Sunday 25 November 2018

We're All Dead ~ Siyabonga Dlamini

Welcome to our world 
we're all dead here
we spend each day breaking our own hearts
and shedding endless tears
The world of those holding on to broken promises
and endless heartache
Where the hidden sorrow is as real
as the smiles are fake

Welcome to our world
we're all dead here
Holding on to memories 
of those who have long forgotten us
but to us, they are still dear
Where we constantly contemplate
what was, what could have been and what is
Where we deeply hate ourselves
and find it hard to forgive

Welcome to our world
we're all dead here
where moving forward seems impossible
and is our greatest fear
where we always endlessly relive our past
with the lovers who are ours no more
and remind ourselves of how our actions
caused them to go

We constantly weep, grieve and lament
The suffering seems to know no end
Welcome to the land of the broken
Welcome to the land of endless tears
Welcome to our world
We're all dead here...



© Siyabonga Dlamini

***
Class of 2016
***

No One can Tell Our Stories ~ Siyabonga Dlamini

Broken and sorry
No one can tell our stories
We come in different sizes and shapes
With different bruises and scrapes
Some are still brave and bold
While others empty and cold
In a world of our own
We've all been abandoned and are alone

Broken and sorry
No one can tell our stories
With disfigured bodies and shattered hearts
We have been cursed to forever bear our past scars
Of broken trust and deadly deceit
From beloved parents
Right up to strangers we met on the street
Who took our lives in the blink of an eye
And left us wondering,"Why, oh why?"

Broken and sorry
No one can tell our stories
We constantly relive
The happy moments from our previous lives
Before the unimaginable pain and strife
Before we collided with the soil from which we came
When life was still only fun and games
When we could still rmember our names

Broken and sorry
No one can tell our stories
In old and filthy clothes
With knife slashes to our throats
Bullet holes and axe wounds to the head and chest
We were prematurely put to rest
Some with unspeakable scars too scary
The methods of murder really do vary

Broken and sorry
No one can tell our stories
Stuck in this desolate place
From all walks of life and age
Where days and time seem forever frozen
Yet the door for new residents, is always open
Some are yellow and green from horrible, tragic plagues
With sores all over and pass oozing from their face
Sad, forgotten and alone
No one can tell our stories
We are the deceased children stuck in purgatory...



©  Siyabonga Dlamini

***
Class of 2016
***

Monday 24 September 2018

Just Silence ~ Sibongile Maseko

Tonight,
I lie on my favourite pillow
Saddened by tears
Because tonight, I'm hollow
I lost the only person who cares.

Nothing can mitigate the pain I'm feeling,
You left me with a gash that is deprived from healing.
How do I contend this dreadful calamity?
Who is going to fill this void within me,
this whole vicinity?

These retrospective memories,
They're so voracious!
They eat me up inside, just to retch
Then excrete these lethal fluids,
and out they go, in the form of tears.

Oh, but how contemptuous can you be?
Just leaving me
With nothing but this deafening silence.
No one will help me up when I slump on the floor
Because I lost the only person who cares,
The only one who hears
When I don't make a single utterance.
Now,
There's nothing but silence,
Just silence.


© Sibongile Maseko


***
Grade 11
***

Saviour ~ Mika Datadin

You say over and over again
that You're ugly, un-pretty,
unlovable,
and that is only because
You do not know what i see in You,
love

You say over and over again
that You're not worth much
but Darling, You're worth more
than the rarest gems in the world
tripled, to me

You say that there is nothing
special about those deep brown
eyes that i consider Your holy gift
They may not shine like stars do, but
They are that enchanting darkness
without which the stars could not
burn so bright

You'll never know
what love i see in You
You'll never know

You'll never know
how unworthy i am
to behold such an Angel
as You


© Mika Datadin

***
Grade 11
***

He Was Fine During The Day ~ Uwais Coetzee

He was fine during the day
And despite the darkness
He was fine at night too.
Nothing could get him down
Nothing got in his way
Not other people's actions
And not the words they'd say.
He enjoyed people's company
And talking to them on the phone,
It was all okay even when he was alone.
He was happy all the way,
Every step, every mile
And life was getting better
Until he saw her smile.
Until he saw her being
Happy without him, when
Every memory of his happiness
Involved every moment with her.
It was like how a room needs
The light to be bright but the
Light doesn't need the room to shine.


© Uwais Coetzee

***
Grade 12
***

Tuesday 7 August 2018

The Flower That Grew ~ Nkazimulo Mvemve

with roots embedded in the world she stood
beautiful & rare, I could not compare her to another
rooted to cement she pushed & pushed,
her way from the soil that was under

the flower grew from tough terrain,
but inevitably that did not strain,
as her beauty she still maintained
ever shining, even through the harshest rain

you wanted this more than me
so how is it that i, lovingly
want to make you grow more & more,
from subtly a flower into more like a splendid tree

there's a strong relationship, between a gardener & his flower
he gives his time to please & tender her, in order for them to love each other

energy not wasted and time spent beautifully together,
she reminds him of what happiness is like
and the same with him when he gives her all his love.
the flower is happy and... so is... he,
their fate is sealed for truth they were meant to be.



© Nkazimulo Mvemve

***
Grade 11
***

Being ~ Lulama Msomi

Being


I'm not happy
I am not in my element
All my dreams and aspirations have tumbled down and are now amongst the dust

More that are intelligent, gifted and bright have been discovered
I have no talent-not even kindness
I'm hurt...broken
Life is hard but I keep living
Who am I?
Am I a number...the number?
Am I still myself at her purest self?
I'm lost ...without a true sense of direction.
I want to be happy.
ALIVE!
I am not kind no I am not kind
My heart is not kind.



It's Complicated  


I don't know me
I don't even know what I want
I don't even know how to express my personal woes

I don't want to be like this anymore
I don't want to feel stuck

I don't know where to start.


©Lulama Msomi

***
Matriculant 2017
***

Sunday 15 July 2018

Him and I ~ Aphelele Buthelezi

This is a story about him and I
How we both felt broken
and both our truths were unspoken.
How we loved hard before
and both our hearts were sore.
How our hearts needed to heal
and why we wanted to kill -
kill every ounce of pain that cut beneath our skin
and how this apprehension made us kith and kin
This is no customary story - not one with a knight and shining armor and a fairy godmother
But one that has two people entering a rehab from love together just to heal each other.
How he changed reality into his dream
and all he did was write
How she wanted to hold him
and put all the pieces back together so he can be alright
She chases and she falls
From one love to the next
She runs and she trips
From one ship to the 'best'
And when she finally felt at home
It was as though he was loveblind
As though her love to him was just a fiend
We live in a pretentious world -
a world where the truth looks like a lie
a "hello, how are you?" Feels like a goodbye.
Where an "I love you" sounds like a "That's my cue"
my cue to let love past right in front of me
my cue to back off
my cue to let him choose
Whether he wants us to fuse or let her loose.
She was his blanket to his shivers, his defroster to his frozen,
His food to his hunger, his blood to his heart and his tongue to his speech
But it was though he was loveblind
As though her love to him was just a fiend
This world full of hurt :
How him and I try to stay sane
And are too scared to love again.
This is the story about him and I.



© Aphelele Buthelezi

***
Grade 12
***

Friday 13 July 2018

I Want to Fall in Love Again ~ Naadir Vorajee

I'd like to see her golden face
and feel her heart when we embrace:
A beat so strong, it'll pulse through me
A one-eyed look: Through souls I'll see

A want to feel her warmth surround:
A feeling that never touches the ground
A feeling that only us two share -
An angel walks in Eden, bare...

