Kansas State University Poem

Posted on July 15, 2024 by clydeaidoo — Leave a comment

*K-State*

Inside of the Royal Purple Yearbook,
There is a picture that smiles of Kate.
Kate came to K-State to placate her four-year relationship
with her boyfriend Will—who scored a basketball scholarship.
In these pages endures Kate’s happiness.
She came to K-State because she was in love,
&
Then she fell in love.
She fell for the Haymaker,
The Limestone buildings, the Little Apple, the friendly faithful…
And in this yearbook there are other pictures of Wildcats under this magic spell.
There are students who took the Honor Pledge and now glory stands.
These pages are shed with the colors of scholars: Students Phi Betta Kappa, Rhodes, Truman, Marshall…fierce minds in this Student Scholar Capital.
These colors tell the lives of gleeful declaration. Sons of farmers and grangers, and Wildcats together in the K-State student union, Hale Library, or like Kate & Will—enjoying a cool treat from Call Hall.
There are students still exuberant from the previous night in Aggieville, and there are photos of the Sunflower Showdown—with a volleyball image of Wildcats leaping to another win.

Jayhawk Down.

There are snapshots of shouts of
“Eat ‘Em Up, Eat ‘Em Up, K-S-U” that bring these vivid catcalls to life right in Purple & White.
This yearbook symbolizes more than a timeline of this year’s events.
It proves this is the print of the Wildcat claw;
And whether from Wichita or all the way from Miami,
Together, we can shout,
EMAW!
Manhattan fields and sharpens these claws,
And in this home we all say,
EMAW!

This big campus prepares us in smaller classrooms, so that like Will, everyone can feel like
the big man on campus.
This is a place to discover and love….
It is a place to be in love.

Kate was proud of Will entering the storied Bramlage Coliseum, but she dreaded
The Octagon of Doom:
The Magic 8-Ball that says love can’t make it through the luring flames of infidelity that so many athletes walk through.
Four years later within the Royal Purple,
In spite of the Magic 8-Ball,
Kate & Will have survived the fire,
joining
Wabash Cannonball.

From Alma Mater Vol. 1: The Midwest
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2014 Clyde Aidoo

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University of Northern Iowa Poem

Posted on July 14, 2024 by clydeaidoo — Leave a comment

*University of Northern Iowa*

There’s a magic in the colors of
U-N-I,
Everywhere you go—
Purple & Gold
Pass By,
Panthers United
Is the reason why:
13,000 spirits make
U-N-I

Welcome to the UNI-Dome!
Home of thirty-three conference titles,
More than any Division I Iowa Team,
We sing the victory songs, our foes
Give the recitals.
Purple and Gold fill the arena!
There’s Purple T-shirts everywhere!
It is the wild call of the Panther faithful
That leads the Panthers on a merciless tear.
The UNI bloodline travels through the college system,
Through blood we fight the classes of failure’s cold,
Like Kurt Warner holding the Lombardi trophy:
It is UNI’s courses that lead to gold.

There’s a magic in the colors of
U-N-I,
Everywhere you go—
Purple & Gold
Pass By,
Panthers United
Is the reason why:
13,000 spirits make
U-N-I

It is midnight on Homecoming Friday,
The bells sound and Panthers race to the tower,
Old Lovers, New Lovers, and Fond Strangers
Meet as custom dictates at the top of the hour.
Cedar Falls is where many passions meet,
And when they meet, it is truly Homecoming,
Ladies are not Panthers until they join this parade:
Kissing by the campanile with their heart’s beat drumming.

There’s a magic in the colors of
U-N-I,
Everywhere you go—
Purple & Gold
Pass By,
Panthers United
Is the reason why:
13,000 spirits make
U-N-I

From Alma Mater Vol. 1: The Midwest
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2014 Clyde Aidoo

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Posted in Alma Mater, Poetry

Iowa Hawkeyes Poem

Posted on July 13, 2024 by clydeaidoo — Leave a comment

*Iowa Hawkeyes*

When history’s pages sit still—we will write first.
We don’t accept inequality—we right the curse.
This is an equal-opportunity space
Where biases erase and creativity may race.
On Ye Hawkeyes to the Pedestrian Mall!
Where the only thing pedestrian is the walks of us all!
Iowa took the first step to give equal ground
To men and women with options abound.
This sweet land homes the imagination,
Birthing masters of fine arts in our dissertation,
Stating that creativity and genius are kin,
In terms of Big Ten—It’s Iowa for the win.

