls are judged in Hades’s deathless reign -
to wander the Styx and Lethe in wait
  till rulers of gods and men part us twain.
The Pit of Tartarus where the soul yields
or sweet blissful isles of Elysian Fields.


              Written: May 2012

Longingly Hankering

yearning 
              of ritual
      lethargic 
      in thunderstorm

      through 
     huge chasm 
   of window&
   watching 
   sky 
darkened &
drizzle 
dropping &
  gust 
howling 
 non-stop

yet stipulating
 coldness 
  within
  intimacy&
      a glimpse 
charming 
 longing 
for flowers 
blooming 
   rooting in 
    womb

 relishing 
drafting
  sun and moon

      elysian fields 
     of yesteryear
   & blue oceans
 crave 
scooting
 & 
alleging  
   obsession
    musings
    notification
  compelling

1St place contest winner

Written: August 1st, 2022

A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand

NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE   using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.

Running, Running

Running, running, as fast as I can
I couldn't catch you, you slipped right though my hands.
Like how an hourglass fails to stop the sand from falling,
I couldn't stop you from leaving in the end.

Sand trickles by through permeable shields
Not being able to stop our time from running out.
Falling far from what felt like Elysian Fields,
Making me realize that perhaps all sweet fruit that this Earth can yield,
Are nothing but honey laced with hemlock to be poured through the ear.

I'm still running, running, as fast as I can.
Towards what now? I'm not sure I understand.
Just one foot and then the next.
Whispers of warning does Orpheus howl in my ear,
"Don't look back, for there is nothing left for you here,
Just keep moving, and the pain will be easier to bear."
Starting to plead with myself not to turn around like he couldn't stand,
Learn from his mistake and resist the temptation when I can.

Requiem At the River

I stand in the swamp by the riverbank 
clutching a coin I have stolen
as my heart still beats within my breast
It is only my spirit 
that has slipped away
to await the ferryman of Acheron
Charon who
skillfully pilots his skiff
from there to where it flows 
into Styx

He arrives and I pay the price
He places the coin in his pocket
and grabs hold of the pole
pushing away from the shore
as I lay indolent with lament
in the bottom of the boat
the icy chill of the water 
seeping through the wood 
Shivering I stare at the stars
silently weeping
remembering the many wishes
I made on them that went unrealized
unheard
for the Gods must have 
found me unworthy

Cerberus will step aside to admit me
heads snarling
as the snakes on his back writhe
Hades will welcome me
Or he may hand me over 
to be judged by Aeacus
and plunged into the pit of Tartarus 
for my many sins
to be tortured for eternity
starved and beaten
my liver eaten by birds

May he have mercy on me
this sorrowful lost soul
for all I ever wanted
was to dance
carefree and content
to the music of miracles
in the golden flower filled
Elysian Fields forever
with you

A Wolf In Haiku Clothing

I listen to the sighing
of the wind, as I sit
in the cool shade 
of a sprawling carob tree,
wondering if Basho,
in heavenly abode, 
next to Elysian Fields,
is mumbling agitatedly
under his breath – possibly
grimaces, wrings his hands
as he flips the pages of
vain anthologies where
writers sell their wares…
Stuck in comfort zone
deprived of achievement, 
wary of new horizons, 
surprise ends and twists…
they cling to restrictions
and Mother Nature’s skirt. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Pareidolia Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
	
© 24th August 2020

Styx

Styx
by Michael R. Burch
 
Black waters, deep and dark and still: 
all men have passed this way, or will.

NOTE: According to ancient Greek mythology, the Styx was the River of Death. The dead would pay Charon, the ferryman of Hades, a fare to carry them across the Styx to their eternal destination. (Hades was not "hell" as it was improperly translated in the King James Bible. Hades had heavenly regions, such as the Elysian Fields and the Blessed Isles.) The fee was normally an obolus or danake. The Greeks would place the coins in the mouths of the dead, but over time the custom would become placing coins, usually pennies, on the eyes of the dead.

Uncircumnavigated

"Uncircumnavigated"



Just Around the Corner ...



How did you write 
your way 
into my story?

A Wolf 
and
a Fox

Blitzkrieg. 
The rompers 
romp in…

This is unprecedented, unwanted,
Silence is Golden
I walk to the beach 
and back breathless 

cool
you;
me,

debating always debating
internal
within

the uncircumnavigated tracks,
feral white rabbit
marks his mark 

Clocks His time
in
Time

the city skyline,
recalcitrant, shading, delicious 
Light in Dark Night 

winks back
ridiculously knowing
winks back

How did you write 
your way 
into my story?

When I had already written
keys and locks into
the Chinese Puzzle Box 

locked
locked
locked

and then,
unheralded 
inconsequential

YOU
bourgeois
gauche calculating intellect 

breeze in…

Hornet bites
honey bee 
Gold
 
dribbling 

(LadyLabyrinth/ 2019)





"When" / Elysian Fields

Stillness

...the birds having nothing on you   

each tasty morsel drips   
deflowering of night
and day 
where sun has chose to stay
  
close
your lips to mine   
piercing the aire
beheld in Pierian time
  
kindled and caressed in kiss   
late night hours waved  
as arousals arrive
and reside
  
touches pulsed by rhyme
symphonically conduced 
more than mere interludes   
that never conclude  

stillness our tune   
ignition the flame
  
morning whispers   
silent into eyes of Jade
hesitating, she breathes once more
meandering Elysian fields of gold

When Does Chloris Arrive

When does Chloris Arrive
The marigolds were a twitter
The tea roses were entranced
The faerie princess doing cartwheels
The lambs ears were brushing sweetly against each other
The brownies rapidly helping the ladybugs get onto their mushrooms

Chloris was to arrive in the afternoon 
The sun was ready, waving hello.
The garden radishes were inspiring their carrot friends to grow
Everyone was in a tither, a dithering tizzy.
Yard had not been this excited since the dandelions popped up

The first day of Spring
The Goddess was coming!
There was exuberant joy, as the grasses
and gardens and flowers began their happiness dance.
She has not been seen in Elysian Fields for a whole year!

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