The University of Idaho Poem

*The University of Idaho*

Every significant moment in history that is covered
By the historians and the professors, is not only discussed
For what took place, but how they got there.
The common question from the inquisitive mind is simply,
What Led to It?

This very day in present time, there are students who
Have arrived to make their own history.
To mark their time on this earth and leave behind something of value for those who trail behind.
What led them to this?

What drove them to take Route 12, into the rapids and snow-covered mountains?
What led them to run through the rivers that led them right into the Hello Walk?

What led these students to trek this rugged terrain into a gem with the Memorial Gym
That is as architecturally admired as the Tudor-Gothic Administration Building, complete with its 80-Foot clock tower?

It may in part have been the Lionel Hampton Jazz Festival, or the friendly Idahoans
Who invited them in.
But there is one thing for certain…

Each one of these Vandals was driven to enter this land
With intentions of seizing the Silver and Gold,
Then to walk on, at large, as free men.

And when the Vandals run off
&
Leave their marks,

It is this University that led them to it.

From Alma Mater Vol. 3: The West
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
©2016. Original Clyde Aidoo. All rights reserved

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Biola University Poem

*Biola University*

In such institutes as this with science and what ifs,
We are all bestowed with the natural gifts.
Questions shall exist long after our time drifts,
But how can man question such evident gifts?
What we earned is worked for in course of four-year shifts,
but
We are all delivered with these natural gifts:

The eyes to see the library’s Tower of Light,
The eyes for the Mural to Rise in plain sight.

Nostrils to smell clean air by the fountain of Fluor,
And hints when friends pass by to linger outdoors.

Mouths for Bon Appétit where jaws freely pry,
The mouth to enjoy flavors of sweet Punk ’N’ Pie.

The ears to hear the sounds of bands at Eddy’s,
And Biola Bells that put one at ease.

The hands to touch each other with gestures of thought,
With the warmth of Christmas—our gift the Son brought.

The sense to feel the magic of life everywhere,
And the sense to know some thought put it there.

Like Missions Conference where thought powers the mind,
These gifts are showered by
Intelligence by Design.

From Alma Mater Vol. 3: The West
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
©2016. Original Clyde Aidoo. All rights reserved

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University of Rochester Poem

*U of R*

(Set to the Melody of “Some Nights” by fun.)

Some Nights I Stay Up
Tweaking hard on Starbucks,
Cramming to pass the vital laps.
Some Nights I wish that
Rochester had White Castle,
Boy I sure crave those tasty sacks.

But I still wake up,
And now it’s time to test,
Oh Lord,
Give me a sign…
Me-li-or-aaa…

What Does It Stand For?
What Does That Stand For?

Bad Sign.
I Forgot…

Any moooo-oore?
Ohhh-whoaaa-oh!
Ohhh-whoaaa-oh!
Ohoh!

Whoaaa-oh!
Whoa-ohhhhh-oh!
Whoa-ohhhh-oh!
Whoaoh!

This is it, guys,
U of R!
The anthem of who you are!
Let’s get the troops and rally for
D-Dayyyyyyy

Eastman is best, Believe the Hype!
The Ramblers
Sing Through Midnight,
The music here is quite alright,
Yo,
Don’t even try
To Jack Our Style…

That’s not alright.

You can still go to a show tonight,
Though you’re not this good your school can always
Try. Try. Try.

Ayyyeee-ay-aye
That’s Humble Pie.
Mmm…
Mmm…

Well,
Some nights I wish that
The snow would end,
Come Winterfest, there always is a change.

And some nights,
I’m scared to eat at The Pit,
Some nights, you just can’t win.
Can’t win…

But I still wake up,
I still see the sign,
Oh Lord,
I still forgot
What Meliora stands for…

What Does It Stand For?
What Does That Stand For?

How can…
I not knowww!??!

Oh, Come onnnnn…

So this is it?
I left my home for this?
Took out a bunch of loans for this?
Put mom and dad in debt for this?

Yes.
Here I see stars, I see, Yellowjacket stars that’s what they are,
And when I hear songs…

They read like this one, so
Come Onnnnnnnnnnn
Oh, Come Onnnnnnnnnn
Aw, Come Onnnnnnnnnn
OH, Come Onnnnnnnnnn

WELL,
This is it guys,
That is all!
If I could go back I’d do it again,
I’d do ten years of this
And hope my counselor understands!
This is why I left my home,
Sorry to bail, Mom, I had to go,
Who the fuck wants to stay at home
And miss out on this righteous fun?