I wish to hear her tender voice sing
A silent hymn that makes me ring
like bells that call a man to pray
and lead the innocent not a stray

I must  smell her familiar scent,
that once a lonely man's heart straight-bent
that always guided me back to my home
and helped the soldiers that built up Rome

I need to taste her untouched skin
and release our souls locked deep within:
Make us one, to find our place
and bind us both like a knot of lace

This thing called love transcends our space
Our senses does it too embrace
But deeper than we can come to know
its bounds does it not care to show
Perhaps to us, it may never kneel,
why then, do we strive to its ideal?



©  Naadir Vorajee

***
Matric 2013
***

Thursday 28 June 2018

Hands of Empowerment ~ Ntando Mazibuko

There is nothing more powerful
than the tender hands of a person
A person who gives up her life
to make sure others live on.

A person who takes her time
to mould the ever so shapeless minds
into a sculpture of gold.

A person who carries the future
of many in her palms
A person who aims to enrich
instead of harm.

A person who dries the tears
of a nation’s many faces
A person who makes all of this
seem easy or so it appears.

A person who takes your hand
and says…
“I’m a teacher and I will always be here.”


© Ntando Mazibuko -TRIBAL_AFRXCA

***
Grade 12
***

Animosity ~ Ntando Mazibuko

These streets that we roam
Are the wilderness we call home

I’ve got blood on my shirt
But this blood ain’t mine
I thank God
I guess it wasn’t my time

I’ve got four mouths to feed
Fuelled and driven by need
Poverty is the chain from which we can never be freed
So I stay locked and loaded with a weapon better known as greed
And I’m blessed to find out that I can still breathe
Because…

I’ve got blood on my shirt
But this blood ain’t mine
The animosity clock is ticking
And I’m running out of time.

Bang…
Bang!

The animosity of gang banging
Poverty a mother that gave birth to drug slanging
A suicidal community
Drugs are the rope that’s hanging
But for me, the last bullet in his gun
Ended my time

Now I’ve got blood on my shirt
But this time the blood is…
Mine.



©   Ntando Mazibuko   -TRIBAL_AFRXCA


***
Grade 12
***

Sunday 3 June 2018

Writing Destiny ~ Mika Datadin

How can I say I am sad?

All that's ever plagued my mind

has been my own poem,

my own writing

I have an unfortunate habit of using

words that do not wish to be used.



I am that one that has put

lead to paper, the one that

has made the mistakes, those

words I believe do not fit,

those awkward lines and harsh

forced rhymes.

All those writings I so regret

Yet I continue to write my

poems as such because I

cannot use the words I wish to.



One day in the future, when I

am in later stanzas of my

work, I will be free to write

as I please. Nothing will prevent

me from scribbling free verse,

independently of expectations.

One day in the future,

I will write my life

the way I wish.


©  Mika Datadin

***
Grade 11
***

Inside My Home ~ Mika Datadin

As I awoke dreary-eyed

I felt the burden of the world

fall onto my chest once again,

Pushing the air out of my

noisy lungs, silencing me from

uttering my helplessness



As I stood heavy-hearted

walking to the family room

the air burned holes in

my ears, as argument ensued.

But I would rather have this

destructive shelter, than journey beyond these walls.



As I step out, I am greeted

by smiling faces and batting eyelashes

small talk and big reactions

There I see a classmate

There I see a distant Aunt

But everywhere I see falsehood



How could you ask me to step into

A world where reality is not reality

Where every smile a scowl

Where every hug is an excuse

To stab someone in the back?

How could you ask me to make myself vulnerable?



Leave me

Inside my home

Where at least we speak our

Indecent truths face to face

Leave me

Inside my home

Where at least I feel

Real


©  Mika Datadin

***
Grade 11
***

Do you fare well in America? ~ Mika Datadin

For Jadida Kalim

We have entered the night to tell our tale

For it is then that we can come out

It is then that we are accepted

And real



During the day we are expected

To show ourselves only to be chastised

We are expected to leave our homes

And face the danger that lurks outside



But in the early hours of the morning

We come out to play

To meet friends from across the globe

To help those in need of an ear

To hear their woes



During the day we are occupied

With ink-filled papers and

Ink-filled minds

Pens grow out of our hands

Formulas spill out of our eyes



But when the sun begins to set

I can meet you over text, my friend

And forget for a while

That you're somewhere away from here, some thousands of miles


©  Mika Datadin

***
Grade 11
***

Widowed of A Living Companion ~ Mika Datadin

Love me the way you did when we were young

When she became old and waned

When you needed another muse as she lay in her bed

And you in mine

When you grew tired of her age

And accustomed to my beauty



I remember how your face would bath

In golden light on my pillow

I remember how you would buy me flowers

And clothes, and everything a young maid desires

But you could never but for me your real

love, your real self; for that is priceless to me



And then another came around

The same time my attraction weakened

You told me you needed to move on

To discover yourself

Here I am, left in my bed

And you in hers



I pray to you now to remember how my radiance had once sung

Love me again the way you did when we were young



©  Mika Datadin

***
Grade 11
***

Torch the Stars ~ Mika Datadin

Become who you are meant to become

Feel the power that is so rightly yours

Make the earth quake as you stride

Make the ocean waves calm

In your presence



Create the winds of tornadoes

Create the downfall of mountains

And the destruction of volcanoes



Rearrange the stars and planets

to your liking

Rearrange the cosmos as you

deem fit!



But remember not to abuse your strength,

Warrior,

You can use your powers for good as well;

To nurture the smallest flowers,

The youngest baby bird

Protect those that look up to you

Do not forsake them as you have been forsaken,

Great Warrior



©  Mika Datadin

***
Grade 11
***

On His Skin ~ Mika Datadin

Today we see history repeat itself

I found for a long while that

I had no urge to write poems.

I can't even remember

my last story, or when it was written



However, today I find it necessary to

Pick up the pen once again.



No one really discouraged me from writing

No one really knew, and

Those that did,

None of them really cared.



However, today I find it necessary to

Pick up the pen once again.



My pen is made of magic in its steel

And tales in its ink.

Stories told time and time again

Yet unparalleled and fresh with each drop.



This is why today I find it necessary to

Pick up the pen once again.



I've had no real companion

Besides my sterling silver partner

It's kept me from my tears,

And shielded me from the

Screams of my pressure.



I may decide last minute not

To write, to be strong,

But my sadness is stronger lately,

So I wish to see my magic pen

Of silver ink leave red

Marks on its canvas tonight.

This evening

Nobody can stop me from

Picking up my pen once again.




©  Mika Datadin

***
Grade 11
***

Saturday 26 May 2018

My Mirror ~ Nkazimulo Mvemve

My mirror, my reflection.
Same to me in every way, no mistake what so ever.
We look at watch other as if we just met, but we haven't.
You've been around my whole life - not only in the mirror of my room -
But the ones in the world.
My reflection, never in one place.
You are all over shadowing me from the: windows in class,
The reflection in my tea, my watch and polished surfaces.
The same person in every way, but different form every time.

My mirror, my reflection.
Do you see the world the same way I see it?
Or do you only see the surroundings I'm currently in?
Do you have a voice similar to mine?
Or do you mimic my lip movement ever so perfectly?
Movement your mouth like mine.
Do you hear the sounds of life?
Or do you only listen to the silence of your 2 - dimensional world?                                                       

Where sound is unknown.                                     
Do you feel emotion?
Like when I cried in front of you and I saw my tears on your face,
And my heavy emotions in your eyes.

