Princeton University Poem

*Princeton University*

Princetonians, delight! For history is on your side!
Princetonians, unite! Return for the annual P-rade!
The Princeton Reunions bring Tiger pride
Back to Nassau—our first building ever made
To gather for another joyous raid.

We will again take in the beauty
of architecture renowned, Romanesque, & modern;
The Gothic bricks and sculptured fury
Decorate this campus near flowers of auburn.
Let’s re-feel these fuels of creation that burn.

We sip the splendor of senses by the lake,
The sensory conception of Lake Carnegie,
Our skulls are Ovals without Points—unlimited for the sakes
Of refreshing for study, winning the Cane Spree,
And cruising Newman Day—on beer’s floating sea.

The Tigers eat and drink on The Street like animals,
Pillaging the Eating Clubs like a Hot Prospect,
Through all eleven houses—our packs ran the mill,
We ran life’s bill, but hadn’t felt the cost yet,
And lived what was priceless so now we’re all set.

Ready to remember those fond Princeton years,
Everywhere there’s a smile and never a scowl,
Elation in the dance of our gleeful cheers,
Loud as the sound of the Holder Howl
Before dates with the dean leading exam prowls.

Here’s to another reunion—don’t call it a comeback,
We never left Nassau or our Princeton days,
Other schools have assets but there’s always some lack
Of the same opportunities that Princeton paves;
Like our Financial Aid, the Princeton way pays.

The Princeton diploma means the highest degree
of achievement, wits, determination…
The Princeton alumni would all agree
That this is the land where we had our germination,
And our growth still defies—the dread of termination.

Princetonians are the course of history!
Endowing the embryo of American Football,
Carrying the best Department of History,
And a blazing bonfire on Cannon Green in the fall.
Let’s sing in this fire—Goin’ Back to Nassau.

The FitzRandolph Gate we left
During final ceremony—
Opens to every class present a represented breadth
Of Princetonian Pride still on territory,
With praised Ivy stones—in our memory.

Down Elm Drive is the Princeton locomotion!
The 25th Reunion is the steam in the front,
In groups of five the classes cause a commotion
On a train filled with beer jackets, costumes, love’s brunt,
And families all aboard—who ride the emotion.

Fireworks end the fun like a spring Lawn Party,
Our parties of five mix with all the Orange and Black,
Alums from the past have attended partly
For remembering, the rest for the large fact:
That attending Princeton means
You always come back:

Hip-Hip! Rah-Rah Rah! Tiger-Tiger-Tiger! Sis-Sis-Sis! Boom-Boom-Boom-Ah!
Yesterday!
Today!
Forever!

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University of New Hampshire Poem

*UNH*

In Wildcat Country, there’s only one way to live,
it’s the
Call—
of the wild.
Wild, Cats, Go Wild.
Blowing free—
Nor’easters of Force
Storming the White Mountains,
Snow-shoeing to winter’s peaks,
Skiing downhill &
Climbing the weeks.
Clawing the winds of time’s vortex,
thereby unleashing the
Perfect Storm.

New Hampshire has whiteouts that
are hazardous to visitors,
but they bring the home team to
their familiar destination. A place accustomed to winning,
and winners…
Winners who beat unfavorable conditions like Erin Whitten;
Wildcats like Bob Miller, Louis Frigon, and Dave Lumley
who slid On to Victory.
Whiting-out Whitt helps Black Bears who believed
they were on the road to victory
see that they are now stranded and out of luck,
and are reminded
just how much they suck.
And for Terriers who leave home believing
they will go through our house,
the road sign reads:

Sucks to B-U.

Your very existence is a penalty:
Skate, Skate, Skate, sit down, bitch,
Now check the final scoreboard:
You lost, lost, lost, like Blair Witch.

UNH is a blast of revolting degrees—
Winners of storms like the colonies,
A revolution on ice, a sea of parties,
Formed by the Cat Pack—ruffling speeds.

Breaking to the T-Hall lawn to
get in the groves,
in an altered setting for the classroom
as well as study.
This free space gives us the outlet
to feed off the energy of sources like
Solarfest;
to throw caution to the wind
and the fish on the ice.
Transferring the energy of being free to the
Wildcats on the rink,
Then charging in the school power hub,
The primary outlet called the MUB.

These spaces are reserved for all that is free.

UNH is forever known as Wildcat Country…
and in this country there is but only one law…

It is
Planted in this land with the flag—
Since the year 1776…
We still abide,
Live Free or Die.

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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Dartmouth University Poem

*Dartmouth*

Dartmouth is outdoors:
The vision & tenor
of the scene,
Calling our fair name—
The Big Green.