I-City parties and fights the hardest,
My city is my guide, this spirit—my harvest.
Deep it flows like the Iowa River,
We’re owners of this fire and also the givers.
Black and Gold pride burns inside,
Opponents enter Kinnick and abruptly hide,
They rattle to the rattle of the Hawkeye fleet,
We clap our hands & stomp our feet.
Iowa fights until the game is won,
Then toasts Brass Monkey with shots of rum.
In wrestling we work holds because they can’t hang,
No dynasty can match Dan Gable’s Gang.

Winning is our history, we should know:
We wrote it.
We win fighting inaction—
Inclusion was voted.
To ensure every student at large has a say,
Hawkeyes are straight, black, white, and gay.
In asking answers from winners of equity,
The initiative to act will hoist a disparity,
Sometimes the high stick to their class and do not act,
So they sit still and class participation slacks.
While the world is waiting to take command,
Like Triumphant Hawkeyes—
We will raise our hand.

From Alma Mater Vol. 1: The Midwest
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2014 Clyde Aidoo

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Indiana University Poem

Posted on July 13, 2024 by clydeaidoo — Leave a comment

*IU*

It’s game night in B-Town at Assembly Hall.
Everyone has their ticket,
It’s Hoosier Basketball.
No Stripes, No Glory,
17,472 strong…
21 Big Ten Championships,
Five National Banners
brought along:

1940
1953
1981
1987

The Blessed Hoosiers of ’76.

Fans from all over town stand under
The Banners of McCracken and Knight,
Some came from Indiana trails,
Others from an on-campus site.
From the Rose Well House
deep in the Dunn Woods,
The breathtaking arboretum—
With arbutuses in their books.
They stream like the Jordan River
into the raging storm of red,
They pound the Indy Limestone—
To have their Hoosiers led
by the most passionate fans in college hoops,
Indiana Basketball is in our roots.

The Hall is sold out and our voices lift,
It’s almost time for tip-off,
And when the Crimson and Cream take the court,
It’s time to blow the lid off.
They warm up in their candy-striped pants,
Then Martha cleans the floor,
Our Indiana, we’re all for you,
Now let’s finish mopping the floor.
This is our culture, We are the Hoosiers,
The opponents are just the Losers in Blue,
Over in Row 8, well, those are the Boozers,
but they’re part of our culture, too.
So are the brains from the SPEA,
And performers from the Jacobs School of Music,
Also, the informed Business Majors
are here in attendance to support The Movement.
Even fellow athletes like our champion hurlers,
And alum Will Bruin from our prestigious soccer team,
Have come through Sample Gates
to show support for Indy’s team.
And shoutout to the racers of the Little 500—
The Beta Theta Pi is in the house!
We’re all still recovering from Little 5 weekend,
Drank enough Hairy Bears to fill a frat house.
Eight months later and those times we still miss,
But if they didn’t end—we’d miss nights like this.

It’s the second half and we have the lead,
Now it’s the World’s Greatest Timeout:
Cheerleaders and William Tell Overture,
Dickie V is about to fall out.
He’s in the Basketball Nation, Baby!
And this excitement is too much to take,
Break’s over, let’s get back to work:
We’ve got many more baskets to make.

“Zeller the rebound! Hulls is open!”

#Swish!

“Zeller…Watford sees a lane!”

#Tothebucket!

“They wanna give Watford a little one-on-one…”

#Crossoverlayin

“That’s a big-time move!”

Down 72-70
5.6 seconds left…

“No timeouts for Indiana….Jones….”

“WATFORD FOR THE WIN………”

Every Hoosier in Assembly Hall, the street, and the campus,
Even students watching from Kirkwood & Indiana…
Could feel the foundations shake as Hoosiers charged the court….
17,472 strong.

And throughout Indiana and Sports Nation,
All the way to Kentucky,
You couldn’t help but
feel
The Movement.

From Alma Mater Vol. 1: The Midwest
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2014 Clyde Aidoo

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University of Indianapolis

Posted on July 13, 2024 by clydeaidoo — Leave a comment

*University of Indianapolis*

It’s been another long night at UIndy. Everyone’s studying for the exams—complete with writing cramps,
Frappuccino solitude,
And peace between half-functioning roommates.
Stand up, stretch your legs…
Break the silence with a much-needed break…
It’s Midnight,
Let’s go get some Breakfast.

Midnight Breakfast in Schwitzer is where UIndy races
in preparation to meet the Finals head-on.
Residents from Roberts, Cravens, Warren, Crowe…
Everyone on and even off campus scramble to the Center to get some eggs,
sausage links, hash browns, donuts, and yes,
More coffee, Professor.
This is the rest stop where Greyhounds refuel.

