The Source

Dear Reader,

It has been so long since last I felt your fingertips tracing my pages, cascading shivers across my spine. I have missed your smile, and the way your laugh reaches your eyes; I would do...

Culture Tilly White -

Fresh-water

I am no longer a mother—I have surrendered my body to the surgeon’ssea shells...

Culture Briony Arnott -

‘Pour summer in a glass’: retracing Dandelion Wine

“You did not hear them coming. You hardly heard them go. The grass bent...

The Source Cici Zhang -

Perhaps, Oxford

We met at a Latin meeting hosted by the Oxford Ancient Languages Society at...

The Source Ngoc Diep -

Latest

The com(m)e(n)t

Scrunching it into a ball, you toss it atmospheric, out of sight.

Candles

Dreams are made of candles, pinpricks of a deeper light.

‘warþ gasric grorn, þær he on greut giswom’ [Fish sad when washed to shore] – The Franks Casket

hronæsbansorrowful, weeping tears of salttaken, hunted, harpoonedfrom my blue lagooncrafted by you into this box. hronæsbancarve me, recalcitrant though I ammay my banhus tell both...

Palimpsest

This is a secular city, built on holy bones. We’re on the edge of another fissure. Nothing so grand as a revolution. But the grey...

A Eulogy for Tommy

Ea! It’s so cold! I cried from me bedwhen I pulled down the coovers an raised up me edto see bright rays of sunlightstream...

In The Beginning

I was alone with the earth and the sunbefore you came along: there was no life, notthen, not even song. My hope had been...

Loaded Words

Where now those sentences, those syllables,Loaded like cannon balls on the field of Austerlitz?Full of the weight and confidenceAnd destructive power of centuriesOf thought,...

We Walk Along

We walk along by the river, my hand in his, our arms of different lengths and his palms much bigger than mine. The sun...

The Mermaid

The mermaid is dying, and no one cares.She does not belong here, here in the suburbsWhere council-mandated hedges block her from the sea.She does...

Matchstick Cats

Mark and Trev were surrounded on the bed of the truck by old wooden beams and bits of furniture – debris of a life...

Post Diagnosis

"You could tell no one, And it would come anyway."

Ode to a Nearly Beloved

"As though through tracing paper, I etch your features onto faces of strangers I’ll never know."

Pink Tulips

"I want our story to be one of fields of flowers and quiet sunsets. I do not wish for violence."

Tangerine

"Picking apart the peel of the ripest fruit, prying open its flesh."

The Saintly Lives of Students

"There, there(‘s) a graveyard in the college where drunk students in funeral suits smile through tombstone teeth."

Diffidence

"non est, ut putas, virtus, pater, timere vitam, sed malis ingentibus obstare nec se vertere ac retro dare."

May The Wolf Die

Read the latest from The Source: 'May the Wolf Die' by Nina Naidu It’s not as though you’ve had your fill.Each night, a lunar eclipse,...

A window to the soul

“A window to the soul”I would fix my gaze upon its shuttersPale, dusty blue-greenTarnished edgesAn irritating creakThey’re faulty,Letting unwanted light stream inBlinding me,Or they...

Genetics

What beauty is thereIn the anger that spills from your lips?After every kissA fightUneven groundI've become so good at telling liesThe droplets fall; I...

Drowning in You

Read the latest from The Source on the theme of relationships, 'Drowning in You'! I feel like I’m drowning as I struggle with your embraceI...

123...9 Page 2 of 9

The Source

Dear Reader,

Fresh-water

‘Pour summer in a glass’: retracing Dandelion Wine

Perhaps, Oxford

Follow us

Support Student Journalism

Explore

Follow us

More