University of Pennsylvania Poem

*Penn*

“Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.”
— Benjamin Franklin

For over 270 years,
Penn has left its mark.

***

Laws without morals are in vain.
The pursuit of happiness begins with the freedom to earn it.
Our country’s constitutional laws ensure that all the deserving go to the Penn
where the institution’s stripes are worn by the stars who paved their own way.
Time to Shine.
Making History.
Injecting college with its first medical school, and like our forefathers in Independence Hall:
We endorsed the first union.
Where students meet in mergers of the CEOs and entrepreneurs that the great business minds of 1881 envisioned in their meeting room that has grown into the classrooms of Wharton.
Any successful businessman will tell you, even more than risk and profit,
It is belief that pays.
And since 1881, Penn’s belief in the next generation has led to the most stable business program of any university for every subsequent class to inherit. So that in four years when Quakers go out of Business,
They are ready for a Boom
that fires up the sky like the bombs of July.

Their development began here in America’s birthplace…

Where the locals reinvent the pub crawl with the Philly Grub Crawl,
Then go running up The Steps like Balboa—pre-brawl,
To discover the stature of Philadelphia’s art,
It is the UPenn canvas many flights got their start,
The first round was at the crack of the Bell,
It sounded with freedom to give ambition the gale
To turn corners in nursing and engineering,
Programs of music that appeal:
So they deserve another hearing.
We have The Penn Band, The Mask & Wig, and Glee Club,
With the oldest literary society built on brotherly love,
Together we walked through these trees in the harshest degrees,
As young locusts who’re now set to take leads,
We have moved up on these runs through Penn Town,
We rest developed & prepared,
Gonna Fly Now.

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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New York University Poem

*NYU*

We made it.

Onto the Row of Greek Revival road houses in the Village of
The Capital of the World.
New York City, we love you…

But we are so ready to take you on.

It is found by tourists of the soul that
Love is its own most formidable challenge.
And with inspirations of MacDougal Street,
Washington Park, and the culture of Manhattan,
We are ready to go to war.

The students of NYU are here to join the melting pot of those who have not only survived the war that has felled so many disillusioned causalities, but who helped build this fire. A fire akin to that of the brave men who stepped forward on 9/11 and of all the artists who have continued to form the composition of this city…
Spike Lee-Charles Flint-Woody Allen-Adam Sandler-Don Hewitt-Billy Crystal-Scorsese-Hathaway-Yuri Gitman-Salinger-Warren Adler-Edgar Allen-Allen Ginsberg-Angelina-Ang Lee-Bob Dylan-Lady Gaga-Russell Simmons-Jerry Seinfeld-Shawn Carter-Alec Baldwin-Bob De Niro-Larry David-Billy Joel:
They didn’t start the fire…
But they helped instill it in every New Yorker, new and old…
The desire to see this city thrive;
Along with the sparks they have each contributed to the empyrean flame.

This is where opportunities are given to young interns until it’s their turn to help the fire burn.
Where risk-takers find the most gain, and those we’ve lost, we
Never Forget.

New York University is where the art of the apple is not still life, but the core of its non-stop bustle.
Where arts and science Perseveres and Excels…for the movements of non-conformity never sells,
It only tells.
It tells of the reality that honesty can create,
&
No criticism can deconstruct.

New York University is where a valve of Violet merges with the Pierian Spring, and the bared portrait of each class can drink in the musings of their reflections.
This is the city of The Five Boroughs. The city of chance, survivors, skyscrapers, and fighters.
And when we return back to the Square
for the final ceremony,
We will look in the loving eyes of family and friends, and stand with the great alumni of this university,
Each staring at the masterpiece of the Big Apple,
Then amazed—we will claim it:

We made it.

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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University of Albany Poem

*UAlbany*

At the start of a new school year,
New names become Great Danes and
are celebrated with a grand lighting ceremony
capped off with spectacular fireworks. It is apropos for these thousands who will go on to hold a candle for the remarkable post-modernist architecture found on Uptown Campus, the moving spirit of homecoming, the Empire State Plaza downtown, and life in the quads. This crowd will go on to attend festivals of state-wide unity like LarkFEST, games in The RACC, and in four years—their own graduation.

With these candles, Danes will take this heat
And turn up like an oven knob,
Watch as UAlbany Burns & Burns
With fires hence set by the crazy mob.

***

We Turnt Up,
We Turnt Up,
Burn the wax on both ends
Before time’s burnt up.
We Turnt Up,
We Turnt Up,
&
We don’t want this shit to end,
Albany Stand Up.