Students are wearing hoodies, sweats,
Scarlet & Gray Scarves,
Some lay on the carpet aside the walking aisles,
Some sit with friends at a table,
Others sit Indian Style.
It is the calm of the night with late-night company,
Exhausted minds—and yet no one is tired,
Greyhounds could bark & bite it up right here forever,
Even after the moon and stars have expired.
There are pages and books on the floor & blankets,
There’s also some dancing & plenty of laughter,
This is a place where clamor and calm sit together,
To help students prepare for the day after.

There’s something special about studying with close friends
Under the moonlight,
That makes performance anxiety
Feel alright.
Greyhounds don’t need to go to sleep—
They give it a rest;
So their minds can stay up
for the grinds
of the test.

From Alma Mater Vol. 1: The Midwest
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2014 Clyde Aidoo

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Posted in Alma Mater, Poetry

Indiana State University Poem

Posted on July 11, 2024 by clydeaidoo — Leave a comment

*Indiana State*

ISU is a family in a Sycamore tree,
No Redbirds or Cardinals
In this Family Tree,
The only Bird from this tree is #33,
No Cardinal or Red in
this
Sycamore tree.

Blue and white maple leaves
Are in this Family Tree;
Blue and White never leaves
Our Family Tree,
When our young fly the coop—
We help them flee:
But their colors
Will Remain
In the Sycamore Tree.

Ignorance is blind,
Our Teachers
Help them see,
Fighting to empower students:
Here comes victory.
It’s graduation day—and from the Sycamore Tree:
Family members are proud to watch their Sycamores flee—
On to the world,
Gone to victory.

Seize the day—take the sky and the clouds,
They’ll remember this as
Blue & White Day.
Reach for the sky then take the clouds and loudly say,
This is our homecoming:
Blue & White Day.
In our taken sky you’ll hear a thunderous cry:
This is Indiana State—
Raining
Blue & White Day.
Graduation day we’ll claim the sky and clouds then say:
This is our day,
Sweet
Blue & White Day.

From Alma Mater Vol. 1: The Midwest
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2014 Clyde Aidoo

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Posted in Poetry

Butler University Poem

Posted on July 10, 2024 by clydeaidoo — Leave a comment

*Butler University*

The Butler Way is the understanding that it is much easier to make a clapping sound with the use of two hands. And when ten hands share the orange circle,
What results is a
Round of Applause.

Many hands have joined together inside the Hinkle Fieldhouse to pay reverence to
The basketball cathedral of Indiana. Like a chapel injecting a granted prayer, this Fieldhouse has been a house of healing with manufacturers of magic:

Bobby Plump’s game-winning shot for the 1954 Indiana State Championship.
Roosevelt Jones stealing a Gonzaga lob with 3.5 seconds remaining to drive down the court and nail the game winner.
The magic in this Fieldhouse has unleashed The Bulldogs to back-to-back Final Four victories, and we won’t stop running until we capture that championship banner.
Since 1928, the Hinkle Fieldhouse has hosted presidents, record-breaking Pan American games, and most of all:
Basketball.
Tony Hinkle shaped the basketball and the form of the game
with the Hinkle system that has sprouted throughout the sport.
In 1928, the historic Hinkle Fieldhouse was shaped;
Thereafter, through history—the Fieldhouse has shaped us.
Winston Churchill’s belief in the power of a building
Has taken life through the memories of us.
Today, Butler sells out Home Sweet Hinkle,
With Indiana’s history in our hearts.

GO DAWGS!

History is a shadow that every man wants to illumine,
But no man can light or write it alone.
The Butler Way is leading the Bulldogs to the annuls of Hoosier history,
And in this company,
The applause light will never fade.

From Alma Mater Vol. 1: The Midwest
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2014 Clyde Aidoo

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Posted in Alma Mater, Poetry

Ball State University Poem

Posted on July 9, 2024 by clydeaidoo — Leave a comment

Ball State

We Party Hard—
This Ball State.
Ball Hard—
Party Late.
We Ball Hard—
At Ball State,
Made it to Muncie, Indy,
Now Let’s Celebrate!

We Ball Hard—
All State.
In Muncie you’re in good hands—
Allstate.
We Ball Hard—
Party Late.
Ball Hard—
Talkin’
’bout
Ball State.

The home of the Ball Brothers,
We’re all brothers,
We All in the Family—
Sally Struthers.
The Indy Party Scene—We Define,
The concept of parties—redefined,
We even drink before finals:
We’ll be fine.
Open containers—
Toss away the fines.

Ball State rolls deep—
Like, “Any takers?”
We ride like a Lamborghini,
Y’all stuck in Studebakers.