My heart breaks for anybody
Who got stuck in other schools,
When I looked up and saw the sign…
Man you wouldn’t believe…
It all came back to me…

I remember-er-err…

Me-lio-raaaaaahaaaahaaahh. aaaahahah..ahhahhhaaah.
Bet-terrr.
Ahhahhhaahhh..ahhaaaaah–ah-ahuhAhahAhuhUhuh

Ohhh-whoaaa!
Ohh-whoaaa-oh!
Ohhh-whoaaa-oh!
Ohoh!

Whoaaa-oh!
Whoa-ohhhhh-oh!
Whoa-ohhhh-oh!
Whoaoh!

The other night you wouldn’t believe
The dream that I had about you and me!
We got into Harvard but then we agreed…

Rochester is way better…

Rochester is Always Beeettterrr…

We knew Rochester is Beeeetterrrr…

This sign told me Rochester is
Ever Better.

From Alma Mater Vol. 2: The Northeast
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2015 Clyde Aidoo

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Colgate University Poem

*Colgate University*

It was Colgate Day, Friday the 13th,
And this is the tale of the Lucky 13:

Running in a panic on this haunted night,
Not a soul around or a party in sight,
The G Phi B ran clear of the silence,
Into a safe house that emptied the dryness.
Finding this house was just Colgate luck,
And there were twelve others who partook in such.

Three people got lucky for the first time,
Giving it away after taking their time.
Two lovers first kissed while they walked the Willow Path,
Knowing that a wedding lay in its aftermath.
One passed a math test with only blind guesses,
Luck is the factor no proctor assesses.
A Raider scored the winning goal to beat Cornell,
The luck is the Raider shot the same time he fell.
A couple caught a glimpse of our Adam & Eve,
The swans at the lake that helped feed their reprieve.
One got a free drink at the Old Stone Jug,
And it came with a wink from the bartender’s mug.
Through the COVE a Raider was lucky enough—
To be the one to boost one down on her luck.
And one got the letter of acceptance from the dean,
To complete this great legend of the Lucky 13.

From Alma Mater Vol. 2: The Northeast
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2015 Clyde Aidoo

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Stony Brook University Poem

*Stony Brook University*

(Cheer Cadence)

What’s—a Seawolf??
He’s—a Seawolf!
What’s—a Seawolf??
She’s—a Seawolf!
What—are Seawolves??
We’re—the Seawolves!
Where are—the Seawolves?

Well-Well-Well-Well…

We-are: the-Seawolves: of-Sto-ny Brook,
Catching: the bait-ers: with-a left hook!
Wond’ring: who-we are, no more, no más,
They-study: this sea-life, like-the SoMAS!
You’ll-find: The Red Zone, storming: the dorms,
We-are: Red Hot, with: the-coo-lest norms:
Chillfest: in fall, again-in: the spring,
Roth-Pond: Re-gat-ta, then-the: bands sing!
Parties: on Thurs-days: around: the block,
When-we: come home, then: we-got: Wolfstock!
Homecom-ing brings: all alum-ni back,
At-the Par-ade: it’s: the-whole: wolf pack!
Strawber-ry Fest: this-day is: so sweet,
Af-ter the-ber-ries: there’s oth-er treats:
Music, and danc-ing, these are: the joys,
Found-in: Long-Island, Ahoy, Ahoy!
We-are: the-Seawolves: crashing: the shores,
Of-this: new camp-us, then-crash-ing yours!
With-teams: that’s ready, ready: to bound,
Shocking: the World-on: the-base-ball mound!
Look out: sports world, here Stony: Brook comes,
Our pro-grams: are rising: from-out: the slums,
Straight-to: the top, with: the-red & gray,
Like-Mon-day’s café—we’re ready: to play,
This-is: our spirit, this-is: our way,
Ask-what: we are, and Seawolves: will say,

I-I-I-I-I Am A Seawolf!

