presents three poems from members of the Oxford University Poetry Society (OUPS), written in the course of a recent workshop at Lincoln College with editor, Afam Akeh

Untitled

Hollow doorsteps go from grass to grass;
Lintel and sill have unhinged themselves
Sylvia Plath

I do not
forget the river walks,

or in that lamp of light
being so bewildered,

the intimations of my stone.

Like flints were the heels of our shoes on the cobbles
the college gardens beautiful, beautiful!

And just tires shrilling
on concrete when it rains

the wolf in the rubble, electrical wires
in asparagus-bundles, too old to be safe-

learning to listen, I suppose,

a slow wound, learning the art of utter stillness.

Chloe Stopa-Hunt
New College, Oxford.

*

Nostalgia

I meant the damage I did. Just eleven,
In a detached redbrick Suburbia:

Newly moved house from rural Blandford Forum
To Junction 3 of the M25.

It’s quite clear, retrospectively, I strayed
Unlocked, into Grandad Bob’s empty bedroom.

(Him lying in Slough General Hospital,
Cold on a mortuary tray). It’s quite clear

I riffled quietly through his bedside cabinet,
Lifted a hundred quid out of his wallet.

One of those things that Ordinary People do.
Don’t believe me if I say I didn’t mean to.

Paul Abbott
St Annes College, Oxford.

*

Untitled

Limoncello-laced,
your sweet tongue
trips and stumbles
until it finds my lips.
It’s fervent aching eased
as we brush
and dance
and tease
and place
and love
to contentment and oblivion.

I’ll never doubt again, as I sit
alone, aching, empty, bored,
that together we are more than the
sum of our parts.

Corine Sawers
New College, Oxford.