Tags
acrostic sestina, Elaine Stirling, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, homage, Latin American writers, magical realism, medieval fixed verse, poetry
Let us speak of love
Openly in the streets where myth
Vanquishes hard truth, and stories course
Eternally like tendrils of a vine.
I’ll learn again to disregard no dream
Naturally, to avoid reality’s cold hosts.
The gossips crow today of hosts—
How faithful, how devout to godly love,
Excepting fellow man; but in your dream
They flourish, flawed, woven through the myth
In which the hummingbird protects the vine.
Macondo breathes, and soldiers know, of course,
Enemies in politics and sex direct the course
Of every man, while fever born of tropics hosts
Fierce calumnies that twist what is divine.
Ghosts, they coincide us, fleshed by love
And fecund women who secrete pure myth
Between their limbs to fuel the shaman’s dream.
Oh, I’ve no quarrel with the torpid dream;
Grist shines in every form, each course
And rivulet propels Creation’s myth.
But let us tolerate no disappointed hosts
Riven by the tales they tell of wearied love.
Instead, let’s propogate a strong new vine!
Ecstatic, we are labourers of fruit and vine
Laid back in hammocks where the dream
Gathers sinew from the sins of love
And funerals like weddings run their course,
Respiring through the sleepy childhood hosts
Colombia revived in you. This myth
Is universal, plumb. Adopted myth
And native-born, we all grow from the vine
Mysterious and drop our seed where hosts
Act fast to stimulate the better-tasting dream,
Remembering that preference guides our course
Quite ably when we speak perforce of love.
Upending myth, you show me where the dream
Excises from the vine, fermenting new realities whose course,
Zero tolerant of rudeness, hosts exuberant varieties of love.
~~~
An acrostic sestina contains a hidden vertical message, which I’ve made easier to read by capitalizing the first letter of every line. Readers and adorers of Gabriel Garcia Marquez (1927-2014) will understand the wordplay.
© Elaine Stirling, 2014
Oceantics 
Breathtaking– I run out of words.
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Thank you so much! That is precisely the effect Sr. Marquez has on me. 😉
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Nice
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Thank you! 😉
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True treasure this. More later when I have pc no phone. End of third verse truely inspired.
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Thank you, Russel.
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He lives in his memories beyond Macondo…excellent piece Elaine! 🙂
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Thank you, Gavriel.
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Reblogged this on Greyhart Press and commented:
I’m sharing Elaine Stirling’s tribute to Nobel Prize winner, Gabriel Garcia Marquez (Gabo), who passed away recently. Elaine’s words speak for themselves.
Gabo was a man of many talents, but if there is a most notable work, it is surely ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ (1967) which did much to popularize magical realism. This is not some obscure strand of literature of interest only to historians. Gabo’s influence and that of magical realism in particular is not only relevant today but relevant to us here and now at Greyhart Press. We will shortly be publishing the novel ‘Daughters of Babylon’ by Elaine Stirling. Gabo, magical realism, and ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ are all major influences.
And while Elaine is yet to win her first Nobel Prize (or if she has, she’s kept it quiet from me) her post on Gabo was selected by the WordPress editors for their ‘Freshly Pressed’ showcase. Well done, Elaine!
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Thank you kindly for the reblog, Tim! These are exciting magical days…one day, in Stockholm. 😉
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I have my bow tie ready.
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I love this, exceptional work! He is my favorite too.
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Thank you so much, Inner Zone! It’s so wonderful that we can share these passions virtually.
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Yep, wrote him a love letter: http://thepigmentsoflife.wordpress.com/2014/04/21/a-love-letter-2/
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I did, yes. 😉 And then, once my confusion cleared, I understood you to say that YOU had written him a love letter, which I have since read and enjoyed IMMENSELY! Thank you for making the connection, dear Inner Zone.
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Congratulations Elaine on your piece here being featured at Freshly Pressed! This piece especially is a great one to ensure readers everywhere are waiting with great anticipation for your new novel, the Daughters of Babylon!
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Thank you, Creative! You are so much a part of the conversation that led to this piece, I truly can’t distinguish magic from realism anymore. And really, why bother?
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He was really great.
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He was, indeed! 🙂
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Reblogged this on Thoughts & Reflections.
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Thank you kindly for the reblog!
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Thank you kindly for the reblog!
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Too good not to!
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Aww, you are wonderful! 🙂
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I love that book!
