The Poor Print

Rhodes Must Fall UCT: Mission Statement

The Myth of Rhodes: a Special Report The Myth of Rhodes: Editoriel Rhodes: a Perspective Rhodes Must Fall: a Timeline Putting Rhodes in His Place Iconography Campaigns: a Global Perspective Safe Spaces and Student Protest Complete Bibliography for the Report Dr Ian Forrest: Guide to Further Reading Facebook posts cited Previous Poor Print coverage Misinformation in the […]

Primary source

‘Colonial Comeback’ cocktail controversy

Primary source

Rhodes Must Fall UCT: Bremner Occupation Statement

Primary source

19/03/15: #RHODESMUSTFALL Solidarity Action on Oxford High Street

Poetry

Inkwell

by Tom Davy “There’ll be hell toupee” We joked eight months ago in May While remarking on the putrid tan That could orange the seven seas. And we were laughing to the end, Drinking and laughing, watching A map become increasingly red in the face. “It’s alright, we only need Florida” With another […]

Print issues

Issue #17 – Tension

A pdf of the print version of Issue #17 – ‘Tension’ – can be downloaded here: Issue 17 – Tension

Artwork, Cartoon, Prose

A Tale of Cats and Dogs

Text & Illustration by Tacita McCoy-Parkhill In all the years we have owned this dog, we’ve never bothered to teach her tricks. The one thing we have drilled into her head however, is sitting. She squats obediently, muzzle high in the air, and waits for the Good Thing that is sure to come. The other […]

Culture, Food & Drink, Prose

Cut-Price Cuisine: Salmon and Butternut Squash ‘Lasagne’

by Alice Correia Morton The supermarket ‘reduced to clear’ section can be a treacherous place. Away from the bright lights of the aisles, unpacked in the kitchen, the purchased bargains can baffle. Foods thrown together by virtue of impending use-by dates don’t always lead to the most appetising of meals. But with the help of a […]

Creative Writing, Prose

A Common Problem

by Amanda Higgin Xanda and I are queuing for the Ladies’ during the interval of the Rocky Horror Show (which is no longer showing at New Theatre, I’m afraid, but here’s a tip for if you ever see it: you’d think wearing more clothes than everyone else would make you feel less vulnerable, but if […]

Prose

Is Language Sexist? Is Sexism Linguistic?

by Anna Wawrzonkowska Do we think what we say, or do we say what we think? The difference is slim, but extremely important. In other words, the dilemma could be phrased as: is language shaped by our thoughts and opinions, or does it shape them? The visual statement made by the graph above is clear and […]

Comment, Diary, Prose

Slow Travel: A Journey Northwards

by Tobias Thornes The North wasn’t designed for travellers. Even in a warming world, where my arrival was met with bitterly weeping rain that would have been snow in a more typical November – if ‘typical’ still exists any more – Canada is not a country easily traversed. As I wended my slow way northwards, […]

Poetry

Worn-Out Words

by Aidan Chivers The cracked pots of consonants lie strewn across the ground, And quiver with the rattle of feeble cliché – Whimpering, they give out a creaky, plaintive sound Battered by tiny tongues forcing their decay. Colourless vowels fade, hollowed out through overuse: An impotent oblivion of musty, mouldy scents. Antique tapestries unravel; […]

Collection

Highlights of 2016

A selection of some of 2016’s most popular articles on our website ‘Oxford: A café map’ – Sophie Barnes Oriel Interviews: “I like to be popular…” ‘Misinformation in the Rhodes Campaign’ – Madeline Briggs ‘Periods, Taboos and Female Shame’ – Emma Gilpin ‘Chicken Run or Ritual Slaughter’ – Jacob Warn ‘Remembering […]

Poetry

Dusk

by Tom Davy The audience departs. A discerning moon watches them, Watch-checking coated herds Emerge into the street, phones out Like fireflies as they flutter about. There’s a dusk around all of them, Its tusks tucking night’s handiwork Swiftly over chimneys. One of three Compliments the lead, another agrees, The third sneezes abruptly to the […]