My mirror, my reflection.
Are we friends?, because we know each other very well.
We are the same you and I, but I wonder....
What is it like to be you?
Your conscious and thoughts lie behind a transparent wall.
Yearning for freedom, to break the thickness that separates us.
I see, I feel and live
You see,  you feel and live - me.
Same to me in every way.
My mirror, my reflection.


©  Nkazimulo Mvemve

***
Grade 11
***

Somewhere I Dare Not to Travel ~ Meleza Jali

You see

There are places,

barren places

places long deserted

places intentionally avoided



There are stories

unfathomable stories

stories left untold

stories intentionally forgotten



There are memories

harrowing memories

memories not revisited

memories intentionally buried



These places, stories, memories

I dare not to travel



These places, stories, memories

Haunt

Torment

Cripple



But,

You don’t see

that these

abandoned places,

inconceivable stories, and

veiled memories,

Constitute me.



©  Meleza Jali

***
Matriculant 2017
***

They won’t even know her name… ~ Meleza Jali

‘Be patient’

‘Simply agree and smile’

‘Try to understand’



These words

These words,  a mantra

These words her song

These words her laws

These words her chains

These words her unending pain



She questions herself

Why does it matter

Why does it bother her

Why, why, why



She searches

Her knees and hands

Scratched and bruised

She searches

Her eyes long tired

Her body  frail

Her soul depleted



… Revelation comes



She’ll tell you why



For it is her identity

For it is her story

For it tells her journey

For it is all she can claim

For it is she

It is her, it is her!

It is all she is



She can no longer be patient

She can no longer just agree and smile

She has understood



Understand that when death arrives

Her name shall be unveiled on the headstone

Understand that when death knocks

Her name shall be called and mourned

Understand that when death enters

Her name is all that shall remain



So write her name

Her name: a Right

Her name: a rite of passage



 “Melissa”


No

“Milisa”

No

“Meliza”

No

“Malaza”

No



I am Meleza

Meleza

Nothing else, just that.



© Meleza Jali

***
Matriculant 2017
*** 

Saturday 5 May 2018

The Feeling ~ Nkazimulo Mvemve

What did you do to me?
The sensuous action that you had done on me
took me to a place unimaginable.
It was one of weirdness and awkwardness
BUT I cannot deny the fact that I enjoyed it.
What did you do to me?
Placing your warm hands where I never expected
and caressing my chest like cats fur,
you took away my attention and brought a heavenly feeling upon me.
It's was like magic or getting high, it's indescribable
What did you do to me?
The fact that I still think about it and means that I cannot get over it.
The she that did wonders on me undistinguished but desirable,
rare and but expected and yet joyful and different.
What did you do to me?



©  Nkazimulo Mvemve

***
Grade 11 
***

Their Words and My Tears ~ Nkazimulo Mvemve

It saddens me to hear those words come out of someone's mouth.
Even though they might have said it without knowing it's hurts just as much.
They say don't care about what other people think ,but how am I supposed to feel if that person has a massive impact on my life.
And as if I didn't hear properly I asked if she can repeat but it was as if she really meant it.
Saying it for the second time in the same manner , it hurt even more.

I thought about it then I cried and cried and cried and cried even more , but I was never heard and I never said anything I kept the pain to myself.
All of the pain in my life I've kept to myself ,I might have told a few best friends about my problems but I don't tell them all of them.
They say you should speak to someone when you want to do something like commit suicide, but I never told them about that either, I never told anyone

I've stopped the tears for now but the words will never cease.



©  Nkazimulo Mvemve

***
Grade 11
***

Am I Better Off Without You ? ~ Nkazimulo Mvemve

To be honest I really don't know;
you've played a very important part in my life,
that whenever I think of how it would be without you
my mind will go blank.
All the things we did and all the times we spent together
feel like a very distant memory fading away day by day.
You've always brought the best out of me
and I've always brought the crazy out of you.
It's like we're perfect for each other.
It's always been that way. Nothing more nothing less.
But I can't deny the fact that it's impossible to imped the way I feel about you.
IT'S LOVE.
The love that I have for you.
And like an Oak seed that has been planted
my love for you slowly grew greater day by day.
Maybe I am, maybe I'm not.
All I know is that you're important to me.
Whether I'm better of without is irrelevant.



©  Nkazimulo Mvemve

***
Grade 11
***

Thursday 3 May 2018

Enjoy The Game: 2 Poems ~ Uwais Coetzee

Enjoy the Game


I’m tired of writing depressing stuff
But I can’t write anything instead,
Because we write what we feel and I
Feel exactly what I said.
I know why I feel this way
But I can’t tell anyone why
Or rather I don’t want to
Reveal my secrets so I
Keep them bottled and say nothing
And keep quiet all the time.
I hide my secrets and stay a mystery
And tell me, is it a crime?
Is it a crime to want to hide?
Is it a crime to stay inside?
Is it a crime to change your tide
When you feel a little tired?
To be a secret and in the shadows
And never say a thing
Because we all wish for
A reality in which we cling
To the hope and aren’t hopeless,
To the life and aren’t lifeless,
To be less tired and be tireless,
To live without pain: painless.
In which we take our joys
And portray them with a scream,
Where love goes two ways
And we work as a team,
Instead of whispering our sorrows
And are silently in pain,
To move to better options
And enjoy the game.



Don’t Drop It


We choose to keep going
Like the grains of wood
Like the clouds in the sky
Like the people that could
Have survived another moment
Have survived another day
Have survived another week
If we chose not to say
What may have been the thing
That pushed them over the cliff
That sent them over the edge
But what if, what if?
What if we weren’t so angry?
What if we weren’t so mean?
What if we could have known?
What if we could have seen?
Would it have changed the way
You saw your reflection?
Would it have changed
The mass delusional deception?
That life is good
And life is nice
And blades and ropes
Wouldn’t have to suffice
In this place where
The sky is blue and birds can fly
And tears occasionally
Fall from an eye
And I am not perfect
But if I were then
Maybe I’d have saved you
From dropping your pen.



©  Uwais Coetzee

***
Grade 12
***

Wednesday 2 May 2018

Fate's Friend: 3 Poems ~ Uwais Coetzee


Fate’s Friend




He had all the words he needed
But was silent face to face
Because the mind is virtually useless
When the heart begins to race.
She made his blood pump
And his hair stand straight
And he hoped and prayed they’d
End up together by fate.
But fate never worked like that
And fate wasn’t your friend
And if your relied solely on fate,
You’d meet an untimely end.
But one thing he knew how to do
Was poetry and how to write
And the words became his arsenal
As he slowly learned how to fight.
He stayed indoors and stayed warm
With pen and paper in hand.
And one day he mustered the strength
And slowly began to stand.
He felt powerful and invincible
And was basking in his glory
But when he looked up from his book
She was walking into another story.
He screamed and chased with tearful eyes
As she slowly walked out the gate.
Because while he was nose down in his book
She had made friends with fate.





Slow Poison


He felt it in his fingers
And the tip of his nose
And the lobes of his ears
And the webs of his toes.
In the saliva in his mouth
And the follicles of his hair
And the cracks of his skin
But she didn’t seem to care.
She never batted an eyelid
And left him with the pain
And left him all alone
Sitting in the rain.
She left him with the poison
But made sure it was slow
And as soon as it took effect
She would get up and go.
She’d fly away
Like a weddings white dove
Leaving him with the poison
But labelling it as love.