Show up to the party like,
“Yeah, this here is the party life.”
Drink hardy
at
a Delta party then
House parties—we goin’ HAM tonight.
Man, these parties are gonna SLAM tonight:
New York, Carson, Dill Street,
The Chug, then drinkin’
on Dick Street…
Yeah, Ball’s on Dick’s,
He.He.

Cops want to take our rights,
We fight back,
We keep the Ball filled with liquor
Now it’s ’bout to crack.
We not afraid of cops—
In this neighborhood,
Think they can stop this party?
Yah, they wish they could….

Damn!
Here come the police!
Later, Man!
Them boys ask too many questions—
Letterman.

We Party Hard—
This Ball State.
Ball Hard—
Party Late.
We Ball Hard—
At Ball State.
Got out on bail!
Time to celebrate!

We had some Jäger’ in the trunk—
We
got it crunk,
Show up to Late Night—
Already Drunk.

Then we can party safe:
Alcohol Free,
But everyone can see—
We alcohol freed.

I’m feelin’ Free—
in Middletown.
This school’s for me—
It’s my kind of town.
There are many schools,
but out them all,
I’ll make my own chances:
Give me The Ball.

From Alma Mater Vol. 1: The Midwest
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2014 Clyde Aidoo

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Purdue University Poem

Posted on July 9, 2024 by clydeaidoo — Leave a comment

*Purdue University*

We make our own way in a mass transfer of vim,
While we forge footsteps, other schools fall behind,
because
One small step by them,
Is another giant leap for our kind.

Titanium does not orbit on its shelf,
The time to produce is never too soon,
If Boilers awaited change to make itself,
We wouldn’t have put a man on the moon.

Makers are unburned by slow logistics,
This cradle of creators shape an active nucleus,
We take off in the study of ballistics,
When what man never knew rises to creations new to us.

Flying to Mackey Arena and Ross-Ade
Are Boilermakers ready to toil like Purdue Pete,
Through Stadium Mall is the Gold and Black Parade,
Racing through the streets like the annual Grand Prix.

The Breakfast Club is a locomotive through Chauncey Hill,
Phi Kappa Tau and the Greeks of Lafayette
Drink enough for the future—when memories refill,
As the mothers of moments—we could never forget.

Like the traffic in the lines of Earhart,
This world has givers and it has takers,
There are Hoosiers sitting and afraid to start,
Then, thank God, there are Boilermakers.

New Boilers in the Gold Rush will find Old Gold,
Awaiting their creations in these malls of reverence…
Go on to fly to outer space and break the mold:
Make your way.
Make a name.
Make a difference.

From Alma Mater Vol. 1: The Midwest
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2014 Clyde Aidoo

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Posted in Poetry

University of Notre Dame Poem

Posted on July 8, 2024 by clydeaidoo — Leave a comment

Our Lady

As long as I live—I will fight for her name,
With my hand—Strong and True;
When I die, as my innards blacken,
My heart will stay Golden & Blue.

***

When you ask a kid growing up in Northern Indiana what he wants to be when he grows up, he’ll tell you, “A Fighting Irish.” And when you repeat this question
in any of our great 50 states…
a great many will tell you the same.

Honor & Tradition

The cornerstones of this sacred society that is upheld by the valiant who are blessed to wear these colors. Touched to wear the armor of fighters who do not rely on the luck of the Irish, but the fortune of the brave. In Notre Dame Stadium, you can hear the congregation rah “loyalty” with voices that echo for the football royalty; and before visitors may leave this holy house,
They Will Bow.

Notre Dame is Montana to Haines to come from behind and take the ’79 Cotton Bowl.

It is Tom Clements going 36 yards down the field to Robin Weber to take the 1973 Sugar Bowl.

It is The Four Horsemen.

It is remembering The Gipper.

It is the house that Rockne built.

It is 11 National Championships.

It is carrying Lou Holtz off the field in his final home game after a 62-0 send-off.

It is dreams coming true like Rudy Ruettiger’s.

It is the stars on the field who rule our world today,
&
The Irish in the stands who will
Rule the world tomorrow.

Bodies of influential entrepreneurs and business people.
It is an audience of divine minds and spirits that will touch this world…
And today
Reach down and move our soldiers with this righteous spirit.

And for 60 minutes we exalt these humble soldiers.

Glory be to the sons of she,
Who sing to her fame with bended knee.
These skies will never forget her name
&
Our foes will remember
Notre Dame.

Ever on the heels of legends, we march onward to victory…
&
When the road rises to meet our champions,
One voice rises with our decree:

Cheer, Cheer for old Notre Dame.

From Alma Mater Vol. 1: The Midwest
You can read the full four-volume Alma Mater collection here.
Copyright © 2014 Clyde Aidoo

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Posted in Poetry