Michaelmas Week 6

According to the JCR Constitution, the Poet Laureate is only actually mandated to write a single poem throughout the entire year he holds the post. This is perhaps why it is such a popular position at election time, coming as it does with almost limitless possibility coupled with almost no actual responsibility. Anyway, the one poem we Laureates have to write is in 6th week of Michaelmas term, to celebrate the JCR's Birthday in 1797. Traditionally of course, many past Laureates eschew even this tiny responsibility, having exhausted what little artistic energy they have (if any) in weeks 1 through 5. I, thankfully, was made of sterner stuff. Aren't I great.


212 Candles Means a Pretty Big Cake

When times are hard and essays long
There is a place we all belong.
A room where time seems not to pass,
Where one may sit upon one's arse
And fear no shame or retribution.

This noble college institution
For years we all for granted took,
Since it was formed by George Leigh Cooke,
A Chair of Natural philosophy,
(So claims his wikipedia entry,
Though further info's somewhat frugal,
as I couldn't find his name on Google).

Although his deeds we can't recall,
We bear his heirloom one and all.
And so to you, the place we are
All members, dearest JCR,
I pen this verse and raise my glass,
And hope you may forever last.

Two hundred years and twelve you've stood,
A bastion of pannelled wood.
You've suffered every last misuse,
And years of mess and vile abuse.
Yet through it all you still remain,
And never grumble or complain.

For though you see us at our worst,
When falling drunkenly headfirst
Into your arms, you also see
The best of all our quality:
The warmth for which we're rightly known,
The spirit that makes Corpus 'Home'
(And not the kind they sell downstairs
That caused those stains upon your chairs).

You've stuck with us through thick and thin,
And biblical degrees of sin.
So common room we love the most,
To you I would propose a toast:
To happy times behind your door...
Here's to them, and many more.


As for the meeting poem, the slightly disjointed JCR terms of office meant that the end of Michaelmas also sees the end of all the committee members who actually get anything important done (this is of course not the case, and a horribly gross and lazy generalisation, for which I apologise unreservedly). This poem was, therefore, something of an 'end of an era' thing. Sad times indeed. But hey! Christmas! Yaaaaay!


JCR Meeting 4 - Bankruptcy

As all good things must come to pass
This meeting, our committee's last
suggests the passing of an age
When old hands must give up the stage
And hope the new incoming throng are
harder better faster stronger.

But moving on before I'm seen
and sued by Daft Punk's legal team
The motion's you're about to hear
Are full of frugal festive cheer
We wish, it seem, to waste a whopping
wad of cash on Christmas shopping
Let's take a look beneath the Corpus
Tree and see what Santa's bought us?

This one's addressed to old Sir Tim
a parting gift from us to him
And here's a bunch of bigger mugs
With blankets too to keep us snug
They'll warm our fingers, heat our toes
while we all munch cheap burritos

This one's quite big, what can it be?
Oh look a shiny new TV
And eco-friendly pens from Sarah!
Although I maybe made an error
My gift to her was poorly planned.. a
fur hat made from real panda.

And when the stream of presents end
If we still have some more to spend

Let's blow all our remaining cash
Upon a damn good christmas bash
for all the staff and committee
(especially since one of them's me)

And so in conclusion, I wish all you here
A very merry Christmas and a bankrupt new year!