Dartmouth is the Lodge:
Our faithful lair
by the ravine,
In the virescence of sweet nature—
The Big Green.

She is the streak of green effuse,
We streak like the Greek without excuse,
The Ledyard Challenge we always defeat—
The winning streak.

We disrobe like Sigma Delta
to feel
The rush of the wind on skin—
Surreal,
A cascade of Beaver Brooks
We spill—
To the River.

On the Skiway our outing clubs brace—
for the mountains.
Then release to a vertical drop—
for the shiver.
We shape the snow and the goose bumps form
at Occom Pond—where the moose rumps form…
When the carnival of white is so adorned
By the Green.

Dartmouth is the Greek:
The letters and colors
on the edge;
Rewriting—what is partying—
They allege.

Dartmouth is the party,
Even our mascot reps a keg,
Its legacy we’ll honor by drinking its spring:
The Pledge.

Our springs have Pow-Wows closed with a Green Key,
Plus music, grills, and crazy hijinks,
We have Gammapalooza and Phi Delt’s drinks—
On the block—of the house.
While Alpha Delta turns the AD lawn…

Into an Animal House.

In the fall, each house loves to come home;
When every house clears
Because of the fire.
And yet another freshman class
is
Thrown in,
Sending it higher.

A bonfire elevating to a bond fire,
Building memories to heights
that will never expire…
&
Providing the light to every Dartmouth night.

With each lap around the fire,
We—and the crackles—
grow stronger…
And like Baker’s Bells, on this grass
They sing:
This is our Alma Mater,
This is
The Big Green.

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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Harvard University Poem

*Harvard University*

There will always be someone smarter.
There will always be someone stronger, someone faster.
There will always be someone who is hungrier.
There will always be someone more skilled.
There will always be someone, somewhere, who is better at the craft.
But there will never,
Ever
Be a school better than this.

Truth.

***

Fair Harvard! Let this house adopt the nation’s best,
Over ten thousand men and women of honors,
Sharing one color in the college crest,
Rising as a Crimson body of scholars.
This house has led presidents to the White House,
Heralding Prime Ministers and Nobel Laureates,
The leaders in business, politics, and science,
Began in the lather of the Mather House.
The gathering of minds never forgets:
The lasting value of the Harvard alliance.

Go Harvard! Let your Primal Scream be seen!
A streak of Harvard’s pride and joy exposed
In the library stacks and tonight as a team
On to exams where knowledge echoes.
Go Team! Prevail over Eli!
Win the Game, Relish victory!
Fight fiercely for our hallowed name,
In its carried strength—you can rely.
Our awaiting success was meant to be—
Since 1636 when our pedigree came.

Oh, Harvard, your years represent our growth,
From the country’s oldest house of higher learning,
Not just the oldest or truest, we’re both,
Yet in these halls, there remains a yearning
For something that joins greater than us all—
The continuance of the finest university tradition,
That as ancestors—we must see live.
On this elite establishment, we stand tall
As part of the awe with no part an omission;
In cohesive ramparts, every part must give.

Stand, Harvard! Let your contemplative eye be raised,
Make wells from the deep, yet untapped vessels,
Then let your streaming hard work be praised
By outsiders and inward—where the crimson nestles.
Take pride in this elusive achievement,
Millions have dreamed it, but We Are Here,
The chosen few that have walked Cambridge
With steps that survive after bereavement;
Showing our successors the coast is clear
To walk every hill, mountain, and ridge.

Fair Harvard! Let us be your royalty and knights,
We will carry the lineage of our ancestors
To another generation of majestic heights
With the ascending stock of past investors.
Like our fathers’ fathers and their mothers before,
You’ve helped us certify a great legacy.
Yes, Fair & Supreme Harvard,
We were born to forefather your lore,
We promise to keep this shared destiny,
Truth is our motto: That is our word.

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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Wellesley College Poem

*Wellesley College*

Sisterhood’s the cornerstone of Wellesley,
This fam’ makes the grade via A-listers,
Dear school by the lake, your beauty tells thee,
Each class a color, each soul with sisters.
Colors unite as white clouds to the Blue,
Wellesley sisters, your true colors suit you,
They Scream from Tunnels to tell your story,
Singing at Houghton helps yell your glory.
A center world-figures have called their home,
Clinton, Sawyer, and Dahl are professors
of Wellesley’s guidance from great professors
Who’ve led Wellesley to a league of its own:
Where women aren’t ministered unto,
They edify the world they leap onto.

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

Smith College Poem

*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
Went With 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.

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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Boston University Poem

*BU*

(Set to the Melody of “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond)

It begins in the fall,
That’s when we fall for it all,
Oh BU−How we love you.
The Gah-dens of spring,
And Fenway Park of summer,
Is where the love comes shining through.

