Tag Archives: #writers

HISTORY OF HARVARD YARD

Okay. So, according to her license plate, Sarah had something to do with the name “Welbeck Street” and had once asked if the Journal would consider using “Harvard Yard” in her name. Also according to her license plate, she thought “Kiss Me, Kate” was a rock opera. She had also attended a March For Women’s Lives march, in support of women’s rights. In addition, she was a “runner” for Congress in Rhode Island (taken from her license plate).

It appears that the name of “Harvard Yard” has been a veritable wasteland of wretchedness since Ms. Welbeck left it behind at the end of 1995.

*1922-26 – The Lawn, as it’s called today, was a street in the middle of Harvard Square. There were multiple houses on the street, but they were all a part of one big household. Each family had a public area where it would have been considered perfectly normal for an unmarried young person to entertain his or her lover in the middle of the day (old enough to drink, but not quite legal, yet – at least, not without the consent of the parents!).

*1926 – Thanks to the NCAA and the advice of a number of justices on the United States Supreme Court, the Alumni Association at Harvard established the legendary wooden bleachers that are scattered around the Yard today. The wood of the bleachers came from a ship that was wrecked by a hurricane off the coast of Haiti. A “founding father” of the bleachers was Charles John Porter, a Harvard College graduate who founded the C.J. Porter Company. At the time, Porter was probably the only one in the country with the ability to make the bleachers – and he did.

*1926 – The Eynsford Castle, as it is known today, was built at the corner of Bay State Road and Alford Avenue. Built in the midst of a terrible economic depression, it was and still is one of the most historic sites in all of Cambridge, if not all of New England. The building was originally part of the Parish of the Holy Family. According to legend, George Eliot (the author of Middlemarch) used to sneak her lover around to the Castle. Today, the Castle hosts weekly showings of “Mutiny On The Bounty.”

*1942 – The Cambridge City Council established a curfew in Cambridge for all students staying over on campus. The curfew at that time went from midnight to 6 a.m. Students would be permitted to leave campus during curfew, but they had to check in at a designated place where they would have to walk through the gauntlet of city watchmen. The Code was enforced strictly – there were only six or seven students who were able to escape the curfew enforcement.

*1949 – The mansion on the corner of Knollwood Street and Fairfield Avenue was demolished and was replaced by a four-story building (known as “West Grove”). It is the site of a fraternity called “Zeta Psi.”

*1954 – The Deeming Act passed. It extended voting rights to African Americans for the first time. This law was carried out by the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People and was vehemently opposed by every single member of the Harvard administration. Cambridge was in a state of uproar as some students took to the streets in protest of the law. Mayor Ray Flynn, who, at the time, was a professor at the Harvard Medical School, held a meeting with the police commissioner, president of Harvard, and Dean of the Faculty of Arts and Sciences. Together, they decided that Harvard would defy the law, but would send all its students home for the weekend so that the situation would not be nearly as tense as it would have been had all students stayed on campus. (It’s possible that Flynn was the only official at Harvard who could read English, though.) The weekend was the most peaceful in recent memory at Harvard.

:: 01.16.2021 ::


SOONER OR LATER THE DISEASE WILL SPREAD

Hey, hey, hey, hey!
The biggest market is pacifiers
You know what goes in pacifiers?
Another mouth to feed.
A vagina to suck!

I went to the market and said, ‘Hell, no!
‘Give me an organic glue
“If only we had time we would have inserted a fucking hole
in my balls. I could have given her diabetes.
Yeah, I could have forced her to eat cheese!
That smells like my wife’s pussy”
No (i have no wife! no!!!!!!)
Going back to nature is not just about foraging:
You have to stop
You have to let go
You have to give up
You have to ask, ‘How can I have this?
I don’t know about water.
I’ve always had a problem with water
And everyone refuses to feed Love.
Life so full of secrets. Then again,
something about water.

You’re searching for more than
What I have. Because something’s got to be
better than this!

Nothing is better than this.

When it’s time to give up, to move on
and to let go; to get to the next level
it’s a little later in the day. Hey.
I’m off to find water. I don’t know where it is
but it’s there.

This island is in trouble: our government is out of control
and sooner or later the disease will spread.

It will kill us all!
In my arms I cradle a gun
It is mine and only mine.
I need a drop to survive
If only I can find a vein
My mouth is watering
with the sweet relief
of Love’s heroin.

But it is not enough. My heart is racing like a fish on a line.

I have to leave but I cannot. My fingers are shaking
my veins are dry.
I need a drop to survive
I need a drop to survive
And the worst of it is I don’t know where it is.
But it is there.

I don’t know how to find it
I’m looking for water or Love?!?

Ohh
Ohh

I’m looking for water
Ohh Ohh
Water!

Ohh

I need a drop to survive

:: 12.23.2020 ::


FOURTEEN

i wish I had more time and opportunity to explain my disgust to your rust-stained sarcophagus. To offer a calm palate of meditative colors for our feelings (why not) — you seemed so surprised to be called from a glass prison.