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Me, too! 😉
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Thank you for your words. They are a moving tribute to my favorite author. I too wrote a love letter, though yours is better. To Switzerland!
http://69.89.31.201/~trippio0/dear-paramour/
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Milqdudz, I’ve just had the pleasure of reading your exquisite love poem, and I can tell that Sr. Marquez, beats in your heart too. Thank you for your kind comment…I feel honoured and grateful that we have this opportunity to express our love for Gabo in these magical, virtual ways. To Switzerland! 😉
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” Let us speak of love
Openly in the streets where myth
Vanquishes hard truth, and stories course
Eternally like tendrils of a vine.” As I began browsing around, I stopped to read this. The minute I came across these words, I became intrigued; thank you for introducing me to him! I’m excited to read and learn more.
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Soxgirl, you have made my fondest wish come true in writing this piece–that is, to bring a taste of Sr. Marquez’s magic to people who haven’t yet had the pleasure. You are in for a REAL treat! Thank you for taking the time to comment with such kindness. Once you’ve read Gabo, do let me know what you think! 🙂
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I’m a busy mom on the run with kids sports but I must admit that as I AM running back and forth to and from practices I took a moment to read a short passage from his farewell letter — I had tears rolling down my cheek. How touching. I’ll let you know what I think of his work.
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That would be wonderful, Soxgirl! And may your kids have their best sports season, ever! 🙂
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Beautiful.
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Thank you! 🙂
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Of course:)
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it was beautiful to read such a piece..!!
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Thank you for your kind comment!
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Amo a Gabo. leo frecuentemente sus maravillosas obras
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Yo, tambien. Gracias por leer! 😉
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Beautiful!
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Thank you so much!
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Wow Elaine you have certainly struck universal chords with this one! I bet you exclaimed out loud your joy when you realized Gabo had the perfect number of letters to make your acrostic work perfectly and it did; as did the sestina as a perfect form to convey the mystical mythical magical mix of reality or at least a dream of it while reading this author who is beloved by so many. I will add my accolades in calling this one of your finest. A pleasure too to read others’ poems that have gravatated here. And at the risk of wearing thin my welcome, I post here my poetic reaction to the transition of this giant. It is rather long but thank you in advance for your indulgence. In no way a match for the master’s words but hopefully express at least a bit of that magical realism I feel in this particular town where each time I come to it reminds me of Macondo.
Spring In the Time of Colusa
In Memorium Gabriel Garcia Marquez
For twenty three years now, for a week
at a time I have stayed in the very small
town of Colusa while I sell advertising
it was there during that twenty third year as
silent bells tolled late hours
the day after Gabo died
I pondered long on a subject
choice for my next written lines
fiddling about with this idea
and that as one is wont to do
rejecting and remixing when
in the window flew an instant
inspiration and from its curious
curve I learned what I must write
at first I thought it a butterfly
or moth as it seemed to flit
and then more like a bird on wing
or perhaps a bat or ball
hit way past the pitchers mound
over the fence and into the field
where dandelions grow and old
men walk dogs and young people
fall in love among the blooms
washed by sudden rains of spring
the fresh faces of the daffodils
and nodding heads of roses not
yet for a purpose picked waving
in the wind of neither hi nor bye
only colored thorned perfumes
ephemeral essences raising toward
unfettered arcs of the empyrean
escaping to gather on some distant
akashic alter of inhalations beyond Orion’s
breath, in an auspicious olfactory ossuary
where ontological jubilations are kept
and the crack of the ball on the bat
on the field where “The Big Wheel”
that once powered an entire factory
that processed rice stands now silent
unmoving, rusting in the sun and rain
though paddies are still flooded, planted
sprayed with pesticides by young men
in biplanes from the airport where gliders
launch their swooping fights from ground
at the foot of the smallest mountain
range in the world, Sutter Buttes–
bless Sutter’s butt for discovery of gold
his mill is still humming though much
goes up in smoke these days but that
keeps the industry of the plastic bag alive
poor things that dolphins choke on in mid
ocean are going extinct at ten cents a piece
if you can still find then—cutting trees for
bags makes more sense, there are plenty
of trees that can be replanted they are
sustainable even when chopped a hundred
square miles a day in the rain forest of the
Amazon so corn or beans or maybe even
rice can feed the hungry masses at the gates
flies buzz in multitudes but they are quiet
it is a dry buzz in Colusa in time of drought
the paddies lie fallow, yellow wings don’t flap
there are no wings that wander ever closer
to the flames though ducks still land when
sparse rains come and are shot and plucked
bass are wrangled from the river, the Sac
has never yet run dry though it runs mighty
slow these days through the delta near the bay
trees that line the streets here grow slow
steady shade for when in summer the air