Poetry

Serenity

by Anna Wawrzonkowska serenity in the city of spires, choirs and fires is serenity at the side of the river cold springtide shiver is serenity in the candlelit burning waiting and yearning is serenity where the grief is expected and truth rejected is serenity serenity serenity wordless playwright in mirrors fashioning heroes is serenity where […]

Poetry

The Naked ‘I’

by Lizzie Searle Every day I sport a cloak, A cloak I wear but do not own. I fashioned it from want and smoke And it clothes each frail bone. And with that cloak of smoke and blight, I wear a heart pinned to my cuff. Only to remove at night That sad and desperate […]

Comment, Diary, Prose

Slow Travel: Castro’s Cuba

by Tobias Thornes Entombed forever in a place where sunlight never shines. Beaten and broken by remorseless hands and feet. Tortured until I no longer recognise truth from falsehood. Consumed by fear, is there anything left of what I once was – anything left of myself? This was not my reality. But it was, I […]

Creative Writing, Prose

Watching Night Fall

by Amanda Higgin Xanda and I sit in the window seat of the cafe, watching Oxford as it slips into darkness. People below are barely distinguishable coats laden with bags as they scuttle through the damp streets towards some dry, artificially lit haven. Some dusks are beautiful blends of mystery and sunset blush; tonight is […]

Comment, Prose

Turning Up Trumps

by Eleanor Harris It is hard to put a positive spin on an inexperienced man, who is also vocally racist, sexist and homophobic becoming the next President of America. But over the past few weeks, that is the difficulty that we have been facing. Time and time again, our words have seemed to ring hollow. […]

Prose

Twilight Illuminations

by Aidan Chivers ‘Ubi caelum condidit umbra/Iuppiter, et rebus nox abstulit atra colorem’ (Aeneid 6.271-2) – ‘When Jupiter has buried the heavens in shadow, and black night has stolen the colour from things’ ___________________________________ Drawing on traditional Greco-Roman mythology in his assignment of a powerful deity to explain the grandeur of this natural process, Virgil […]

Poetry

Upon Waking

by Miriam Stegmann The gravity of an ending In the fleeing dark Anthracite clouds of breath Hanging low Over the curve of your heavy skull Your globe, world of worlds Allegory of bones, blood, brain Your thoughts A black box Weighing me down. In foreboding shadows you rest Below my collar bone Pressing onto my […]

Creative Writing, Prose

Fragile Figures

by Samuel Irvine The heavens continue their onslaught. Frozen rain beats down on the rusted exterior of the aircraft, already lost in the storm. Inside, I stare at the small mound of poorly cured furs and scraps of cloth serving as blankets, resting across a row of worn seats that lie on the far side […]

Prose

Noch

by Kryssa Burakowski «Ночь, улица, фонарь, аптека, Бессмысленный и тусклый свет.» – “The night, the street, the lamp, the pharmacy, A senseless and dim light.” (The Russian sounds much better than my translation.) These are the opening lines to a short poem of October 1912 by Alexander Blok, a Petersburg poet of the Russian Silver […]

Artwork, Cartoon, Comment

A Modest Proposal for Improving the Range and Quality of Items on Offer at Breakfast for Members of Oriel College, and for Thereby Improving the General Health and Wellbeing of All Those Concerned

by Alex Waygood

Print issues

Issue #16 – Dusk

A pdf of the print version of Issue #16 – Dusk – can be downloaded here: Issue #16 – Dusk

Photography

‘Dusk’ photography competition

Curated by Chris Hill, Alex Waygood and Joanna Engle. Photos clockwise: Jenny Potter; Sophie Stiewe; Kryssa Burakowski; Kat Wood; Rebecca Leigh; Lucy Mellor; Lola Salem; and Chris Hill .

