An Ode to Fresher’s Week
Earlier in the year, we held a competition to write a poem which best summed up fresher’s week. Thank you everyone for your submissions – We now have a winner, and some other runners up have been included!
Love and kisses,
Ode to University
The start of September, that’s when we arrive,
Big fish, small ponds, fresh faced and alive
With excitement and awe, we enter the gates
Of Murano, a new home, a new world with new mates,
Raw ideation of what we’ll become,
Set loose on the world, without dad, without mum.
And right from the start, whilst wailing “GO TEAM”,
The helpers arrive with their high self esteem.
Slowly time passes, we find the GU,
A sanctimonious castle, encompassed with poo.
Where once there was HIVe, the fortress of love,
Living up now in heaven, looking down from above.
We’re told the QM is gothy and shite,
But cheesy is class, so it’s actually alright.
We discover a cult, a medic ‘brigade’,
A yellow committee in which no-one gets paid.
Helmed by a ginger the size of Jaap Stam,
And Vice’d by a ninja who’s from Vietnam
We find the free booze, for three pounds a head,
And start waking up fearful in some random’s bed.
Every October, we travel afar,
To SNIMS and to sports, all we want is the bar.
There’s always that guy, drinks too much – falls asleep.
And that girl who does netball, chased around by a creep (from Dundee)
Then there’s the Ceilidh, with many a waltz
Where we let off the English for all of their faults
Just before Christmas, the grand MedChir ball,
Where all the girls flee from that Fifth year Rep Paul.
In March after finals, the Scrubby ensues,
Where Prof. Walters prays that we don’t make the news.
The years come and go, and nothing does change.
We go for the pints, feeling old no-less strange.
At the end of the day, without MedChir we’d cry,
So long and farewell, adieu and goodbye!
by Duncan King, Iain Johnson
Vodka, Oh vodka
How can it be
That I cannot spend
a mere day without thee
I wake up in the morning
Feeling like death
My flat mates are moaning
I have vodka on my breath
I look up at the sky
The light has dimmed
I am ready to cry
And feel weak limbed
But my friends assure me
Its only one week
So we go for a pre
I have kept the streak
by Sherief Kholeif
There once was a patient named Francis
Who had a big massive great abscess
Of course it was drained
And pus it did rain
To keep my clothes clean was no success
by Joe Mullaly
Our winners of the ‘Ode to Fresher’s Week’ Contest are Duncan King and Iain Johnson
A haiku on starting revision;
No no no no no,
No no no no no no no,
No no no no no.
by Conor Horscroft
Here’s an ode to fresher’s week,
Seven days of fun that are never bleak.
Fairs and stalls with leaflets galore,
So much to do you’ll never bore.
At night both unions come alive,
Where to go? You can’t decide!
In the morning heads are sore,
With fuzzy memories of the night before.
At the end you’re sad to see it’s through,
And everyone’s stuck with that same old flu.
But here at Glasgow you can bet,
That fresher’s is a week you’ll never forget!
by Amy Turnbull
I hear medchir ball is a hoot
So I’d love to get my hands on the loot
Better give my girlfriend the other ticket
Or I’ll be in a sticky wicket
And she won’t let me put it in her doot
by Blazza McClymont
rush. late for placement
Cold looks make me wonder how
I still love Viper
wisdom deep in books
The Wolfson is a prison
Which i know too well
keen bean, and avid
yearns to work, yet will soon see
beer bar is calling
Fear. Monday begins
we look forward through the chill
to MedChir for warmth
“why must we know this”?
all is examinable
the only reply
by Chris Brennan