To Oxford

Off he goes again to who knows where:
the man of the hour just takes off
when you least expect him to,
just when you thought he'd stay on
& endure another weekend of drudgery...
No, he says, not this man: Once outside
the city limits his heart is free to drift,
free to move on its own volition
& no one, repeating, no one can keep
our hero, dreamy blue eyes & all,
from seeing the world like none other.

Today, he's taking Highway 27 the whole way
down to the Mother of Fraternities,
a place where he feels right at home
knowing that this city gave birth to
an awesome organization
whose power is undeniably strong, even to
this very day. But wait, that's not the
only reason for why he arrived in town -
his favorite sisterhood of all time
began its life here & even now is
still having more fun than most duders
ever will (giggling in the background).
He knows that things are truly going his way
for once & before he finally sets foot
in Oxford our man of the hour
already knows the places he's planning
to visit, the sights he wants to see.


If there was any place he'd recommend
that duders go see, it'd be over on East Church,
right close to campus. History was made
at that house, history was written there,
history still resounds inside that
red-brick building. And love lives on still
within this house's walls, undeniable.


Six women, facing adversity & resistance
because they wanted to create the first sisterhood
on campus, soldiered on, never backed down
from the challenges which they faced,
from the obstacles the male populace
had the audacity to put in their path.
Their dream would not remain a dream alone,
but a reality which they made good on
in late October 1902. Even today,
this sisterhood has found ways to endure
despite the odds, the changing of times.


And here he stands: at the heart of it all,
there is always a place one can call home,
where one can find a common ground,
a common vision, a common language
to share & he found it right here.
The state line's only a few minutes
up the road (make that a hop & a skip away)
& once past West College Corner
it's easy to forget that you're not in Ohio
anymore, that you crossed back over
into territory where you can't speak
the language much less put it into translation
for others to read later on
should they plan to visit here.
Our hero says it best: Welcome to Oxford,
a few minutes away from anywhere,
birthplace of three brotherhoods & one sisterhood.

Time to take in the sights & sounds
when one still can, our main man says,
because this town has plenty to offer.
Oh, & stop by the place I told you about,
earlier on, somewhere on East Church,
or set up an appointment for a visit sometime.
Wait, another landmark is near the public square
on High Street - go check it on out too.
I'm living life & living well over here
this weekend; after you're through visiting
this city, you'll be echoing my sentiments.
I'm free to see the world like none other,
& nothing can keep me in line for long -
what better way to prove this than a good ol'
scenic drive down south
to the Mother of Fraternities,
to the birthplace of true Sisterhood,
where one can rally round the rose & green.

Tomorrow's Story Not The Same

"So this is goodbye? Is this really a farewell?"
After four years or so of living life
without limitations or hindrances
the end of the road awaits us,
the end of our journey almost near.

Or so it seems. Life for us hasn't ended;
it's just begun.

This is only a prelude of things to come,
when we realize that change has taken hold,
this time for good. What looks like
an ending is only an introduction,
the start of a new chapter in our lives.
It's time to get going, time to forge ahead
& never look back.

But sometimes we must look back,
we must return home every now & then:
never can we forget our roots,
where we came from, who we
truly represented. We still
have strong ties to this place,
even after these four, five years of
living life here are over & done.

It is time for lots of well wishing,
assurances & encouragement, this much
is true. The stories we'll be sharing
later on will not be the same
as the stories we reeled off to one another
back here, after all those late nights
of living it up, carousing...
It is time for remembrance
as much as it is time for letting go.

Tomorrow the real world welcomes us.
A new chapter in our lives will soon begin;
the rest of our story is still in progress.

This isn't goodbye & this is not farewell:
It is saying hello all over again.

Hermandad

Sisterhood: For some
of my life the greatest joys,
what brought my heart
the most lasting satisfaction
have been spent supporting
in the colors & letters of
my longtime choice.

I wouldn't have wanted
this life to be lived differently:
thank heavens I took my stand
while I was ahead,
not during my final college days.
Otherwise, my love wouldn't be
as strong as it has now become.

For me, sisterhood
is supporting a common cause,
supporting others who share
the same common visions, goals,
hopes, laughter, tears, & dreams as me.
Most of all, sisterhood is love.