Self-Burial


The skies were blue
But his heart was grey
This contrasting factor
Left him with nothing to say.
The thoughts, however, flowed
Through his brain at a rapid pace,
Like “what if?” and “why me?”
Left tears rolling down his face.
They dripped to the very soil
Where the casket would lay
And he struggled and fought
To get the box to stay.
The scratches on the wood
And the thumping on the door
Left him kicking and screaming
Alone on the floor.
Tear stained eyes and pain stained situation
And the emotion of the moment
Made him lose concentration.
He was up with tears gone
And his thoughts had disappeared
And why he was crying at the burial
Was something he no longer feared.
The thoughts of a different future
Were something away he’d cast
Because he was now a stronger person
After burying himself, from the past.




©  Uwais Coetzee

***
Grade 12
***

Common Differences: 5 Poems ~ Uwais Coetzee

Common Differences

They were complete and polar opposites
In every single way
And neither one of them ever knew
Exactly what to say.
The both had words in their heads
And both had words on a page
But both felt trapped and neither
One knew how to escape this cage.
They came from different backgrounds,
Came from different starts.
They had different minds
Had different hearts.
They knew different torture
Knew different pain
But both knew they loved
The smell of falling rain.
In the worlds of these two people
There were different beasts to tame.
But they did have one thing in common
They knew how to love the same.



Differences

They looked at different skies,
Looked at different seas,
Knew different yous,
Knew different mes.
They walked in different parks,
Walked in different streets,
Admired different heroes,
Knew different feats.
They took different pictures
And all in different frames
And they were both players
But in different games.
With his storyline going one way,
And hers going another,
Each one needing something,
Each one needing the other.
Not knowing how to find the thing,
Never finding the other one,
Felt like looking up on a clear day
And being unable to find the sun.
Like opening a door after walking through it
And not looking before crossing the street,
Their lives weren’t perfect,
Their lives were incomplete.
It was like jelly without the jiggle
And wood without the grain
And rain without the drizzle
And love without the pain.
Like the Yin without the Yang
Like black without the white
They both needed each other
To make it through the night.
They needed to have each other
In order to feel complete
But they’d walk through life
Never, ever to meet.



Dream thoughts

He awoke
With thoughts flowing through his head
And tears causing
The stains on his bed.
Having lost the
Dreams he had
And had woken up
Feeling a lot worse than bad.
He had felt depressed,
He had felt alone,
He felt isolated and
Completely on his own
Having lost what he had
In the dreams of the past
And if anything he knew
It wouldn’t last.
Because she had disappeared
When he woke up, it seems.
And she was only his
Girl in his dreams.



Everything was worse

The wind was a little slower
And the sky, less blue
And the waves a little higher
And the clouds greyer too.
The water a bit colder
And the grass a bit dryer
And you were more tired
Because the buildings seemed higher
And protagonists
Seemed sadder
And villains
Seemed gladder
And the alleyways seemed darker
And the lights were way less bright
And everyone and everybody
Struggled through the night
And everyone seemed sadder
Until the sunrise
Because everything was worse
Until she opened her eyes.



Reflection of Reality

Her hair shone in the sun
And he compared it to liquid gold
That flowed from the lake of heaven
But he was never so bold
As to talk to the angel he saw,
The one that was in his eyes,
And whenever her saw her
In his stomach would be butterflies.
The classic old love story,
The classical love tale,
The one involving a guy and a girl
Where love would never fail.
Where roses were red
And violets were blue
And sugar was sweet
And she loved you.
Where the moon was always full
And white doves always flew
Where she claimed it was love
And it would be true.
But this was not the case
Or so I was told
And her hair wasn’t comparable
To the liquid gold
And the roses weren’t red
And the violets weren’t blue
And sadly in this case
She didn’t love you.



©  Uwais Coetzee

***
Grade 12
***

Tuesday 1 May 2018

The Black Rose: 4 Poems ~ Uwais Coetzee

The Black Rose


In a world of red, white and pink
He was The Black Rose,
Destined to be different
From head to toes.
From sky to ground
He was separate from the rest,
He was forced to excel,
He was forced to do his best,
To get the recognition
The others got easily
And he knew he had
To work harder naturally.
To be ahead,
And to be on top
He had to make them wait,
He had to make them stop.
He gained the recognition
And became the one they chose.
He was the only one.
The Black Rose.



If Only


He closed his eyes and wondered:
Would the world still be fine?
If the things that made history
Had changed along the line.
If black was just a colour
And the plague was just a flu
And the ark wasn’t buoyant
And there was always me and you.
If spiders couldn’t kill you
And Hitler hadn’t felt that way
And Da Vinci couldn’t paint,
Would we have met that day?
If tigers had spots,
If Malcom didn’t care
And King hadn’t marched,
Could I still stroke your hair?
If the sea weren’t salty
And the sky weren’t blue
And love was just a feeling,
Would I have you?



Lines


Two people,
One with a pen and one with a blade
Each person, however,
Wanted to be saved.
One knew words
And one was without
But each in a way
Was spoken about.
A heart needing love
And one that loved too much
But each one, unfortunately needed saving
As such.
Saving as we all do,
Redemption from the pain
And all we ever do
Is try to stay sane.
A pain is difficult to escape
When it’s inside your head,
When it’s inside your mind,
When it follows you to bed,
When it eats your insides
And it dwells in your heart,
When it’s so constant,
You don’t know end from start.
So, the two people,
The pen, and the blade
In each of their hearts
Pain was made.
Each with their weapon
Of choice in their hand
Each choosing Lines
To make people understand.



Nobody is You


Sometimes we feel
that we aren’t good enough
that were always at the bottom
and that we aren’t good at stuff.
But I’m here to say
that you’re perfectly you
and I’m proud that you’ve reached this point
and I’m proud that you grew.
Nobody knows your life,
Your struggles, your kin,
Nobody knows your pain,
No one’s been in your skin.
No one knows what you go through
Every single day.
No one stops to sincerely
Ask if you’re okay.
But you’ve gone through life
No matter how hard.
And you’ll be there till the end.
And you were there from the start.
And you’ll go through every trial
And come out the stronger man
And you rose from every obstacle
Screaming ‘Yes, I can’
And you’ll be there till the end
And you were there from the start.
And nobody can ever be you
And that is your art.



©  Uwais Coetzee

***
Grade 12
***

Rehab From Love: 4 Poems ~ Uwais Coetzee

Rehab from Love


I’m trying to get better,
Trying to better my mentality.
Trying to ease my hurt,
Not physically but mentally.
You didn’t hurt me
I handed myself the rope
Your perfection drew me in
But I thought I had hope.
I thought I had a chance
I thought it might work out.
I thought you’d love back
But you chose a different route.
You chose to change
And I still wonder why,
The hearts explained it all,
You chose another guy.
I know I’m imperfect
I know I’m not the best,
But you said it yourself
I wasn’t like the rest.
Didn’t you want something
Nobody else could get,
You didn’t have to worry,
Nobody else was a threat.
You could have been the Harley to my Joker,
Fit my madness like a glove,
But now I’m in the mental hospital
Getting rehab from your love.



Their Favourite Place


They hung their moth-eaten coats
On the same rack every day
As they’d quietly think
Of something to say,
Something to do,
Something to be
Not as serious as lovers
But just “you and me”.
They sat at the same table
Every week
Not touching their cell-phones
But not a word they’d speak,
Not a phrase they’d utter,
Not a breath too loud,
Their silent co-existence
Was enough in the crowd.
The steps they’d take,
The posture they’d pose,
The way he always brought
A cliched red rose.
The songs they played
And in silence they sang,
The bartender’s noises,
The same cling, same clang.
The same situation
In the place that was theirs,
The way no one pays attention,
The way no one cares.
The same broken thoughts,
The same tear-stained face,
They went on different days
To their old favourite place.



