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"cordova" poems
Cordova, far and lonely. Black pony, full moon, And olives in my pocket: Although I know the roads, I'll never reach Cordova. For the plain, for the wind, Black pony, red moon, And death is watching for me Beside Cordova's towers. Alas! the long, long highway, Alas! my valient pony, Alas, that death is waiting Before I reach Cordova. Cordova, far and lonely.
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Rider's Song
Something forgotten for twenty years: though my fathers and mothers came from Cordova and Vitepsk and Caernarvon, and though I am a citizen of the United States and less a stranger here than anywhere else, perhaps, I am Essex-born: Cranbrook Wash called me into its dark tunnel, the little streams of Valentines heard my resolves, Roding held my head above water when I thought it was drowning me; in Hainault only a haze of thin trees stood between the red doubledecker buses and the boar-hunt, the spirit of merciful Phillipa glimmered there. Pergo Park knew me, and Clavering, and Havering-atte-Bower, Stanford Rivers lost me in osier beds, Stapleford Abbots sent me safe home on the dark road after Simeon-quiet evensong, Wanstead drew me over and over into its basic poetry, in its serpentine lake I saw bass-viols among the golden dead leaves, through its trees the ghost of a great house. In Ilford High Road I saw the multitudes passing pale under the light of flaring sundown, seven kings in somber starry robes gathered at Seven Kings the place of law where my birth and marriage are recorded and the death of my father. Woodford Wells where an old house was called The Naked Beauty (a white statue forlorn in its garden) saw the meeting and parting of two sisters, (forgotten? and further away the hill before Thaxted? where peace befell us? not once but many times?). All the Ivans dreaming of their villages all the Marias dreaming of their walled cities, picking up fragments of New World slowly, not knowing how to put them together nor how to join image with image, now I know how it was with you, an old map made long before I was born shows ancient rights of way where I walked when I was ten burning with desire for the world's great splendors, a child who traced voyages indelibly all over the atlas , who now in a far country remembers the first river, the first field, bricks and lumber dumped in it ready for building, that new smell, and remembers the walls of the garden, the first light.
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1.5k
A Map Of The Western Part Of The County Of Essex In England
Something forgotten for twenty years: though my fathers and mothers came from Cordova and Vitepsk and Caernarvon, and though I am a citizen of the United States and less a stranger here than anywhere else, perhaps, I am Essex-born: Cranbrook Wash called me into its dark tunnel, the little streams of Valentines heard my resolves, Roding held my head above water when I thought it was drowning me; in Hainault only a haze of thin trees stood between the red doubledecker buses and the boar-hunt, the spirit of merciful Phillipa glimmered there. Pergo Park knew me, and Clavering, and Havering-atte-Bower, Stanford Rivers lost me in osier beds, Stapleford Abbots sent me safe home on the dark road after Simeon-quiet evensong, Wanstead drew me over and over into its basic poetry, in its serpentine lake I saw bass-viols among the golden dead leaves, through its trees the ghost of a great house. In Ilford High Road I saw the multitudes passing pale under the light of flaring sundown, seven kings in somber starry robes gathered at Seven Kings the place of law where my birth and marriage are recorded and the death of my father. Woodford Wells where an old house was called The Naked Beauty (a white statue forlorn in its garden) saw the meeting and parting of two sisters, (forgotten? and further away the hill before Thaxted? where peace befell us? not once but many times?). All the Ivans dreaming of their villages all the Marias dreaming of their walled cities, picking up fragments of New World slowly, not knowing how to put them together nor how to join image with image, now I know how it was with you, an old map made long before I was born shows ancient rights of way where I walked when I was ten burning with desire for the world's great splendors, a child who traced voyages indelibly all over the atlas , who now in a far country remembers the first river, the first field, bricks and lumber dumped in it ready for building, that new smell, and remembers the walls of the garden, the first light.
