UVM/GIV Engineering Summer Institute June 28 - July 5, 2008

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2005: Poetry Contest

Every summer, we challenge each participant to write a poem that reflects her or his experience and new knowledge. At the end of the week, the staff selects several outstanding poems to honor at the closing ceremony. The winning works appear below.



First Place Poem by Laura Vaillancourt: "Ode to Archie"
(Note: This poem was written in picture form of a sand arch, the beach of its birth, and of the water it returned to)

You were born and ugly lump of nothing, scoured from your watery lair for someone else’s sick pleasure your -
Maturation revealed your beautiful nature, your carefully crafted curves, the most well constructed hips that -
Can come from such gritty genes. You became a guarded princess, your captors afraid to leave -
You be for more than a mere minute for fear that some insidious force would tear your apart -
Every bird a threat to your health, every child a potential destroyer you were
Guarded with diligence until your final moments.

But now you have returned to your birth place among the waves
For we tested you too hard and you caved under our constant demand
For more strength, now your are submerged among your siblings
Of sand, or have dried in the sun and now last only as
Dust in the wind
But for a few short hours
You were our sand arch
The greatest monument of
Our plight to engineering expertise!

Second Place Poem by Erika Hango: "Ponders at Nerd Camp"

Why go to a camp like school Engineers of all fields and types
When I could be swimming in my pool? Everything from robots to pipes
Can it really be fun? Trips to see sewage and a dam
From the challenge should I run? Composting, HUSKY, and IBM.
But no, on Sunday I am here Sand arches built on the beach
A nice roommate-nothing to fear Everything designed to teach
The test-a robot to build Our generation not to destroy
My head is ready to be filled. ‘Cause the world is not a toy.
Many new friends and teamwork And to respect Mother Earth
Here I’m not the only dork Because all she’s given has worth
Circuits and bundles of wires A civil engineer I will be
Always carrying my pliers. This camp has given me the key.

Third Place Poem by Chris Lamothe: "A Robot is it"

I came in on one hot June day
The wind wasn’t blowing, the sun blazing away
The counselors setting rules that we must all obey
I really couldn’t wait to hit the hay

Then Tom starts to talk about matter
He reminds me of the mad-hatter
Which with memories of the latter
Cause my sanity to shatter
In a way that would make you jatter
Emptying your stomach creating such a splatter

This starts me thinking
The universe isn’t shrinking
I stare with eyes blinking
Like two glasses clinking
And then I start slinking
Away to the door
Time for food, something more
And this isn’t food from the general store
The need for food is at everyone’s core
And they provide us with plenty of gore

I then go to sleep and the next day I wake
The is up and continues to bake
To breakfast, to Tom, about physics, not cake
Then a computer monitor of hate he starts to break
Make Haste! Make Haste!
We’re off to see waste
See all this crap, this nice brown paste?
This is the problem our future will face
And not just us, the whole human race

Later in the week, we took tours
Tours and tours, in groups larger fours
Together, we traveled through thousands of doors
And don't forget, The millions of steps.
Those are one of my most largest regrets.
Just say "steps" and you will know everyone's frets.
Thousands and thousands of 'reps' PS: I lived on the 5th floor

Then came time for the robots,
Which can be better described as Gobots.
And like a hungry mob of workbots
We build and design in good old Vermots.
Where the favorite cheese of everyone is Cabots.

This week we have done plenty, we have done much.
But still I have this big, gigantic and huge hunch
that learning about engineering doesn't end like lunch
and that there is much more to learn, a bunch.
As bot building time comes down to the crunch,
many things are offered for us to munch.

It is Thursday, camp is ending
The return to our own home dwellings is pending.
To home, tutors and mentors of course are sending
new minds, new ideas, new thoughts, new dreams.
We now know that life isn't as it seems.

Fourth Place Poem by Sam Stout

I had an idea about a poem
But then my mind, it started to roam
Wondering when I would find the time,
To write this poem and make it rhyme
Engineering camp, it was so fun
I didn’t even want to do my morning run
Most nights we stayed up pretty late
And then we had to wake up at eight
At the many places we toured
We were never bored
There was always a new type of smell
To give us many stories to tell
The best day by far, was the beach
Garbology, Mr. Tailer did teach,
Then we made arches from the sand
Combining creativity from each unique hand
So many people, I was able to meet
Hearing all their backgrounds was really neat
I enjoyed conversation, and collaboration too,
This camp was an experience, it was something new
My memories of camp will be noted as fun
Even if our robot is not number one
Thanks to all the counselors, and to UVM
It wouldn’t have happened without all of them



Psalm for the Earth
By Tom Tailer

Oh children of the Earth!
Why do you lament?
Is it for the stupidity of your parent’s generation?
What have you learned to raise you above them?
Is it for the disappearance of the whales from the oceans?
Is it for the loss of the birds from the air?
Is for the absence of the insects and the creatures that crawl upon the face of the Earth?

Or is it for the realization
That you cry for yourselves.
When the mother’s breast is dry and her womb is barren
Where will her children find succor?

When the ancient forests are gone
When the last of the Elephants has turned to dust
When the great cats are only a distant memory
When the rivers have turned to dust

Then it shall be too late.
If you cry and do nothing
Then the Earth has taught you nothing.
What is the purpose of life if not to learn?

Turn your tears into action
Let the salt of your tears flow together into an ocean
Let the ocean rise, and in so rising, lift all our ships of hope
Let our ships journey to a future

Where the earth is green and alive
Where the children of the Earth do not cry for hunger
And thrust for knowledge and truth
Instead of a few drops of putrid water they might find.

What is life? Am I an animal? Is the hive the creature,
Or is the Bee? Is the flock the being or is the bird?
Every time I breathe a plant must grow.
Every molecule of water in my blood
Has flowed through fish, clouds, birds, and all living things
In the great cycle of water, In the great cycle of life
Where does it begin? It is as old as the earth.
Where does it end? I pray not with me.

Let me be a steward for the planet.
Let my hands act to heal this my earth.
She is my mother and I am a child of her womb
Brothers and sisters of the same mother

Let us heal her wounds
Let us stand by her in her crisis
Let us give thanks for her gifts
And not waste them,
For in so doing, we waste our selves

Go forth and plant a tree
Give thanks for the food in your mouth.
Be aware of the footprints you leave
Leave not prints that others must heal
See the beauty of the earth that surrounds and holds you up
See the beauty and become part of it
See the beauty and pass it on
Pass it on to the children
The children who will come in the future

Oh children of the Earth
Do something with your lament.
Your mother grows tired...