Smith College Poem (Alma Mater Vol. 2: The Northeast)

*Smith College*

She sings a snaring song.
A song not to dance to,
But dedicated to gliding forward.

She sings a mind-altering song for
Those who were always told it is unsafe
To dive the waters.

She sings of writers and activists,
First Ladies and authors who
Chased the Wind…
Until in the new place she has now found:
Her name is read beyond this mailbox,
Proving she arrived &
She belongs.

She sings a song.

A song of Ivy Days radiating perennial blue
In the firmament of the North she resides.
A song rising like Delphinium Blue Birds
that echoes,
We are not flowers;
We are
The Earth.

A song shared with her six brilliant sisters
Whose sibling rivalries have pushed her off the stairs
Into the Illumination waiting in the night.

She sings her song
Without sorrow,
How sweetly it sounds
of tomorrow.

She sings to her sisters, the mothers, your daughters,
She sings to the world,
I have made it here,
On her own, that’s the song
Of a Pioneer.

You can find the link to the entire four-volume collection of Alma Mater below!

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Illinois Tech Poem (Alma Mater Vol. 1: The Midwest)

*Illinois Tech*

Next Stop:
35th-Bronzeville-IIT.
Doors Closing.

We are the Green Line that streamlines innovation with reputation—Opening worlds with a synergy driven by a mission and a vision. These lives in Chicago will be transformed by an international influence.
We can’t change the past,
But we can transfer it fast.
Providing our education with a raised destination on a platform with creative norms.

Our youth is a train that only fails when it is derailed.

We believe in recharging our minds with modernism and distinction, building on the wavelengths of our distinctive strengths. With the instinctive honing inventions like the first mobile phone.
Through IIT, we can pick up and still leave where we were;
Talking on your main line while switching to a Red Line:
Call it a Two-Way Transfer.
We have activated the minds of Martin Cooper, Valdas Adamkus, Jack Steinberger—international and local minds who through I-Tech did find:
We still have a long way to go,
but the journey begins
In Chicago.

Ideas exchanged over supper at the Commons,
At stimulating concerts from town artists like Common,
&
Inside the avant-garde MTCC:
The spectacular structure of IIT.
This is where we take off and go beyond the rails,
A mission with sincere ethics
Never Fails.

Our stop is the future.

A new train of motivated movers just stepped off,
New Scarlet Hawks now prepare to take off.

This is Illinois Institute of Technology.

Doors Open.

You can find the link to the entire four-volume collection of Alma Mater below!

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University of Iowa Poem (Alma Mater Vol. 1: The Midwest)

*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 the 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.

You can find the link to the entire four-volume collection of Alma Mater below!

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Notre Dame Poem (Alma Mater Vol. 1: The Midwest)

*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.

You can find the link to the entire four-volume collection of Alma Mater below!

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New Venture: Targeted Ideas

Starting up a new venture that’s virtually guaranteed to make no profit whatsoever …. ever!

Here’s a novel idea: maybe you don’t need credit or money for an idea to be a success.

I’m excited to start up a Twitter page that is about sharing ideas of all kinds. Most of the time ideas and comments will just be conversational, but I will also seek opportunities to target influencers who can actually bring ideas to life, and those people are a lot more accessible than you think. The ideas are based solely on logic and potential, not partisanship or ambition.

Ideas come in all forms. Sometimes they are self-help ideas, sometimes they are ideas that can make the world a better or more dynamic place. Those rewards are richer than money.

Here’s the page, just started today: https://twitter.com/TargetedIdeas

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Time is Love

Brilliant song theme. Time isn’t Money. Time is Love.

Sometimes it’s not about the money you’re missing, but the moments you’re missing.

Gotta go.

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The Sound of a Million Dreams

“And I labor for hours ’cause I know the power of a song
When a song hits you right
Poured my soul into stories of life
Hopin’ someone will hear one tonight.
Maybe my voice will cut through the noise
And stir up an old memory
And out of these piano keys
Comes the sound
The sound of a million dreams”

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Flaws

Flaws by Bastille

“When all of your flaws and all of my flaws
Are laid out one by one
The wonderful part of the mess that we made
We pick ourselves undone
All of your flaws and all of my flaws
They lie there hand in hand
Ones we’ve inherited, ones that we learned
They pass from man to man
There’s a hole in my soul
I can’t fill it, I can’t fill it
There’s a hole in my soul
Can you fill it? Can you fill it?
You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve
And I have always buried them deep beneath the ground
Dig them up; let’s finish what we’ve started
Dig them up, so nothing’s left untouched
All of your flaws and all of my flaws,
When they have been exhumed
We’ll see that we need them to be who we are
Without them we’d be doomed
There’s a hole in my soul
I can’t fill it, I can’t fill it
There’s a hole in my soul
Can you fill it? Can you fill it?
You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve
And I have always buried them deep beneath the ground
Dig them up; let’s finish what we’ve started
Dig them up, so nothing’s left untouched
Ooh
Ooh
When all of your flaws
And all of my flaws are counted
When all of your flaws
And all of my flaws are counted
You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve
And I have always buried them deep beneath the ground
Dig them up. Let’s finish what we’ve started
Dig them up. So nothing’s left untouched
Ooh
Ooh
All of your flaws and all of my flaws
Are laid out one by one
Look at the wonderful mess that we made
We pick ourselves undone”

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Ready to Go (Get Me Out of My Mind), Panic! At the Disco

She’s already running…so why not grab his hand while in motion like a baton and race towards life? In doing so, she pulls the speaker out from the forefront of his own mind, thus putting someone else in first place.

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University of Houston Poem (Alma Mater Vol. 4)

From Alma Mater Vol. 4: The South:

*University of Houston*

You are above the Williams Tower.
You are above the J.P. Morgan Chase Tower.
You see that flooring Houston skyline?
You are above it all.
Because you are the Energy Capital.
Were you unaware?
At U of H you’ll feel it,
and though
still unaware—you’ll still
reveal it.
Because you are the Art Cars of Clutch City…the Rockets in this space in-between the expedition through time.
You are more than the color of The Theater District,
You are the diverse makeup found nowhere else the entire region over that shows the beauty of H-Town;
and that such a foundation is never artificial.

&

You are who we are.

You are the making of someone’s favorite Frontier Fiesta carnival ride and the best part of their favorite song.
Just being yourself is the Greatest Performance…

Behold your audience affected.

Frontier your Red and White on Friday and every other day…
For you are as much a part of Houston’s art as every performer, painter, and
athlete who shows that sport is truly an art form:
Our champion golfers like Fred Couples, ball players like Drexler,
and just like the great Olajuwon, you will never want to leave
This great ride you’re on.
You, too, will want to stay in Houston, and you will
grow old as Cougars…
but whenever you lift your Paw, it shall
repeat with time,

I am young.

You can find the link to the entire four-volume collection below!

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