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43
Darlyn Cristabel Cordova-Valle hadn't seen her mother since she was one, She came to the U.S to see her mother, she was hospitalized not long after she arrived. Her mother requested for her to be released, the government denied her request. Darlyn died in U.S government custody on September 29th 2018 age 10. Jakelin Amei Rosemary Caal Maquin liked to climb trees. She jumped when her father told her that she could come to the U.S with him. She thought she might get her first toy; she'd only just got her first pair of shoes. Jakelin died in U.S government custody on December 8th 2018 age 7. Felipe Gomez Alonzo was excited to come to the U.S. he thought he might get a bicycle, his parents let him make the trip after he got upset that his dad would leave without him. Felipe died in U.S government custody on Christmas Eve 2018 age 8. Juan de Leon Gutierrez was a shy, good student. When he had to miss school to help his dad harvest coffee, he'd always run to catch his teacher so he could explain his absence. Juan died in U.S government custody on April 30th 2019 age 16. Wilmer Josue Ramirez Vasquez's mother brought him to the U.S to receive medical treatment for a condition which left him unable to walk. Wilmer died in U.S government custody on May 14th 2019 age 2. Carlos Gregario Hernandez Vasquez loved playing the piano and bass, his family called him Goyito. He had eight brothers and sisters. One of them, Edgar, had special needs. Carlos came to the U.S to help support Edgar. Carlo died in U.S government custody on May 30th 2019 age 16. These are only some of the documented deaths, In 25 years, It's estimated that over 10,000 people have lost their lives at the U.S-Mexico border.
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Aug 2, 2020
Aug 2, 2020 at 3:03 PM UTC
A Tribute
Darlyn Cristabel Cordova-Valle hadn't seen her mother since she was one, She came to the U.S to see her mother, she was hospitalized not long after she arrived. Her mother requested for her to be released, the government denied her request. Darlyn died in U.S government custody on September 29th 2018 age 10. Jakelin Amei Rosemary Caal Maquin liked to climb trees. She jumped when her father told her that she could come to the U.S with him. She thought she might get her first toy; she'd only just got her first pair of shoes. Jakelin died in U.S government custody on December 8th 2018 age 7. Felipe Gomez Alonzo was excited to come to the U.S. he thought he might get a bicycle, his parents let him make the trip after he got upset that his dad would leave without him. Felipe died in U.S government custody on Christmas Eve 2018 age 8. Juan de Leon Gutierrez was a shy, good student. When he had to miss school to help his dad harvest coffee, he'd always run to catch his teacher so he could explain his absence. Juan died in U.S government custody on April 30th 2019 age 16. Wilmer Josue Ramirez Vasquez's mother brought him to the U.S to receive medical treatment for a condition which left him unable to walk. Wilmer died in U.S government custody on May 14th 2019 age 2. Carlos Gregario Hernandez Vasquez loved playing the piano and bass, his family called him Goyito. He had eight brothers and sisters. One of them, Edgar, had special needs. Carlos came to the U.S to help support Edgar. Carlo died in U.S government custody on May 30th 2019 age 16. These are only some of the documented deaths, In 25 years, It's estimated that over 10,000 people have lost their lives at the U.S-Mexico border.
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17
See me. Really see me. As I see you. I've heard of you woman, I knew your eyes were oceans and your heart was a sacrifice long before I came burning out of the desert. I know that you were beaten and I know you had your soul ripped out by the ones who ought to have cherished you. But I....I am not those men. I was not sent here to take but to give. I long for the lost gardens of Cordova, for the glory that was love and light along the banks of the Guadilqivir that river still flowing through my heart. Yes, by all means test my resolve, I have witnessed too much horror to let one more heart be wasted. I want to love you, I want to take your suffering heart and pour all the love God has given me into your many wounds. But it isn't in my power to do that, It isn't given to me to rewrite your book of tears and sacrifice. I have been sent here, journeying so long and so far that I had nearly forgotten what a home felt like until I woke with you in my arms. You kissed me, and I heard the music again. You touched my soul, and the rains came at last. You open my heart, and I remember.
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Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 5:31 AM UTC
Remember
A sparkling afternoon with a veteran of the slave ships. Our careless liberty. My hands on her hips. Adrift on the water and ending too soon. Last night we walked the salmon run, and spoke with our eyes. Her honeyed tounge Numbing my deceit. Like a Colombian curse. With her in the tower. Laid bare to addiction. In the hot moisture of our fusion. Dew drops from her salty skin, indulging each exquisite sin, unharnessed. Bound for daybreak. Once I might have had the nerve to sabotage the Polar Star. With a road flare in the engine room or an auger bit below. But time has torn the spine from me. And groomed me for humanity. I've bent my knee to smoke and fear And now I know the lash. When winter comes I'll hit Cordova and find out where she keeps her dogs. So that I might lay beside them, with my gentle hands upon them, and howl for her return.
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Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 4:20 PM UTC
Polar Star