We Turnt Up, all-the-way—
Turnt Up,
Halloween—
We Turnt Up,
UAlbany—
Turned Up.
October 31st—it’s time to fuckin’ parrrty,
No dress code, Danes, welcome to da parrrty.
Dresses half off
like a fuckin’ barrrgain,
Free space on all sides—
That’s a fuckin’ marrrgin.
Costumes out,
There go a French maid,
Skip a French kiss,
We gettin’ French laid.
Voo Lay Voo Koo Shay…
Cut off—by the pass,
Admission’s co-ed nude,
Fa-Fa-Fa-Free at last.
And when it turns spring,
we meet up
At the Fountain…
Coolest
College
Day
Ever,
The motherfuckin’
Fountain.
Beach balls,
Yup.
Booze Waterfalls,
Yup.
Near Nudity,
Yup.
Crowd Surfin’,
Yup.
Drenched in fun,
Yup,
Soaked in the sun,
Yup.
Party School—
Albany Come Stand Up.

We Turnt Up,
We Turnt Up,
Burn the wax on both ends
Before time’s burnt up.
We Turnt Up,
We Turnt Up,
&
We don’t want this shit to end,
Albany Stand Up.

They broke up Kegs n’ Eggs,
They said it cracked too hard,
Accused of parties on ‘roids,
These streets we ran too hard,
Take away the Fountain—that’s a yellow flag,
They diced up Kegs n’ Eggs—that’s called a “hash tag.”
Some say these parties damage names, well
We don’t give a damn,
Some say our party rep is damaged, hell
We don’t give a damn;
We set like Joan Jett—
Nah we don’t give a damn…
cuz
♫We don’t wear shame, we rock Bob Ford,
Party numbers don’t lie, check the scoreboard♫
The parties never wrap—that’s why we fuckin’ rock,
Hudson house parties: They go around the block.
Thursdays we go to Dub-T’s for the Jumbo Wings,
Bucket Thursdays—washing down the “Wing Dings.”
At the Abbott, Great Danes always gettin’ dirty,
Like an attic, Great Danes always gettin’ dirty.
Fridays is Bogie’s or Lark Street for some live mu-sic,
We got them Earth Tones blowin’ up that live mu-sic,
The music never wraps— that’s why we fuckin’ rock,
FallFest, Parkfest—You know it’s time to rock.
At Parkfest, Danes, you better come to rock.
Saturdays—at Dub-T’s—we right back,
Gold and Purple hit the streets…like “take that,”
We throw them parties that catch us a lot of flack,
We on that Schwarzenegger—
We don’t know how to act.

We Turnt Up,
(what!)
We Turnt Up,
(what!)
Burn the wax on both ends
Before time’s burnt up.
We Turnt Up,
(what!)
We Turnt Up,
(what!)
&
We hope this never ends,
Albany Stand Up.

We Turned Up,
These credits—
We earned up,
Commencement Weekend—
Party’s over
&
Time’s up.
We light these candles going back to where it started,
Reflecting back on the fire this class started,
A ceremony where the seniors pass the torch—
To the next class, this scene’s now yours to scorch.

But man,
We turned up,
We turned up,
Burnt the wax on both ends
And now the time’s up.
We turned up,
We turned up,
&
As we walk into the end,
Albany Stand Up.

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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The New School Poem

*The New School*

It’s a school of punks disturbing the order,
sticking buds to the establishment and sounding off
not to fight no power, but to mix it up and reverse and make
the glaring world spin from the tailors of turntables. Streetcars
of
Desire with souped-up kicks stepping into the flux, Following the Beats.
Following the Beats into this new generation, regenerating a new genesis
of The Fugitive Kind. Sweet Birds of Youth making expressions like an artist at work
with impressions on the design of the face of the hollow times.
Narwhals are a species
that
migrate.
Walking off the district runway and making over the grid.
It’s the cats in Double RLs with the Carolina Wash and classic aviators;
girls wearing Donna Karan with the hip-slung belts,
Vita dresses in the spring.
It’s rockin’ the just-released Sarah Phillips as this studio releases a new line of designers.
Because
before New York was in Marc Jacobs, Tom Ford, Alexander Wang, and Narciso Rodriguez,
They were all in Parsons.

In the rooms of Parsons, changing never goes out of style.

