Bentley Literary Society

Once a year, every fall, an amazing night happens at Bentley University. As the clock strikes 10pm, all the creatures come out for a night of great dancing. GrooveBoston happens every year and it is quite an event. Tickets sell out quickly and weeks of prep go into one night just for the students. It is amazing how music and dancing along with wonderful costumes brought joy to so many faces. This was all possible due to the help of various groups; student organizations, the Campus Activity Board and Bentley University staff and  volunteers came together to put together this wonderful event. Weeks of planning resulted in the marketing campaign which promoted the event through creative videos. Hours of preparation were spent for the day of the event, to make sure students had a great time. Special thanks to everyone who made it possible; from food services, water suppliers, photographers and the set up and tear down crews.

Sep 3
As the Clock Strikes 10, all the ghouls and kids come out to dance
Sep 3

We don’t need to burn the books

And send the smoke billowing through the air

To build a skyscraper of ash

That’d make people stop and stare

No, we don’t need to burn the books,

We bury them instead,

Under terabytes of data,

Where they’re deleted before they’re read

And we don’t need to guillotine the writers

And put their heads high up on pikes

Instead we banish them to obscurity

From having too few “likes”

We don’t crush rebellions anymore

With swords and bayonets,

There’s no need to stop them,

If they’re not viral on the internet

Because there’s no need to stop the revolutions

When there’s no new troops on the ground

Riddle me this—if a protest gets no YouTube views

Does it even make a sound?

—Meghan Ryan

Sep 3
We Don’t Need to Burn the Books

The cold breeze,

Goodbyes,

Songs and quotes,

Forever not being enough.

Time, not having enough, passing too fast, the past,

The memories.

Shutting your eyes in a cold breeze,

As it trickles up your legs;

Pictures of lost meaning,

Changes with the season,

The chill, the touch, the tear,

And the fear.

What’s out of reach,

And what’s seemingly too close for comfort.

The goodbyes, the darkness, and the black.

The questions, and your mind drowning in what if’s;

The secrecy, the illness, the death, and it coming too soon.

The innocence, the bliss, and the ignorance of one single moment;

The beauty, the smiles, being in the right place at the right time,

And realizing it;

Hearing your favorite words being tied together

And read to a crowd, as you watch their faces.

Being held, being touched, the grip, the hope

And the possibilities flooding your mind;

The kiss, the bliss, the sun,

The belief of good.

The sadness, the loneliness;

The running, the spinning, the watching and the waiting of what’s to come;

The weakness, the simplicity, the rain,

And breathing in once too deep;

The freedom, the getaway;

The memories, the ones of those who faded,

And the laughs that cannot be reminisced;

The past and its stability.

The words that set you free,

The lyrics that say what you cannot,

The quote that leaves us breathless,

The memories that leave us hopeless,

The silence that screams,

And the touch that leaves us with goose bumps.

—Mackenzie Parker

Sep 3
Goosebumps