Hello


He was shy and she was reserved
And they never knew each other well
But both were in love and both were infatuated
But neither one could tell.
She was sneaky and he was sly
And they’d both stalk each other online.
They had pain and were heartbroken
But both always said they were fine.
So she went out with friends
And he locked himself away
And both were sad and broken
When daylight broke the next day.
Because she was a party animal
And him, an insomniac
And of course both desperately
Wanted to go back.
They were both still in love
But neither told the other, though,
And each was left broken each day
As they painfully left it at ‘hello’.



It Hurt the Same


He continued with his love
Even though it caused him pain
And he just soaked it in
Like the ground soaks up the rain.
But he continued to do it
And he simply didn’t care
About the pain it caused him
And it simply wasn’t fair
That she never loved him
And showed him no affection
And the unrequited love
Led him in the wrong direction.
He locked himself away
And couldn’t sleep a wink
Because the pain she left him with
Left him with a lot to think
And feel and know
All about
Because she became something
That he couldn’t live without.
He contemplated death
But contemplated life
And then wanted to
Impale himself with a knife
Because he was on his last life
In this painful game
Because the pain she left him with
And death, hurt just the same.



©  Uwais Coetzee

***
Grade 12
***

Generic Stories: 4 Poems ~ Uwais Coetzee

Generic Stories


This is a story, a generic one,
About a girl and a boy
About their lives and childhoods
Like fighting over a toy
Like throwing a general tantrum
And crying over a scraped knee
About how the lives of two individuals
Turned into a ‘you and me’
Turned into a tale of love
Turned into a tale of need
About how they wanted to love each other
But no one would take the lead.
No one would make a move,
No one would make a sound,
No one was brave enough to
See what was to be found.
Eventually they couldn’t anymore
And the time to part ways came.
They were merely players
But were forced to quit the game.



A Tale of Two Souls


A tale of two souls
Destined to meet one day
But meet is all they did
As they slowly walked away.
Both too shy
In fear of rejection.
But neither one knew,
Together they’d be perfection.
Like Yin and Yang
Like Black and White
Incomplete without the other,
In need of the sight,
In need of each other
To know wrong from right
Dark from Light
So they could win the fight.
Not against each other
But on the same team
To beat the situation
Or so it would seem.
But life isn’t perfect
And neither were they,
The discomfort of insecurity
Was always in their way.
The doubt of reality was
A real threat
But life thought they’d work,
On them she bet.
They walked away
Discarding it from their mind
And slowly they left
Their fate behind.



The Story


Today I tell the story
Of a man, of a boy.
Destroyed by humanity
And played with like a toy.
Used for pleasure
And for personal gain,
To make others feel better
While he felt the pain.
He wanted to tame the lion,
Pet the beast that was Love.
Too bad it wasn’t for him,
It didn’t fit, wasn’t his glove.
He had dreams of prosperity,
Of happiness. Of Joy,
Of longevity and money
To buy his child the toy.
Of a life better than his
Although his was not bad
He lived in a world of hyperbole
And depression came from sad
And elation came from a smile
And Love came from a like
And a papercut caused the pain of impalement on a spike
And pain became torture.
But this was the reality and
I am him and he is me
And this is the story of the boy,
You see?



Our Stories


Our stories are formed
By the words we say,
The things we do,
The games we play,
The people we meet,
The way we stay,
The way we treat others
That are lower in a way.
We go through life
‘trying to do what’s best for me’
But life isn’t about that,
you see?
Life is about how we treat others,
The ones that we meet,
The ones that greet us,
The ones that we greet.
Because we as humans
Are ‘Breaking Prone”
Because none of us, ever,
Want to be alone.



©  Uwais Coetzee

***
Grade 12
***

He Took His Own: 3 Poems ~ Uwais Coetzee

He Took His Own


He thought about her eyes
And how they were perfectly blue
And how she had an accent
The quirk when she said ‘’you’’.
Well maybe not an accent
But it was different from his own.
And how when she started sentences
It was always in a higher tone.
How her hair was straight yet curly
And it was blonde yet brown
And how the fly aways took with the wind
And were always flying around.
How her feet were small and compact
And she just had a certain poise.
How she was innocent yet broken
And always chose the wrong boys.
How she made him think so
And he thought he was right
But clearly she had other ideas
And now he struggles to sleep at night.
Now he lies awake thinking that
Maybe she’ll come back
But time was running out for this
And its not the only thing he’d lack.
She was classy and friendly
All at the same time
And he felt inferior
Like his love was a crime.
Time went on as
She found someone new
But he kept falling for her
Through and through.
He became desperate
And had not outgrown
But she carried on with life
As he took his own.



He Wanted


He had thoughts that flowed
Through his mind like the Nile.
He had words that would go
Mile after mile.
He knew that she loved poetry
And he knew that she loved art.
He wanted her to love him too
But he wouldn’t know where to start.
He wanted her to love him,
Wanted her to be his fan,
Wanted her to be his girl,
wanted to hold her hand
and play with her hair
because she was flawless
and way beyond compare.
He couldn’t say a thing
And he was struck by fear
Because his words meant nothing
If someone else was whispering in her ear.



He Wondered


He wondered about other things
In the gaps of his mind
And any other thing
That he could find.
He wondered about the sky
And the falling of the rain
He wondered about the world
And why there was pain.
He wondered about the fish
And their swimming in the sea
And he wondered about
Himself to a degree.
He wondered about his life
And where he was on his way to
And why he wanted happiness
Through and through.
But the thing that was constant
And all that he could find
Was her smile and how it
Drifted through his mind.



©  Uwais Coetzee

***
Grade 12
***

Five Sonnets ~ Uwais Coetzee

Sonnet V


She woke up one day
And she was all alone
Not physically in a way
But spiritually on her own.

Everyone had deserted her
And left her standing there
Like a social massacre
And no one seemed to care.

But everyone was waiting
For her to go off track
And then they’d return to stab her in the back.

She felt someone was waiting
As the rest carried on with their lives
And there he was, waiting, waiting, to remove the knives.



Sonnet VI


She bled out on the page,
While he bled in reality,
She acted out on stage,
And he indulged in profanity.

They were as contrasting as black and white,
But were both common in a way.
Both had feelings out of sight,
And were way too shy to say.

Both loved the other but would never
Say the word out loud,
Little did they know, both were too proud.

They continued living without ever knowing
Even the others name.
But little did they know that fate was a two-player game.



Sonnet VII


He wore lines
And she wore spots.
He admired the pines
While she took shots.

He was athletic
And she was not.
She was anything but generic
And he hurt a lot.

He knew she wasn’t his
And she knew it too
Because the first chance she got, she flew.

But they didn’t know a thing
And neither did the rest
Because birds always come back to the nest.



Sonnet VIII


All these quads and lines
And the inner workings of a tree.
But no one teaches us to pay fines
And no one says ‘be happy’.

We all learned how to read and write
And how to compose and how to add
But never why not to walk around at night
Or how to be a good mom or dad.

The school system is flawed,
They don’t teach us the right stuff
And slowly we find that life is tough.

We never learn how to live
Or even how to be strong
But all we need is math and science, am I wrong?



Sonnet IX


He wore his struggles like a coat
And ploughed through the icy snow.
He never found reason to gloat
And happiness was always slow.

He hibernated through the hardships
And waited for a better time
And bit through the frostbite
As he made the steady climb.

He struggled toward the summit
And managed to hold concentration
As he made it up the frozen nation.

He looked down
And didn’t know end from start
In these ice filled caverns of her heart.