Souls
Joining souls,
Singing out
Touching meee
Tou-ching youuuuuu

Sweet Red & White! (OH, OH, OH!)
These times always feel so good (So Good, So Good, So Good!)
Oh, what a site! (OH, OH, OH!)
Leave Beantown I never could,

And
Now
I’m

In Agganis,
The Dog Pound is never lonely,
This is where we claim our fate.
The Beanpot is won,
And as Boston’s Champions—
The Terriers
Choose to Be Great.

Song
Forming Songs,
Reaching out
Touching meeee
Tou-ching youuuuuuu

Sweet Red & White! (OH, OH, OH!)
These times always feel so good (So Good, So Good, So Good!)
Oh, what a site! (OH, OH, OH!)
Leave Beantown I never could,

And
How
We

Wear it so loud.
The colors of Boston are here:
The school, the parks, they’re everywhere.
Red & White shirts.
We even have white with Red Sox
In harmony with our BU.

Oh,
Souls
Joining souls,
Singing out
Touching meee
Tou-ching youuuuuuuuu

Sweet Red & White! (OH, OH, OH!)
This blend never looked so good (So Good, So Good, So Good!)
Oh, what a site! (OH, OH, OH!)
Leave Beantown I never could.

Sweet Red & White (OH, OH, OH!)
Each time always feels so good (So Good, So Good, So Good!)
Sweet Red & White (OH, OH, OH!)
Forget these nights I never could.

Sweet Red & White…

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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Clark University Poem

*Clark University*

We have graduated to the next level,
A stage beveled for the secondary,
Challenge Convention as a competitive rebel,
LEEP into the world and out the ordinary.
Reform high schools with collaborative gifts,
Rise above the grounds of the sedentary,
When Clarkies LEEP, the impact lifts
The world itself to creative cliffs.

Passion drives the force in Jonas Clark Hall,
And how it scatters—on the Campus Green,
It’s as driven as the first snowfall,
Throughout this town—the passion’s seen.
Found at Spree Day when Clarkies jubilate,
Enjoying time off with passionate glee,
Passion drives the world, Clarkies can relate,
As conductors of world movements: Clarkies operate.

Stepping up for Daybreak in the yearly Stair-A-Thon,
Our service, like Spree Day, is an ill-kept secret,
At the Red Square we fill up the polygon,
A community giving hope—for those who seek it.
Like a broke vagabond, we are hungry for change,
We don’t wait for change, we decide to be it,
Challenging Convention with ideas that exchange
In return for a world that is fixed to rearrange.

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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UMass Lowell Poem

*UMass*

A new day is upon us
in higher education,
and UML is on the rise.

Dawning the Industrial Revolution,
Lowell is known for manufacturing its own distinct place.
And UML has produced new programs like Plastics Engineering
to process an annually increasing number of craftsmen in transition.
The graduation rate is also rising to record highs,
with Hawks who’ve expanded in the renovated buildings on
campus that have been completed,
but continue to facilitate rise.

As the home of the center for Major League Baseball testing,
We model the blast that heads out of the park,
UML is on the rise.
And with a steady team climbing the Hockey East,
It is broken by reporters what was known by supporters,
Yes,
UML is on the rise.

With one of the best Sound Recording Technology
Programs in the country, UML is rising above
the sound barriers
with a noise
for the country to hear—calling all high-school seniors here.
Because what begins as testing in the Baseball Research Center and music studios
is morphed into the perfect pitch
that lifts in the air as a signal from the catchers at the plate—
Waving cautious seniors to take off
&
share this upheaval of song,
Where River Hawks still
Fly out the park…Lowell shall assist your embark;
Come on, Come on home.

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

WPI Poem

*WPI*

There are projects underway at Worcester.
A working class that pumps innovation
to outlands deprived of irrigation.
With technology and practice, our
theory holds that any land can generate new life.
But for the world to behold something new,
the creator must settle into the unknown.
Into buried places, past the gateways of yesterday,
Designing this world into creative play stations,
Jumping the boxes with the X that read,
“Do not cross.”
If we are living in a grand creation,
Then we are the gamers.
Those who press on and won’t be trapped.
Testers of the defects of their imagination,
and code destroyers who
Will Not Stop
Until we have reached the next level.

Our projects run on the drive of meeting challenges
Anywhere:
Thailand.
Morocco.
China.
Australia.
Namibia.
Worcester.

We develop Beech Trees in interdisciplinary fields,
and take control of the wires that plug the
purged revolution to the created program.
Through practice and input, where everybody plays a role,
We can connect the real world with our
working class,
releasing what goes beyond the simulated:
Ideas remaining in motion,
until they’ve come to
Life.

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