The Source

Perhaps, Oxford

We met at a Latin meeting hosted by the Oxford Ancient Languages Society at University College. I signed up for Latin partly out of curiosity, partly out of guilt. I’d...

The Source Ngoc Diep -

How to Say Goodbye to the Cities You’ve Loved

For those of us between borders, home is not fixed; it’s cumulative.

The Source Ngoc Diep -

W.H. Auden at the Bus Stop: In Praise of Intellectual Delay

It’s a damp Tuesday afternoon, and W.H. Auden is waiting patiently at the bus stop...

The Source Ava Doherty -

A Pelican Crossing Somewhere on Green Dragon Lane

"The passage of time is a bloodthirsty hound."

The Source Briony Arnott -

Latest

On my white window ledge

'Now I see them yield to the light, papery and, with old age, translucent.'

Ode to an empty Oxford

"The quads no longer echo with passing, light-hearted exchanges or 3am stumbling returns from Hassan's."

The Sick Worm

Thy earthy tendrils long to prick The burgeoning bud.

KitKat

Lying down like an upset wine bottle, smeared across the floor

cry, tears

cry the way you cry when you reach the shore again

Hard Pressed

Why do I need to pick those flowers that are screaming, “I am alive!” to kill between the pages of a heavy book?

Movement

The energy in the trees was palpable- at once pulsating and swirling

Conversations with my Lover

The fat little curves of cats’ bellies, and stiff white peaks of egg.

Personal History

You want to understand how someone could be two people. Why you failed to recognise it at the time.

You

Regaining my youth only means losing you all over again.

At the Station

A laugh into the silence, a step into the stillness, and a single breath seems to make the station tremble.

En Attendant

So sit on the roof and watch remotely The wind that makes the spires dance there, slowly

round

of feeling directional

The Sheldonian

That is the beauty of the concert. Music threading its way in and out of the thoughts of a hundred vague spirits in the audience.

Unterwegs

So let us meet at the station, then, and what happens after we can decide again

Affairs

like landmines or arms holding someone they love

Ping-pong

Stupid rules are still rules

Addressed to the Stones:

We’re alive and beyond comparison

Sun sets, small town

So the masks are sloughed off, and my heart stretches a shining ladder, reaches

Wild Flowers

Join me as I walk past the best of gardensIts tulips nod my wayBut their colours filter through my sunglassesAnd don’t quite hit me...

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The Source

Perhaps, Oxford

How to Say Goodbye to the Cities You’ve Loved

W.H. Auden at the Bus Stop: In Praise of Intellectual Delay

A Pelican Crossing Somewhere on Green Dragon Lane

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