©  Uwais Coetzee

***
Grade 12
***

For What It is Worth ~ Nkazimulo Mvemve

I never really thought that it would come to this  we were so close that if I was apart from you I felt sick, but when I was near you felt alive.
I never really thought that I would catch feelings for you. When they said we would make a cute couple we laughed, but now I wish that it would come true.
I never really saw you like that at first because you were, " just a friend " but that just turned into a" best " and that best turned into love for you in a way that was unexpected.

It was as if someone pulled a switch in my head that controlled my affection for you. Now every time I see you my heart beats, my body heats up and it's like time slows down and everything around you becomes enchanted. Like you were living a fairly tale.
I guess that it's the way you talk and how I find it soothing, or the way you laugh which I find amusing or maybe your smile and your eyes how they blend together to make a picture of upmost beauty. Or maybe the way you look at me as if  your gazing into my soul. Looking right into my innermost thoughts and being.

BUT FOR WHAT IT'S WORTH I never really told you how feel, I was scared that I'd lose you and I guess I was right. I never meant what I said I was being an idiot mocking you of your beauty. I was being a fool. I'M SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO HURT YOU. If I had the power I  change what said and compliment everything  I love about you

And for what it's worth to me please don't forget me even if you don't want anything to do with me. Losing you is like the end for me.



© Nkazimulo Mvemve

***
Grade 11
***

Blind Sight ~ Nkazimulo Mvemve

It is with a deep desire that we will follow blindly.
To get that we cannot achieve easily we will do anything.
For us it's to follow without question.
We will do anything to get that we cannot.
For us to fill our greatest desires we leave everything behind
and put on chains like slaves not knowing where we are going.
We will choose on turn our back on plans for them,
but WHY?...
Because they have what we don't, because they can persuade
our thinking and change the very thing we were planning to do.
Well I say NOT,they are very smart and they can trick you, take you for a fool,
a lab rat to experiment on and test you.
And yet we will not see the test that they had set upon us. 
If they have done that, it means they show little interest in the moments we shared.
It's SAD isn't it, the fact that we will do anything,
and yet will they even care or give an effort enough.
They are greater than us in every way, stronger, smarter
and they are given more love than money, gold or diamonds.
But I'm not writing this to talk about love.
I'm writing it to say that they are WRONG to take us for fools.
You can control us like a puppets but remember this,
they aren't the ones who are amusing the crowd.
They are given credit for their skill but crowds arrive
to watch the show not the master.



©  Nkazimulo Mvemve


***
Grade 11
***

Friday 27 April 2018

Drunk ~ Nkazimulo Mvemve

I only had a little sip just to make me tipsy.
I never thought it would go this far.
I only went there because my friend said it would be fun.
I never thought it would go this far.
There were shots after shots I was having a great time,
but I never thought you would go that far.
I had had enough my vision was blurred,
I drank so much my stomach hurt.
I had enough and I only wanted juice,
but I didn't drink that, you must have mixed the two
Now I was totally gone walking like I needed a cane.
I was about to leave then, you came,
sat and talked next to me trying to make me stay.
I listened to you hypnotizing my brain telling me things I don't even remember.
You took me to a room laid me down and said "....."
I blacked out, not for long, but for long enough that my jeans were gone.
I looked at you filled with lust ready to do me and until I'm dust.
You wanted to take away my innocence,
just because you saw I had no control over my mind and body.
But you didn't mind.
I had the strength to make you stop but I couldn't use it
I had the voice to shout for help but I burned it shouting at something else.
I had many reasons not to come in the beginning but I couldn't listen to my own intuition.
You saw my tears, and I saw your heart.
No words, no fighting.
Just a little dot that had your reflection on
showing you the monster that you never wanted to be.
You let go, I got up you brought be water but I'm not that dumb.
I left you there thinking about what you almost did.
I dressed myself... I think I did,
but I'll never forget what you almost did.




©  Nkazimulo Mvemve

***
Grade 11
***

Reality vs Fiction~ Nkazimulo Mvemve

Do you ever wonder what it's like to live in a fictional world?
To go, beyond the gates of creativity and imagination and discover a place where anything is possible.
A place better that the harsh reality we live in, where you know that imagination is only found in fictional books or movies.Or where creativity only goes as far as drawing something because your bored in class.
Do you ever wonder why we need reality?
To keep us from changing the balance, messing with life, playing GOD and creating catastrophic mutations that set back the mind of man. Something that we are not used to.
Reality is real. It's there to differentiate the Real and the Imaginary. Reality is cruel and beautiful - it's unexpected.
REALITY ALWAYS EXCEEDS FICTION,
FICTION ALWAYS ESCAPES REALITY.
The Yin and Yang that circulate round and round in an endless motion. Creating balance and setting things back to normal. The two way mirror where you can see people from both ends.
REALITY VS FICTION - parallel in every way.
Fiction - we want to dream; dreams of money, happiness, love , the future, adoration and peace.
Reality - even though we live; nightmares of poverty, sadness, hate, past mistakes, loneliness and war.



© Nkazimulo Mvemve


***
Grade 11
***

Wednesday 4 April 2018

You Are Golden ~ Marlize van der Merwe

My heart, my kindness things that are righteous
I write this poem to you, I hope that you like it.
Kissing your lips, holding your hand
You've made this broken guy into a once again wholesome man
You're sweet and kind
You're that sweetheart of mine
Like a brain tumor baby you stay on my mind.
I love hearing you laugh and seeing you smile
You've made me feel what I haven't felt in a while
Loved and appreciated
Thank you Baby I appreciate it!
This may be just the beginning I'm hoping it won't end
Thank you for keeping it real showing me others were pretend
If you need a hand baby both arms to you I will lend, extend
You're my love, my boo, my best friend
For you I am grateful
I'm hungry for your kisses
Your lips are so tasteful
What you bring to the table sure is a plate full
When it comes to your heart I sure am not playful
I will not toy with your emotions
Because Honey you fill up my world like the Oceans.


© Marlize van der Merwe

***
Grade 10
***

Poetry Writing Month

Today is the anniversary of Maya Angelou's birthday ~ 4 April ~ and I make this call to my students of poetry to pick up your pens and turn your thoughts into art. Poetry is the finest form of the written or spoken word, and everyone is capable of the achievement - be it one poem or thirty.



This is your forum. I am your editor. Send me your poems!


The Poetic Stranger


I am the worm in the heart that feeds on death
cocooned in the silk of evening tears;
I am the dormant corm deep in the bitter mire
of every deserted battlefield;
I am the black eagle, storm-divided from my mate
flying an uneven course with bent wings;
I am the rocky outcrop above the vale, the vantage
of lonely height, one misstep from the plunge;
I am the poetic stranger you may pass on the street
whose words you’ll never read.

But my mind is open wide to the page of your need;
my eyes have looked upon your death and seen release;
my heart has been dismantled, so that yours may mend;
my body I have consigned to the trenches,
to the worms’ grim feast,
so that a single creative truth
may emerge from my life’s work
like the carrion butterfly rising from the corpse of history
that knows yet how to fly and shine blue.




© K.L. Clark

***
Editor
***

Monday 2 April 2018

Thursday 29 March 2018

Thoughts on Suicide ~ Nkazimulo Mvemve

There was a time when I had had enough
There was a time when it was a bit rough
There was a place where I made a small salty puddle
There was a place where I hid my trouble
There was a day when I had my head down
There was a day when I didn't smile, when I didn't frown
There was a night where I sat in the darkness
There was a night where the stars were not seen
There was a person whom I'd miss when the time had come
There is a memory I have that can never be undone.

I saw the rope in my head
I saw the knife in my bed
I thought of all the ways to stop my heart
Spill my blood
Break my neck, spine,
And anything else that is tied to my life.

