Week 2, Michaelmas 2018
Term starts again — and with it comes
Some keys left outside doors, not in.
And floors of brand-new JCRs lie
Soaked, absorbed with sin.
And welcome trees of Banbury, their
Leaves with faces stretched
Between the gaps of morning walks,
Mist-sunlight by my eye, except
My reading falls much slower than
Our lives – they run a mile.
Inside the stillness of the walls there
Isn’t time for whiles and waits and stasis,
Not at all.
But Corpus stays be-bumbled frenzied
— Hive of friendly-small.
Week 4, Michaelmas 2018
I have recently
Discovered that fortnights pass
The New Speakers
Week 6, Michaelmas 2018
Between the walls of community sound
Inside the thrall of light-speed pounds
Of a novelty, of a time for a joy — I would stress
That this verse is by no means a ploy
For your wonder, not promotion for entz!
This is all simply notice, for more excitement.
But really the panelled contagion inside here,
The loud-marked Fever of newness and all,
Is merely the Bridge from a now to a next year,
Emporium of votes in the form of a brawl.
Election’s a Cirqus, a Bully of dance,
Where Park Entertainment is all that you need
To just survive husts, and there’s still a chance
For your poet or maybe your entz to succeed.
Poem in celebration of the 221st anniversary of the JCR’s foundation
Week 7, Michaelmas 2018
Bookham-born but Balliol bred
Democracy lay waiting
Inside the sums of George Leigh Cooke
Who was all calculating
About the motions of the lives
Of Corpus undergrads.
He founded then the JCR
And everyone was glad.
Week 8, Michaelmas 2018
There once was a president Shiv,
To Corp he did everything give,
And although we all diss him
We really shall miss him
The best Prez that ever did live.
Week 2, Hilary 2019
A veggie, bright-green Monday
Dawns the new year with a crank
Of stuffed pepper-less excitement
And more mushrooms. To be frank
I hail the storm of vegetables
That Meat-Free Monday rains:
A monarchy of plant-based power
Though our President’s now changed.
New year, new term, new officers –
New manciple now too.
Our JCR democracy
Takes on an eco hue.
Week 4, Hilary 2019
It is the time of Corpus Challenge, now
We wait with trepidation but somehow
We have the strength and might to shoe the tabs
All endlessly, with chants and so with dabs
Of dancing tugs of war, and quizzing too:
The business of the sport is flying through
The air, the pelican is all but self-
Aware of battling blows beneath, our wealth
Of sporting prowess and our skill at Wii.
Dry ergs will drip with sweat and it will be
A win, I’m sure, with foxfoot light and grace—
For as Foxe knows, slow steady wins the race.
The Case of the Missing Camp-beds
Week 6, Hilary 2019
It really seems wrong
That 4 camp-beds have gone
In this dreary old Hilary term.
Before, they were squashed,
But now, they are lost!
And it really is making me squirm
That there can be such thieves
Who hide up their sleeves
Their tactics for stealing our slumber.
Our DO’s in shock
To keep under lock
All the beds, so they stay in their number.
An Oxfess came clean
To confess, but not to return them.
They are all mine
As we wept in the comments in yearning.
Corpus is Buzzing (or, ‘Corbuzz’)
Week 8, Hilary 2019
It feels an unnerving mysterious lot
(The quad-bound and burgundy whirring fridge-box)
For those flagstones to bear
In the February chair,
When the weather is freezing, then bakingly hot.
Our senses are fragile by Hilary 8th
Although some success has happened of late!
I’ve realised it’s March
In three lines and a half
But yes, to the sport where we’re doing so great!
The rugby team Corpus are a-top of the game,
And also at Torpids, we are doing the same.
Women’s One-they have blades,
And Men’s Three -they displayed
Such achievement, yes really! No spoons to our name.
So despite our old eduroam being quite bleak,
(And that fridge-box sending me mad as we speak)
The air is alive
With success as we thrive
On the buzz of the bee-hive of Corpus this week.
Week 2, Trinity 2019
Next week is Corpus Ball and we with glee
Await Pandora’s Box inside to see
The revelry unleashed.
And laced with dance
Corpuscles and their mates will get the chance
Now cherished, to ball the night away.
Unhinged, perhaps, but certainly OK.
Let’s celebrate our hive, because buzz
Too quickly past ourselves to fuss
Around each other.
But not this time:
Next Saturday unenvelopes
Sleep and Poetry
Week 4, Trinity 2019
Endymion— I envy you
And your eternal sleep.
Immortalised in Keats’s verse
Whose couplets count your sheep.
I yawned and blinked through yesterday;
No doubt I will tonight.
English Finals start meanwhile
With six carnations white.