This here is the fit for more internationals than anywhere else. These ain’t tourists. These are the new photographers of New York, taking in Manhattan with the most powerful lens and snapping off with a deep focus.
It’s where the avant-garde meets the future and says, “How have you been?”
and the future continues to respond,
“Young gun, what are you up to?”
This joint is Not about Nightingales,
it’s about the Sweet Bird whose vernal voice begins a new day
of fashion…
A makeover of the laid-out schemes
in a takeover of the business with genius in seams.
Playing with creative excess with no
delaying or any recess.
These shows present
The Evidence of Things Not Seen,
Cover models of vantage points with
a whole new look.
The who’s who is at the Fusion Fashion Show,
to see the reveal of another Runway Project…
The show started in 1919,
and these models are still reppin’ out

The New School.

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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Adelphi University Poem

*Adelphi University*

The truth is,
These Panthers were born to live in this Garden.
Where they claw not to survive, but to live.
Living four stories high with barrels of fire tossed down
from the top of its escape onto the streets—
Blazing a line for Olympic athletes like Mel Pender to run,
and trailing behind was a nation of global learners in a LGS program
on a campus represented by over 60 countries.
Adelphi has Panthers co-habiting inside warm residence halls,
and in dynamic dwellings such as Manhattan lofts and apartments.
♫Five-Hundred-Twenty-Five-Thousand-
Six-Hundred
Mi-nutes♫
Is the commitment on the lease,
but New York artists demand a big release.
The sky is opening before us,
and these balloons
released by Ruth St. Denis are going wherever the wind takes them,
as long as it’s upward.
Dancers who tap into Broadway, even if they never make its doors.
Panthers, this Garden will allow you to develop;
&
In they shall pour to watch you produce.

Stage light,
May you beam down,
revealing these souls.

As the viewers sit in wooden chairs motorized,
with the human capacity for expanse mobilized.

Evicted!
These quarters can hold you no more:
Artist. Be Free.

Opening night, Adelphi students can live an experience,
and share
Rent free.
Adelphi is 525,600 minutes stacked four stories high,
&
Every time Panthers move,
they pack
the room with energy.

With the first university-based clinical psychology school,
Adelphi has shown those who currently disbelieve,
that they, too, can dance. And that the rhythm
of a Panther’s potential carries no coda.
This truth is found in the performance space of
Adelphi University,
where as a Panther you are already set,
now let
The truth
be you free.

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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Binghamton University Poem

*Binghamton University*

Hunting season begins in the fall.

Bearcats retreat from the den of the commonplace
into a public
university that stands amongst the premiere of
the Northeast.
They reach Binghamton’s rolling hills then
step out and enter the natural woodland where
the silver maples soak in a yellow glow
and the bucks repose by the sunlit pond.
The foliage mirrors the verdure of the campus,
and in the migrations through the woods,
the serenity of autumn
is captured.

When winter passes with the tracks of snow,
and the salamander braces to cross the road,
Bearcats reemerge to stomp out winter’s coat,
and Fling right into the Spring.
Accompanied by live bands and provided with nutrition,
The Bearcats are well sustained to begin their crawl.
As snapshots are taken in the preserve of the
Black-capped chickadee and Northern Crescent,
The Bearcats are
Crawling all through State,
when
the night
is captured.

At spring’s end as the green frogs
are heard calling from the bridge,
and there is nothing but Peace
on the Quad,
The Bearcats return to their den—
often located miles away.
Many Bearcats will return the
next fall, to carry on and hunt again,
while other Bearcats retire into the summer.

These Bearcats go on to make
their own industrial space,
decorating their walls
with the glory days.
When visitors and associates enter the den,
They observe a piece of the Green life
hanging up as the remnants
of the hunt, with its words telling
the viewer
What has been conquered,
but
cannot
be captured.

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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United States Military Academy Poem

*United States Military Academy*

In Cadence!

They missed duty & now they’re missin’
(They missed duty & now they’re missin’)
They left, left, left
(They left, left, left)
West Point only keeps the best
(West Point only keeps the best)
You’re what’s left, left, left
(Left, Right-On Left)

Honor is the code we live
(Honor is the code we live)
Damn right, right, right
(Damn right, right, right)
What way do we honor The Point?
(What way do we honor The Point?)
We fight, fight, fight
(Damn right, right, right)

Attack the Navy, rack the score
(Attack the Navy, rack the score)
Take them on punishment tours
(Take them on punishment tours)
Roll on Brave Old Army Team
(Roll on Brave Old Army Team)
As your country’s Pride and Dream
(As this country’s Pride and Dream)
Cadets who have served the time
(Cadets who have served the time)
Fall into the Long Gray Line
(Fall into the Long Gray Line)
SOUND OFF!
1-2!
SOUND OFF!
3-4!
Break it on down now!
(1-2-3-4-1-2…3-4!)

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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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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Posted in Poetry