Sisterhood has given me the courage
to give back to the community
of which I still am part.
Without the first love of my life
leading the way, helping me along,
I would not have become
the selfless & faithful giver
whom I am now.

Sisterhood is love as much as it is
life: To speak the truth, it's both
of the above. Doing the little things
to bring joy to the lives of others,
to make them smile, to give hope,
encouragement when it is needed.
Living steadfastly along the lines of
her founders. Leading. Serving.
Loving. Learning. Sisterhood is
about lessons learned, the lessons
yet to be learned over time.

Sisterhood is a word - a message, in fact -
which deserves the respect it is due,
for always.

Sisterhood is lifelong. It is a journey,
not a destination. It is finding a friendship
that will always find ways to endure,
remain treasured.

For me, sisterhood is everything
I hoped it would be & so much more:
sisterhood is love without ending,
love that has left its impact
on my sleeve & on the very heart of me.

After The Fire

The smoke of Saturday has finally
cleared at last. Now the only things
left standing in the aftermath
are those pictures, those memoirs
of what took place the night before.

Yet that fire keeps on, refuses
to die down to the last flame.
It still burns on fervently as if
to say that this love was never
meant to end, never will.

After today, this love won't end.
It'll still remain aflame long after
the music has stopped playing,
long after we decided to call it
a day & stopped dancing.

We can't forget it. Even now,
this new chapter of history
which we wrote last night
refuses to be overlooked,
brushed aside.

This fire, no doubt, is
keeping on as it always must.
There is no denying
such a simple truth
as this. Love burns on still.

Album

Finally our hero has found himself
a memento & a keepsake of a lifetime:
bracing that fragile item in his hands
with caution, with extreme care
he knows his latest buy has a history
that is not to be taken lightly,
that the record he is holding
is meant for playing at full volume
& nothing more than this.

He's in love with those old
phonograph records right down to the scent
of the cover: not time, dust,
nor the elements can keep him away
from that cherished vinyl for long.
But that love takes on
an unbridled life of its own the very instant
he carefully pulls that black vinyl
from the sleeve in which its encased,
heads over to the record player,
& places the needle on the track of his choice.
The sound of crackling vinyl spinning round
at 33 rpm is pure bliss, pure joy
he cannot conceal from his roomies
or his closest friends: music is his life,
it seems, & the record collection is where
his heart always can be located -
even if he's rummaging through the bargain bin
for something noteworthy to blast out
on his antiquated stereo later on.
No denying: he loves his music
& his music responds in kind;
on a day like today such love never fails
to strike resounding chords in his heart.

Today he has once more found
a part of his life which he thought was lost,
something worth cherishing
from the first notes on to the very end.

Thursday Afternoon

For some,
the weekend begins today,
not tomorrow
or the day after that.

When night falls,
casts its shadow over the city,
life truly begins
to feel like living.

No need to think
about how lousy the past
few days were.
Not here & not now,

because time flies
when fun & good times
are nowhere in evidence.
Forget the past week

& let go, just let go.
The weekend for some
starts now, not later
or when they want it to.

It's true. Now is that time,
today is that day for us to
live life we couldn't live
from Sunday through Thursday.

When night falls: This is when
we find our time to shine
most brightly, to speak
a common language for once -

You'll find it in a bottle of Skol,
Jack, Captain Morgan,
a case of 'Stones. No matter
where you are

& no matter where that language
originated you'll find
lots of cause for celebration,
for living life all over again.

Believe me, because soon
the real world awaits
& the time for celebrating then
will be uncertain, if not

less often. So live it up
while there's still time:
the weekend as always
begins today, this afternoon.

Sea Song

The heart has always known a melody
which it can sing along to
& it has always known a language
in which it can
easily translate its emotions:

Likewise, it knows a plethora
of rhythms it can move along to,
sprightly, stately, the breeziness
of the day takes over & takes hold.

The heart knows which waves
it can crash headlong into,
which tides to turn with:
It has a music of its own,
a sound which is
both authentic & distinct.

One hears it in the fluttering breezes,
the traffic rushing down McKinley,
a hubbub of voices drifting
in & out of time.

All the heart asks of us
is that we find the time
to sing along,
to find our voices
in heartfelt music.