Oh, blessed crystal, what do I have to do to kiss your hand with a succulent kiss for you have forgotten the grain of truth to your rust-stained sarcophagus!

To offer a calm palate of meditative colors for our feelings (why not) — you seemed so surprised to be called from a glass prison.

Oh, blessed crystal, what do I have to do to kiss your hand with a succulent kiss for you have forgotten the grain of truth and your heart could only love the person who feeds it for nourishment — is a difficult task; so you resorted to Cupid’s slingshot!
But here’s an alternative: follow my heart down the garden path, until my sticky feet block the entrance of Cupid’s grave.

Here — get me the jar of colorful paint and I will show you the
sparkle of love.

Here — get me the fork and I will show you the flavor of our love
that came from one man.

Here — get me the ball and I will smash it across my canvas of life.
Here — get me the pencil and I will draw you a gentle, tender picture.
Here — get me the jar of colorful paint and I will show you the
sparkle of love.
Here — get me the fork and I will show you the flavor of our love
that came from one man.
Here — get me the ball and I will smash it across my canvas of life.
Here — get me the pencil and I will draw you a gentle, tender picture.
Here — get me the paint bucket and I will lay it on a canvas of life

It was exactly 14 days since you told me you left the store early.
14 dreary days and I do not think you’ve been here once (not that I
would blame you for believing it).

14 days since I was mean to you, and then you said you’d be back
by 14.

:: 12.24.2020 ::


REFLECTION OF LOVE

As my sensational sensual moments bleed away and are no more seen by the vilest minds
my face deep within the riches of Earth’s soil away from unthought wars!
Unburdened by high wilt of human rine–
as pure Love has championed over darkly love.

And smallest voices as new born children spiritually cries of Spring keeping new born
butterflies afloat, is where Love strives
as droll god-beasts!

Such is the dance of perception as a reflection
through a prism; or early morning dew drop.

Time that not be for us — as purple roses
are sweeter to the but for me: deeper!

:: 12.21.2020 ::


RAINDROPS NEED SUNBEAMS

Like winnable wars like broken hearts
feeling there’s no living gods
Like a poem that is out of reach
that no ink can write — i feel you.
While dreaming hope like a smile of love
without a lover a little foot step
without impossible dreams
there’s no unbeatable odds.

Shall I say it again?

With dreams there’s no
invisible walls and i sing,

“I just want you”

There is no Juliet without
Romeo, there are no thrills
without incurable life.
and I just want you
and I just want you
And how are you?

There are no in-crimeable crimes
no reason or rhymes why we lock
doors between living and life.

If there’s an Alpha I say
oh me again (omega) possible
dreams and I just want you

i just want you i just want you
how i dream fall-smiles
within your soul dear

Are all the beautiful flowers of your soul!

:: 10142015 ::
rev: 11.10.2020


I AM DUMB AND I AM WEAK

WITHIN the heat of night i see my moon shadow
within this night yes so if i ever say
i ever denied love only because i am weak
and i see you and i know how colors paint
life & how broken hearts weep for more tomorrows
And dear : i lost my mind and my mouth | i see how
seeds grow into frail flowers
/so i see my shadow \ even in sunlight —
so i am dumb and i am weak and so
human. So if within the heat
of night i see my moon shadow
within this night yes / i lost my mind
and forgot the spectrum of colors because
i lost your love. So sun shadows i burn
looking at your light and wish i could be
so much as you my brilliant sun and my mouth
and my teeth and heart and my soul weeps
tearings looking at the moon shadow.

:: 08.12.2020 ::


ROOTS & NERVES

roots and nerves
move dirt
boots and struts
make us
a brilliant nightmare
of sherbet lip-tasting
tears of a broken one
who knows any ‘thing’
but that ‘thing’ we find
killing us all slowly.

:: 07.23.2020 ::


BETWEEN LIVES & THOUGHTS

between thoughts
such depth
my heart sank
–today.
The widow of Souls
now am i –? or
a mirage of god’s
weaker image?
this does NEVER
matter within my
own heart; i am
any-and-everything
i wish to be.

& MORE!

:: 07.22.2020 ::


TOO MANY EYES?

     IF there are too
many Eyes: * *
   * wreck yourself
   * be an angel
(or stick around, like
balloons and furniture
for a day)
     tell the grandchildren
how you defended the State
     o f YOUR MIND.

:: 07142020 ::


THIS POET WROTE:

THIS POET WROTE:
while leaves march down an empty alleysuddenly she is barely holding upon the blue skies /of punch red-blue\of a galant southern magnolia sweetand fresh of a sudden burning smellfruit for the fallen souls are we forever together.
far so for father trick of mind/here is a Strange Tale\upon his tomb stone. this POET WROTE
:: 07.13.2020 ::