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The years I spent at Andover were the worst years of my life.
I was a kid from Kansas, a very smart kid, if I do say so myself.
So smart, in fact, that my father had planned years in advance
that I should attend Phillips Academy (aka Andover), because
he could live out his fantasies vicariously--albeit unconsciously--
through me. My dad had grown up during the Depression dirt
poor, but he also was very bright and was determined to escape
the hellhole he had survived through sedulous work and Her-
culean effort, and thus became very rich. I, of course, had never
heard of Andover. I was content to go to public schools in Topeka,
Kansas, had many friends, got virtually straight-As, and enjoyed
immensely all the athletic teams I had played on. Also, I was elected
president of the student council in junior high. But all of that didn't
matter to my dad. Andover, and only Andover, was my dad's plan for
me. I had never heard of Andover, but dad had. He used to spend
countless hours reading books about rich and successful men
while lying on his bed at night. So, in due course, I was admitted
(not an easy thing to do) to Andover, and dad flew with me to
Boston, then rode in a cab with me some twenty miles north to
Andover in the town of--you guessed it--Andover, Massachusetts.
Andover is the oldest boarding school in America, founded two years
after our country was, in 1778. Paul Revere designed and made
the school's seal. George Washington sent his nephew there.
The campus was breathtakingly beautiful. Dad had met John
Kemper, Andover's headmaster, and had noticed what kind and
style of shoes he was wearing, so dad went out and bought me
the replica of Kemper's shoes. How weird, I thought. I received
at Andover plausibly the best secondary school education in the
world, but at an exorbitant social and emotional cost. A small
number of my classmates, principally from Greenwich and Darien,
Conneticut, though intellectually brilliant, were simply mean.
They were "the drops of poison," if you will, that turned Andover's
ambiance into an emotionally corrosive environment that affected in
an insidious way students and teachers alike. I managed to endure
this horror;  others did not. I chose to attend Columbia, not Yale,
because four more years at Yale would have been like spending
four more years at Andover, anathema for me. Columbia was liber-
ating. It's Core Curriculum made you learned for life, and living in
and exploring for four years New York City, the veritable capital of
the world, made you a citizen of the world for life, even if you decided
to reside somewhere else after graduating, which I did. I live now in
Boulder, Colorado, far away from Greenwich.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
A graduate of Andover and Columbia College, Columbia University, Tod Howard Hawks has been a poet and human-rights advocate his entire adult life. He recently finished his novel, A CHILD FOR AMARANTH.
Roseanna Feb 2019
My hands clasped together,
Sorry Words Repeated
Like scripture.
All those God ****** forgotten promises.

I always knew that you were a little broken.
But when did i
become so lost?
I can't think to how it started.
when did things become so off?

But now reflecting back on it?
Maybe, just maybe
There is something broken hidden in all of us.
Brandon Conway Sep 2018
it's our most requested feature
it's our most commonly ignored request
give us more money
then we will maybe work on what y'all suggest
TexasRambler Sep 2017
As Heaven and Hell filled your glass you gave me the the gift of laughter and raised my spirits several times.
Those stories about a plethora of assess, wild crazed friends, and a hard painful life intrigued me for countless hours.

Never are you just a simple shade of black or white your always that insane drunk artist that mixes up the paint.
Your advice and experience taught me new colors that I would have never been able to imagine before.
Unlike me your a true writer that’s unaffected with the STD of being just a poet, but you still just might have the clap.
Your works are ****** great so don’t you EVER stop trying to get your stuff out to this twisted world……..

Because if you quit I will seriously be obligated to punch you and I know you’ll still be able to easily kick my ***,
even though you probably broke your hip after you got out of your walker and unplugged your dialysis machine.

I’m not a mascochist  (Unless I get a *** of cash or your a pretty Asian girl) so please for the love of god never make me do that, and hell I really like a lot you so I’d really prefer not to put a .38 special deep into your chest cavity.

Keep staying crazy you ******* and although more than likely as your future attorney I’ll sure as hell stay busy,
but your my big brother and I ******* love you man so don’t you ever change.

P.S. Don’t hog on all of the good runoff ***** unless they are too chubby.
Heres a poem dedicated to probably the most interesting person that I personally know.
Àŧùl Jul 2017
They have not read any good poems.
Or maybe,
They have not read any good sagas.
They have just seen breakups.

Literature - the written word,
It stays forever.
I love my "The 'Angel?' Series",
It is like a diamond.

And I love my story "7 Seconds",
It is my diadem.
My HP Poem #1613
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jul 2017
Sometimes I feel jealous of all others,
They have their siblings and lovers,
But even I have my dear parents.
My HP Poem #1612
©Atul Kaushal
This whole l\
Stupid rant/kind of poem.. Just spat put bits and pieces of how I've been feeling today and mostly all this week. (Criticism is accepted)
cody dale Jan 2015
at first on a cite unknown
strangers talk
and i hear
we met I dont know how
she likes my words
and seems cool
her words are sweet and clear
she must have a great life
she gives me hope and reason
a feeling that
someone cares
one true friend even though we just met
#foundher?             #someonespecial
IsReaL E Summers Nov 2014
"Feel like coming back to life!
(Im falling)
Feel like coming back to life
(This black crow becomes a white dove)
Feel like coming back to liiife
(Im falling again, im falling again I'm
Falling in Love)"
From the swedish band blindside

— The End —