From Alma Mater Vol. 2: The Northeast
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2015 Clyde Aidoo

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Hofstra University Poem

*Hofstra University*

The red morning sky brings Gold,
White,
&
Blue,
A sky falling with “Dutchmen,”
Bring the wooden shoe;
For this name of the Dutchmen
Flies no more,
It’s with a new Purpose
The Pride Shall Roar.
In a spring fest, Hofstra
Goes Dutch,
Through Italy and Ireland
The senses touch—
Experiences of culture
along New York,
emanating in the air
along Newport.
On deck, we board destinations
of the globe,
And dwell in our Films
& Theatre in
Globe;
Lodging a Greek Life
that like David bares all:
our spirit of Pride
from the gates of fall.

We build floats and bonfires
to lead us Home,
And resist the departure
Of what we’ve known;
But know there’s a world
With red skies of dawn
That we can all reach
When known
James Caan.

We will leave the Misery of defeat
as foreign,
And retain the habits that tour
Occurrence,
Italy, Ireland, all
U.S.A.,
Wherever there is beauty—
We’re on our way;
Hofstra is a world where we all
Take Pride,
And the purpose of world-taking
Takes the steadfast Pride.
The purpose of world-taking takes the steadfast Pride,
The purpose of world-taking takes the steadfast Pride.

From Alma Mater Vol. 2: The Northeast
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2015 Clyde Aidoo

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St. John’s University Poem

*St. John’s University*

“’Tis better to give than to receive.”
In this season of giving, the
white winter flakes dress a sweater of
inner warmth outside St. Augustine Hall
for the viewer. The wind is frosty—but shileding
of the nature of this tradition where the snow
brings bodies together.
Within the parameters of St. John’s University
and indeed out into
Queens, Manhattan, & All New York,
To the patterns of Christmas:
We Give.

We give the Bread of Life to the ailing
and underprivileged through
a food pantry & true goods
Rushed to the immobile.
We make Midnight Runs to
Shelters like St. Nick’s like St. Nick—
With red sacks of bundling that share
our school colors. In the struggle against
community downpouring, we are
The Storm Front
of bountiful outpourings.

We also give on campus:
Freshmen receiving free laptops upon entrance,
Live music & coffee at the DAC—where Johnnies
Can enjoy a cup of Joe.
Inside MSG, with assists from
Mark Jackson, Chris Mullin, and coaches like
Carnesecca & Lapchick—
We have given our school a history to be proud of:
A place on the Top 10 list of college basketball’s
Most winningest teams.

The Red Storm takes
The World’s Greatest Arena then
Plunges the World in a program that
Services places like New Salem, Lourdes, and Panama.
Back home we recognize that for some—this season
is often the loneliest,
so at Ozanam Hall we are always
Giving time back to the elderly.

The Ronald McDonald House of Long Island
helps alleviate the pain of children who
suffer, by lifting some of the struggle from those they love most.
And at Christmastime we sponsor families of hardship by
Providing to those whose hopes were low:
The returned gift of hope,
That continues to give without furlough.

Christmas is a time to cherish the
Vincentian values,
and the Christmas wish found in the
Miracle of St. John’s—
Where we Give and we also Receive,
but we
never
Take
for granted.

From Alma Mater Vol. 2: The Northeast
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2015 Clyde Aidoo

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Syracuse University Poem

*Syracuse*

Northwest of Orangetown, New York,
Traveling east of a town called Orangeville,
You will come upon
Syracuse, New York:

Welcome to Orange Nation.

***

There’s an Orange progressive spill
That’s Radioactive.
The contagion is the Syracuse thrill
Going Retroactive.
History’s reshaped
inside
Orange Nation;
In Syracuse, New York,
Where we claim
This Nation.

Breaking down the Times of New York,
That’s News,
Discussions in these top-level buildings,
That’s Views,
The D.O. print is Syracuse
World News,
The North Campus Quad is where
The Orange runs through.
Said
The North Campus Quad is where
The Orange runs through,
In the House of Orange
only
Orange Comes Through,
In Syracuse,
Orange is all we see,
Orange channels through our campus—
CitrusTV.

The Place of Remembrance:
The Orange lives in it,
This Orange Nation,
Yeah,
We in it,
At the Carrier Dome—
The Orange gets in it,
Now we goin’ off…

Code Orange.

Carrier is goin’ off…
Code Orange,
Blow the roof off the dome, blow it off,
Go Orange;
We got 35 thou’ goin’ off,
Code Orange.

This Orange Nation,
Yeah,
We in it,
At the Carrier Dome—
The Orange gets in it,
A debate of better Northeast teams:
We end it.