There was a moment when time slowed down
I imagined the gun in my hand
The gun near my head
the barrel on my skull and trigger pulled back.

I imagined death, my death
I saw myself fall with my eyes closed
Very slowly, with a hard thump
The pool of red grew
I looked at my lifeless body: no pulse, no breath, nothing...

I came back and saw my surroundings: the green, the blue, the yellow
And the colourful land in front of me was rich with life.
I thought of the funeral: who will attend and who will not?
Who will put effort into making salty water because of heavy emotion?
Who will be there when I go down?
Who will shovel sand on my new home?
Who will decorate my new patch with bright colourful flowers?
Who will miss me?
So suicidal...




© Nkazimulo Mvemve

***
Grade 11
***

Our Tales - Luyanda Mbatha

We have entered the night to tell our tales
             Dressed all in black,
Only our eyes and teeth could be seen
             Armed with ideas in mind
Darkness was our only hope to find a solution.
So, burning of tyres brought light
            And vision to our destiny.

We had been silent for a very long time,
            They had forgotten all about us.
It was because our dilemma had been ignored.
We had to remind them, that we are
            Still hungry for free basic education.
The generation of our grandparents
            Fought for our rights.
Blood was spilled, for us to have
            A bright future but yet they still act
            Irresponsibly towards us.

The burning desire of reaching our destiny
            Has chased away fear
But we know that we would not cross
The night without the company of the police.

After hearing sirens, we ran for our lives.
           Gunshots followed with rubber bullets
Grenades had already been thrown at us.
           As the youth, the majority had entered the night
To tell their tale, but only the minority remained
           To tell our tale.




©  Luyanda Mbatha

***
Grade 11
***

Wednesday 28 March 2018

Tale of the Disillusioned Nation ~ Sphelele Majola

We have entered the night to tell our tale
The tale of a disillusioned nation:
the cellphone orientated,
brand-wearing,
SWAG-obsessed generation.

The ones who hide behind status updates
and the most recent trends,
in an attempt to feel important,
to feel loved and appreciated.

But, this kind of attention is temporary and fake.
Sure, it gives momentary satisfaction
and, somehow, happiness. It also has
a lifespan that is outlived by a fruit fly.

They go through all of this, just to have
disappointment, pain and depression
as the fruits of their labour,
and barely achieving anything.

Yet through it all they still persist,
work harder to make their mark.
Whether it's for the right reasons
or the wrong ones.

At the end of it all, what really matters
is not the reason behind their pursuit
but the fierce determination to keep on pushing
regardless of their circumstances.

Their 'never-give-up' attitude
is a trait that most have all but lost
to slow progress and
difficulties on their journeys.

This tale shines a light
on those who keep fighting against all odds,
never giving up,
with a greater and more worthy purpose in mind.

This is for our modern day gladiators
whose past is mightier than the sword.


© Sphelele Majola

***
Grade 11
***

We Have Entered the Night ~ Philisiwe Mavundla

Of how thankful we are to our descendants
that they have carved our path
changed our future
and rearranged our stars.

But you have taken that away from me
told the past as my story
and refused me the right to be
reborn.

We are a new chapter
although still separated by stereotypes.
Stereotypical you.
Stereotypical me.
That is not who we want to be.

We want to be engines which
drive our world to a new beginning.
This is the big responsibility
and I tell you
we fear failure.



© Philisiwe Mavundla

***
Grade 11
***

Generations ~ Kyle Don-Wauchope

We have entered the night to tell our tale
to hear the chanting rise of dawn,
and as our icy breath warms the air
we, shall watch the caterpillar hatch out its box.

We have entered the night to whisper our stories
to nourish the ground with our blood.
Then, as the tree grows taller and the roots dig deeper,
our bones will once again merge with the land
to create a foundation of choice.

We have entered the night to sing our call
to cry our banding howl for the moon.
Then, before our stars begin to dim - we march -
in the dark,
in the shadow,
in silence.

We have entered the night to tell our tale.
We, have left yesterday
behind.



© Kyle Don-Wauchope

***

Grade 11
***

We have entered the night to tell our tale ~ Ayanda Sithole

Where betrayal is breaking just another nail
A generation that has fallen into a completely new lane
Where cans and bottles can suddenly heal pain

People wearing different masks each day to fit the mood
Where the only beauty is really nude
Love overpowered by lust
And fitting in is a must

Where one's misery
Is another's victory
Where one's open doors of happiness
Are shut closed with giant locks of bitterness

Maybe this was not such a good tale after all


© Ayanda Sithole

***
Grade 11
***

We Have Entered the Night ~ Viyanka Moodley

We navigate our lives
Desperately searching for unknown territory

Meandering lanes of treachery and deceit
Where wealth is prioritized and righteousness, the enemy
Health is secondary to life's pitiful pleasures

As uncertainty develops
Man's existence
We look, we wonder

We hope, we expect
Glossing the reality
We dare not admit

For fear of the truth
We refuse to accept

Our disastrous existence
Remains ours to decide!



©  Viyanka Moodley

***
Grade 11
***

You'll Never Stop Her ~ Jowairiyya Khan

Shattered glass
Broken hearts
Lost souls
Scattered thoughts
Fallen stars
Crushed goals

Could she take anymore?
getting out of bed was a battle
The world felt like a blazing fire
Her bed, her dreams, her world...
was her sanctuary
She hoped soon people would present her obituary

She’s struggling...
Maybe with a little caring ;
She would find her way.
But that’s too hard for you
I mean, after all you think this will pass like a little flu?

Don’t worry.
Not anymore
Soon she’ll be gone

not because that lady soul wilt be reaped
But because she will fight
Without you,
She will ignite that spark that lives inside her

And when she’s on fire
Being the best she can be
Mark my words
You will never be higher.


©Jowairiyya Khan

***
Grade 11
***

Imploration ~ Ashleigh Skinner

don't turn your back
don't close that door
are you not waiting for me anymore.

the promises we made
the love you gave
do you expect me to believe it just goes away.

with every step
you're losing me
and everything we could have been.

we preached true love
and eternity
playing house with a family.

where'd that dream go
of you and me
it's not my fault I didn't mean to cheat.

I said I was sorry
can't you see
she didn't mean anything like you and me.

don't turn your back
don't close that door
guess there's no us anymore.


© Ashleigh Robin Skinner

***
Grade 12
***

Saturday 24 March 2018

Silent For Too Long ~ Natasha de Jong

We've been silent for too long. We plead.
We. The different. Hiding away.
Listen to us.
In our minds we no longer exist.
We.
It is our empty souls
our empty souls longing for something to fill the void.
We do not choose to feel like this. It's the way of life.
Stop hiding in the dark. Come out!
Our tears are falling watering the outside, draining the inside.
Fellow students, parents, friends.
it is written on white paper
yet, our generation is still dying.
People, we have cried for help.
People, stop walking around with closed eyes, closed hearts.
People, open up!
Listen to us, look at us, help us.
Look into the hollowness of our eyes.
The darkness of our souls.
Listen to us. We plead.
We have entered the night to tell our tale.
We hope you have heard us.
I hope you have heard me.
We are among you, we sit next to you.
Your sisters, brothers, friends, classmates.
Do not let us fade, no - not again.
Save us. Save our tears.
Save our soul. My spirit.
Save me.



© Natasha de Jong


***
Grade 11
***

We Have Entered the Night to Tell Our Tales ~ Sibongile Maseko

We have entered the night to tell our tales

For we have longed to chant
our secrets to an audience we relate to
but we could not bear to do so
in the presence of the scintillating sun.