Prose

Skardu to Islamabad

by Luke Sheridan. An account of a journey. As written at the time and unaltered. Meandering plains, gently drawn pillows of silt that at times abruptly swing into a valley as sand dunes but which tend to converge between mountains to push the water into rapids. The beginning of this journey is permeated by the […]

Interview, Prose

Stories of Oxford: Angelis

Interview by Alex Waygood, Joanna Engle and Christopher Hill ‘I’m trying to get accommodation, but as a single male I’ve got no chance in hell…’ We meet Angelis in North Oxford. He lets us interrupt his reading to tell us about his experiences… Are from Oxford? No. Liverpool and Italy. But I’ve been down here, […]

Interview, Prose

Stories of Oxford: Darren

Interview by Alex Waygood, Joanna Engle and Christopher Hill ‘They’re horrible people, where I come from…’ There’s a man playing an electric keyboard on Cornmarket Street. He introduces himself: ‘Darren Potter, as in Harry Potter’. Music is Darren’s life. He bought his keyboard in a charity shop, and has been teaching himself to play; we […]

Interview, Prose

Stories of Oxford: Carol

Interview by Alex Waygood, Joanna Engle and Christopher Hill ‘Boredom motivates me…’ Carol works on Cornmarket Street selling hats, scarves and her artwork. It’s a busy Saturday afternoon and the streets are full, but she says she has time to talk to us. You’ve got some great artwork you’re doing here. It’s what I do. […]

Interview, Prose

Stories of Oxford: David Lloyd George

Interview by Alex Waygood, Joanna Engle and Christopher Hill “If I had their money, I’d buy an island and sit on it all day! David Lloyd George, beloved amongst Oriel joggers, sits on a bench in the Christ Church meadows. We ask if he has time for a chat… Go for it! Are you from […]

Comment, Prose

Visions of Cultural Appropriation

by Zad El Bacha Utopia There have been hundreds of years of rich, positive exchanges between cultures. When a European meets an Arab, they ask them about the patterns on their clothes, the words in their books, the instruments in their songs. The Arab asks them the same. They listen and learn, they answer in […]

Comment, Diary, Prose

Slow Travel: A Cuban Conundrum

by Tobias Thornes The heat of a long, lingering Louisiana summer simmered still as I made my slow way across the humid wetlands of that southerly state. It’s a country of wide deltas and stretching coastal marshes, a buzzing frontier between the amazing lifeforms of land, sea and sky united in a swampy soup of […]

Poetry

Dear Jack

by Lizzie Searle Dear Jack, Darling I miss you. It hurts this far away. It’s pleasurable. I know you miss me so much more than I miss you. You’re needy and pathetic and rich. I love you. I love the nights we sing together, huddled on the same piano stool or better still when I […]

Poetry

Et In Arcadia Ego

by Alexander Walls Such a phrase, of course, we may not oft hear, Yet what is Eden? What is paradise? We idolise an Arcadian past; We long for a Utopian future. How will any of these dreams come to pass? We must refocus. Clouds block out the light Bringing gloom and dusk. Clouding our vision […]

Poetry

Catch Me If You Can

by Jenny Potter Smudges of neon watercolour stain The powder blue of the heavens. Towering stems slash at bare shins, Marking pink, criss-crossed fire Across epidermal brickwork. Fields dusted with poisoned petals Glow yellow in the waning sun. Rich greenery shrouds footed clay Leading through lush summer growth To trees of suitability: tall, spindly, straight […]

Prose

Morning

by Lucy Mellor Hazy sunbeams glide effortlessly through the bay window and seep across the ancient wooden floor. Unashamedly they stream through pure white curtains and gently stir the couple entwined in a large white bed. Slowly coming into the world, comforted by the warm heaviness of being home with no imminent desire to be […]

Artwork, Cartoon

Election slot machine

by Tacita McCoy-Parkhill

Comment, Prose

The Hills

by Eleanor Harris The view from the top is never the same, although I know every hold. One of the few things you can rely on in Snowdonia is, perhaps paradoxically, that it will always be changing; and yet, despite the dramatic seasonal changes, the ancient hills are consistently compelling. All year, it is as […]

Poetry

All the Blues I’ve Ever Known

by Rebecca Slater All the blues I’ve ever known add up to this – this single perfect blue which is really a thousand blues, bottled up like the beachedblue glass on my mother’s mantelpiece, my father’s bluebuttoned shirt stained from Sunday afternoons painting my brother’s blue-walled bedroom – a boyish bias, ever since that blue […]