Lacrosse Champions Eleven Times:
Count ’em up,
Led by #Deuce-Deuce
that’s right,
Double Up,
On field it’s 44s that’s another
Double Up:
Davis, Little, Brown,
Knuckle up.

In hoops we got the ’03 Champs,
Go ‘Melo,
When Orange takes the court
Y’all streak
Goes yellow,
While our streak of 43
winning seasons
Goes, “Hello.”

43 teams in a row—
That’s the record,
35 thou’ in one house,
That’s a record,
We got the best fans in college hoops,
That’s on record.

Otto’s Army stands and claps till we score,
And when the thunder slams,
The louder we roar,
The best college stadium’s
The House of Orange,
We blow the Dome off like nukes:

That’s Code Orange.

This Orange Nation,
Yeah,
We in it,
An M-Street Bar?
The Orange comes in it,
The best state parties?
Syracuse wins it.

Syra-Syracuse Parties—
Get into it,
Syra-Serious Parties—
Get into it,
Name the Frat Row House—
Bet we all went to it.

Join the Comstock parties
and drink in jest,
This row leads to the blast of the year—
Mayfest.

Here’s to a great year,
Let’s drink to Mayfest,
This is the Showcase of Drinking,
Let’s drink through Mayfest,
Here’s to next year,
Let’s drink till next fest!

Drinking in front of cops
without an arrest?
Only in April—
At Mayfest!
Like our Army these shots go
Straight to the Dome,
And the best part?
The cops leave us alone!

Let’s go to the Row every week,
Go Orange,
Parties ’round the clock,
Talkin’
Clockwork Orange,
This a nation’s tribute
Call this piece
Ode Orange,
Get in the party,
Say the code,

#CodeOrange

From Alma Mater Vol. 2: The Northeast
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2015 Clyde Aidoo

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SUNY-ESF Poem

*SUNY—ESF*

On the voyage to a clean environment,
ESF has Oaks who lead the way,
A cutting-edge college for our planet’s maintenance,
Guarding creation, Grazing astray.
Aboriginal we are—with the sole path
of environmental study & all its sciences,
Tilling the mind until we strike the pipeline,
Unearthing nature’s treasured appliances:

Retreats to Cranberry Lake in the summer,
The parks of New York—a gift from God,
Explore what leads souls to parts unknown,
But do not ever cross the Quad.
We’re befrienders to our Syra-neighbors,
With visits to the Orange in the Carrier Dome,
Then we go back to the green of the forest,
To find Mother Nature & carry her home.
ESF is more than a factor of results,
We, in essence, have become the cause,
Assuring the world spins to where love begins,
With a new model the Oaks have caused.
Come join the cause—for the selfish reasons,
So the betterment can turn the best of both worlds:
When you improve the self at ESF,
That, in turn,
Improves your world.

From Alma Mater Vol. 2: The Northeast
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2015 Clyde Aidoo

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Posted in Poetry

Cornell University Poem

*Cornell University*

The bells of McGraw are the air of Cornell,
Every breathing form chimes in.
The Big Red is in our veins
and our song—
&
Every beating heart climbs in.
Cornell gathers as one
in concert,
For Odysseys on the land of Ithaca;
In unison we sing the Cornell name,
and like our architects—the song builds

To the high points of Bradfield, Milstein,
the Johnson Museum—
Architecture that has the nation singing the praises
of the constructive minds
this program raises.
Like the pillars of Victorian and gothic—we align,
Mapping construction’s apex—by design,
Our forward progress is one that’s breaking:
News, molds, bounds, and grounds;
We delivered journalism to college degrees,
Reshaped engineering to model what’s found:
A reflection of catharsis throughout this town,
In landmarks like Sage, where founders
Rest Sound
Knowing their broad charity will give on,
And they, and our traditions, will live on.

Cornelliana sings of our amore,
It seeps & keeps—the red core,
A tradition of fire that grows each day,
Up to the height of year’s end:
Slope Day.
Cornelliana carries our campus in link,
With wins carried in tow on Lynah rink,
This wide student body shares the same red wagon,
Spirits lifted and moving like the Cornell Dragon.

The fire of our chorus—sounds in our bells,
The song of our spirit—each student exhales,
We breathe this fire that vanquishes hell,
Found in this heaven—
All hail,
Cornell.

From Alma Mater Vol. 2: The Northeast
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2015 Clyde Aidoo

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Posted in Poetry