We have entered the night to tell our tales

Tales of the shameless;
tales of the rebellious;
tales of the demented;
tales of the insipid
in their eyes.

In the eyes of the morally upright
we bring shame.

And so

We come together
to comfort
to understand
to listen
to accept one another
because we are alike

We have entered the night to tell our tales.



© Sibongile Maseko

***
Grade 11
***

We Enter the Night to Tell Our Tale ~ Erin van Niekerk

We enter the night to tell our tale
about us females -
You say all we do is text away
or paint our nails every day
but let the truth unveil
for we women are as delicious as a cocktail
so sweet and nice
but we can knock you down like you slipped on ice.
We women hold the power to give birth to the next generation
who might stop war and exploitation
while we are here we will stand tall
never again will we fall
we will rise up until the stars
because that is what we are.
We women are queens
looking amazing in our jeans -
It's okay to admit that when we sway
we slay!
But appreciate us for our minds
not our behinds
because we are the ones who know when to put down the guns
and that might just save your future son.
We are more than just an object.
We deserve respect.
So what if we text every day?
Don't forget to message, hey...




© Erin van Niekerk

***
Grade 11
***


We Enter the Night ~ Khwezi Dladla

We enter the night to tell our tale
a tale in which we never fade

of kids who have mental illnesses
but put up a facade

of poor parents who have kids
that have rich dreams
but can't afford to believe in them

of people who are the walking dead
living, breathing and walking but their souls
have already faded.

This is for the people who work 9 - 5
but can't even put food on the table to survive.

This poem is for all the people
that suffer in silence
for their voices, they scream the loudest.



© Khwezi Dladla


***
Grade 11
***

We Have Entered the Night ~ Nhlakanipho Magasela

Crime, violence, abuse
The story of people's lives matter
Yet people seem to act as if it is normal
Now those things seem like history

No one with the courage to talk
Tales are told by the people who need to speak
His story is about the violence and abuse of a man
His life doesn't matter as people judged him

How can a woman abuse him?
He has told the tale as many have
At the end of the tunnel there is hope
A new life without the crime and abuse



©  Nhlakanipho Magasela

***
Grade 11
***

Friday 23 March 2018

We Have Entered the Night to Tell Our Tale ~ Siphelele Khumalo

It was dark
sitting with Mrs Clark
too late to mark
so we chose to embark
to tell our tales in the dark.

Some tales were told as fairy tales
that lit up the darkness of the night -
we had food but couldn't take a bite.

Some tales were horrific
so I thought about it chronic
I told mine
and they thought I was psychotic
which was ironic
because I thought I was iconic
yet I was only toxic.

We entered the night to tell our tales
so we told on
with no light on
we all listened
we all spoke
we all told our tales as we entered the night.





© Siphelele Angel Khumalo

***
Grade 11
***

Bombastic Affection ~ Mangaliso Xaba




Looking at this Lady I got so confused,
Don't get me wrong, not because I despise her or being rude.
It's just that she looks so familiar
Her eyes, Her smile, Her lips,  Her melodic voice,
The way she walks, everything about her in Particular.
I have to state this, she is so Peculiar.
A soul in possession of pure uniqueness,
One could tell by the way she dress.
Observing her outer beauty is making my thoughts run wild,
She is just a one of a kind.
Evaluating her inner beauty is making my world spin around,
A lady like her, one will never find.
Her personality is so fine.
If I could literally give my heart to her to depict my affection,
That's a sacrificial offering I would never mind.



© Mangaliso Xaba - MangzNation


***
Grade 12
***

What Happens Next? ~ Naadir Vorajee

Why do we learn?
Why do we grow?
Where do we see ourselves?
Where do we want to go?

Look at us... Moving toward...
with no idea of where we came from.

I am lost

A traveller under a cloudy sky
A saviour in chains
A boy whose freedom's bound by mind
where it only rains

I'm a merchant that has none to sell
But only perfect dreams
A runner that has no legs
A boy whose tears fill streams...

I'm painter that uses black and white
A carpenter of souls
A boy that wants to differ the world
A boy that's full of holes

Oh why do I still want to write?
What get I from this?
perhaps these lines that bound my pen
is freedom that I miss...



© Naadir Vorajee

***
Matriculant 2013
***

Saturday 3 March 2018

Love Lost ~ Mangoliso Xaba

MangzNation



Standing  in front of the mirror
Hyped up due to thoughts of love roaming in mind.
Not believing that she’s really mine.
I remember telling her that I really dig her,
She told me to stop digging as she’s not mine.
Anyways I don’t mean to brag but
Her body is a major skew line,
Curves in all the right places.
I love her and would never trade her for a dime.
She’s my number one, well the rest shall follow.
A beautiful soul and my shoulder to cry on.
But as I deeply stare at my reflection on the mirror,
I can feel the lyrics of love play softer and slower in my head.
I then realise my dimples start to fade.
All because Real Love was Lost, and Lust was Found.



MangzNation



© Mangaliso Xaba [MangzNation]

***
Grade 12
***

Forever in my Heart ~ Sibongile Maseko

We were just having fun, weren't we?
Those moments werw like a key,
A key to unlock a door full of amazing memories
We didn't even care about our low batteries

All we cared about was seizing the moment
Who knew our time together would be so potent?
We thought nothing in the world could keep us apart,
Our last memory together is engraved in my heart


© Sibongile Maseko

***
Grade 11
***

When I First Met You ~ Marlize van der Merwe

When I first met you,
I was all in a trance,
I told you my secrets,
you told me yours.

I bet you thought I'd never love you,,
who would have thought.
We would be more than just friends,
I got to know the real person you.

A soul so caring, a soul so dear,
with a heart so true, your love so pure.
You are the wings that fly me to the moon,
I'll never leave, I'll rather stay,

Because of the feelings, I have for you.
You're my shining star, in life's blue sky,
and sometimes, I wonder, is this all so true?

So I've decided,
time will tell.
If we're to be,
Time will reveal, what lies ahead.

But always remember,
what I am saying.
Meeting you, has changed my life,
I truly love you.

the feelings I feel, I feel for you,
I'll never let you go.
I need you so,
you'll always be
the one for me.


© Marlize van der Merwe

***
Grade 10
***

Wednesday 7 February 2018

"She wants to travel..." ~ Jowairiyya Khan

Untitled


She wants to travel
She wants to experience all the amazing qualities of this universe
She wants to feel the autumn wind on her fragile skin
She wants to feel the ocean wash away her sins
She wants to feel the roughness of the sand rub against her body
She wants to taste the almost icy looking salt on her lips
She wants to jump off a cliff...
to feel an adrenaline kick
She wants to do so many things

Yet , her sorrows , sins and anxiety stop her

When she’s on the edge
When she’s about to move
When she’s about to jump
Her mind says no
She is confined in her own little bubble
With No explanation as to why she can’t...

Strange thing
having to suffer and not know why...

The unknown monster puts her life on hold,
Keeps her chained like an animal
It makes her feel like she can live
Although, when she takes a step forward
It makes her take five steps back,
According to him
The confidence she lacks

Peculiar thing it is to live with
But I suppose without struggles
Life would just be a myth.


©  Jowairiyya Khan

***
Grade 11
***

Sunday 28 January 2018

Antarctica ~ Naadir Vorajee

Poetry Without Words...


With Permission
Naadir Vorajee

"This place is unbelievably beautiful in its harshness."


With Permission
Naadir Vorajee

"Down South"


South African base in Antarctica
With Permission
Naadir Vorajee


Naadir Vorajee

***
Matriculant 2013
***