Michaelmas Week 3

Week 3 brings the first (ish) of a number of musical poems, more often than not based upon the works of Gilbert and Sullivan. For best results sing in a broad baritone to the tune of this whilst wearing a policeman's hat, or failing that (being students) a traffic cone.


A Psychologist's Lot is not a Happy One

When a student's not engaged in essay-shirking,
Or maturing his post-graduation plans,
His capacity for actually working,
Is roughly half of any other man's.

Though with deadlines we don't regularly bother,
When our academic duties must be done,
We still sit procrastinating with each other,
So a student's lot is not a happy one.

Now I have a research project to be done, to be done,
And this student's lot is not a happy one, happy one.

When the Lawyer isn't pondering his casebook,
When the Medic's put his brain back in its jar,
He loves to spend his hours lost in Facebook,
Or getting slowly hammered in the bar.

When Psychologists have finished with Freud's mother
We love to lie in Christ Church in the sun,
Or to sit and chew the fat with one another,
But a student's lot is not a happy one.

How I wish this research project could be done, could be done
Then this student's lot would be a happy one, happy one.


And once again, some meaty meeting morsels, wherein the tendency for these particular poems to become somewhat bitter and cynical was firmly established as a trend which was to continue for the whole year.


JCR Meeting 2 - Amendments

In this poem, my friends, I intend to attend
to a trend that's engendered by this weeks agenda

To that end, I commend those who's pens independent
have penned a grand total of seven amendments

Alas that such motions don't make for particularly
good poems so I'll try to be done with this quickly

There's a call for a small sort of hall overhaul
And the ball needs one also I seem to recall

The impending elections are desperate for mending
Our tortoishell friends need extended defending

Our budget for charity could do with some clarity
prone as it is to apparent disparity

There's more I could name that remain in this vein
but the strain of sustaining this poem is a pain

So to close: a request I suggest you digest
if your subsequent patience you'd rather not test

My message is plain so I won't go overextend it
If a thing isn't broken then don't bloody amend it.