here she no move and one year when I
arrived there was an old black man pitching
horse shoes by himself slow and easy in the
hot summer shade, I talked to him and this
is what he said, the living here is easy
as long as you don’t mind hard work
and can put up with a little humidity
once in a while; another year, as I approached
I saw a great plume of smoke, more than burning
rice straw would make and it turned out the fire
department was burning a house down for practice
I don’t think they do that very often. One of the last
phone calls I remember making from a phone booth
was from one no longer here–the mural nearby is still
pealing paint–a mother works hard to keep her shape
she seems the same for more than twenty years
children nor time have taken their toll—nature of
the place, I don’t think she allowed it, always writes
me a check and I give it right back filling up with gas
hard for me to resist a visit to the slot machines
at the Indian casino out on Wintun Road where
a time or two I’ve won forty or fifty dollars only
to return the following days and gift it back
only once was my win in the triple digits, this
twenty third year of my visiting; about time I
think, a very tidy sum with which I am probably
still only breaking even like the young woman
who has always been selling strawberries at
the stand beside the road in front of the endless
rows of orchard trees whose sure bet branches
I have seen bare naked, seen as quilts downed
with blossoms and laden with jackpot fruit
year after year like children chasing soccer
balls across school yard lawns to the tune
of lawnmowers lawnmowers lawnmowers
leaf blowers leaf blowers leaf blowers the
length of shaded quiet laughter lined streets
where the clink! of a baseball hitting a bat
can be heard long after summer sun has set
and if you listen close enough you can hear
the hum of bees and the whir of the Big Wheel
spinning still the same song as Natives on the
shores of this unlevied river heard, see high
scrawled glyphs of geese gaggling echoes at
shiny rectangles of water far below, hear the
duel of the lek of pheasants wings posturing
for pleasure like sweat here of work and leisure
I am here but for a few days a year, sometimes
as long as a week but then gone again for a year
yet each time I return it seems like only yesterday
that I worked my business here and went away
my customers here and I both exclaim. has it really
been that long and nod in disbelief as the Big Wheel
keeps on not turning and the jackpot comes up to bat.
D. Russel Micnhimer 4-23-2014
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Russel, you have written a wonderful homage in the spirit of Marquez. Hooked by that mysterious flitting through the window, I enjoyed this timeless tale. It feels sometimes like Americana, then pre-Columbian, gets a bit political, then down home and simple…I especially enjoyed the short stanzas and the subtle transition from tercet to quatrain and back again. You’ve paid a great tribute to Colusa, a town that’s given you so many magical memories.
It is pretty wonderful to learn that Marquez has touched hearts around the world. Thank you for your kind comments re. my sestina. The acrostic took some fiddling, and then it all fell into place.
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Wow. Just wow. I’m going to have to reread this piece and do some research on some of your references and verbiage. Inspiring and motivating. Way beyond my level of English.
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Thank you so much, jq! Researching forms and language is one of my favourite things. Enjoy the adventure! 😉
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Certainly different. A nicely written story.
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Thank you! 🙂
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Reblogged this on victormiguelvelasquez.
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Thank you kindly for the reblog, Victor!
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Yes! Gabo as they just to call over here in Colombia, thanks all of you for your writing and memories, i’m pretty proud GABO always been in my 100 year of life!!!
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What a delightful comment, Fritzee! I’d be very proud too to be from Colombia, and to breathe the same air as your Gabo. 🙂
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I don’t have words to describe. Simply Awesomee!
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Thank you so much, Meghaa. I’m very glad you enjoyed it.
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Love in the time of Gabriel Garcia Marquez! Very interesting read, thank you.
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Thank you, Beezz! It’s always a pleasure to meet another Gabo fan.
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I am very happy to have read that. thank you for your words.
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I appreciate your reading and your kind comment, Bradford.
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Beautiful…one of the driving forces behind improving my spanish is to one day read Gabriel Garcia Marquez in his own language….thankyou for the words of tribute…
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To read Sr. Marquez in his original language is a fabulous goal, in all senses of the word! Thank you for reading and for your kind comments.
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Reblogged this on fitandthacity and commented:
I love this
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Thank you kindly for your comment and the reblog! 🙂
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Your very welcome. I look forward to reading more from you. 🙂
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Reblogged this on dajwalk15 and commented:
JOSEPH IS COOL
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Reblogged this on emmadol's Blog.
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Reblogged this on vigneshramar.
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