"Lyrics From Lockdown" - High School

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Amani Cassim

High School Grade 11 Age: 17

Poem: The Ghost’s Lullaby

There once was a girl

and her mother did say,

“Dear daughter of mine,

you must Father obey.”

He took her away

and the girl did not know

her mother was sleeping

where flowers did grow.

So, when Father told her,

“Go down to the shed,”

she thought of dear mother

and did as he said.

The young girl, oblivious,

in the shed did wait

for Father to arrive

and decide her fate.

Buried in a grave

beneath the flowers and sand,

She went to sleep

holding her mother’s hand.

But every quiet night

one hears her pained screams,

and if you just listen,

she'll visit your dreams.

Be still, be calm

and close heavy eyes,

Dream as I sing you

The Ghost’s Lullaby.

---

Michelle Maluleke

High School Grade 11 Age: 17

You can't miss it

The wails of the passing sirens are blisters to the black ear

They are like piercing daggers, knives held by notorious fingers

The black night and frequent fiery fights further from us,

Is what my brother and I try to evade, try to escape

Every single excruciating hour of our new tiresome lives

Tears from his eyes are reminders that mom and dad are missing

Not exactly missing, but these stories keep him grounded

It is the only thing that will get him to depressing sleep

Well assured that nightmares beyond these walls wait for him

The prayers I pray to dim his sorrows are like an anthem or hideous hymn

The tapping of our feet every early morning sound the lit streets

I promise you it is like drowning every time my knees fail

Short of breath and bloodshot eyes dissuade me to continue

Yet I try to take time to tell him not to cry, but all I say is another lie

Another flaw making me more of a demon than a sister

I don't know why I keep clinging onto non-existent hope

The sun never shines, all we have are mourning times

Thinking deeply maybe our next move is ending lines

Or if murdering that monster will add to my crimes

Contemplating maybe my Mom might awaken and take us away

But No. No! I ran away from home on an excursion to find freedom

But bit by bit below I wade through my sins, a lake of blood, of toxins

I told myself that I will be strong and stride on

I forced myself to get up every time I fell and wipe his tears away

I knew he'd complain but I will survive, we'll survive and thrive...

Strive to make it in life because no sister leaves a brother behind

I will keep my gory past away from my face and incinerate it

Let it catch fire so that I never fear for whatever may come

I convinced myself to tell tears to never taint Tyler's face again

Because black girls have fire within without wounds to let it all burn to ashes.

Something nobody ever knew to believe.

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Trevyn Warries

High School Grade 12 Age:18

Poem: PERFEÇTÍØN

I see perfection in my reflection

A statement seldom heard because of a broken perception

We follow trends to be accepted

To match preconceived ideas of beauty we're scared to question

This fear is self-destructive when the trend is depression

We look at the phone and treat it like window to the world

Since when does a trend determine your worth‽

Why do we chase stars to fill our space of hurt‽

Treat dreams as prescriptions

For a reality distant

Inconsistent

Diverting so far from the scriptures

Perfection is not found in our systems

But to seek it may be fate

Maybe destiny's too late

No mistakes to made, perfection said to the brain

So we dream of something real to combat that reality is fake

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Nomlindi Louw

High School Grade 12 Age: 18

Poem: Rook

my chess pieces,

I am your king,

RESPECT ME

for me, you will die

I am the last standing

a knight falls.

a pawn knocked over.

a bishop sacrifices

still, I stand.

a queen gives of itself

it defends me, defends the kingdom

putting itself in danger,

courageously

soon, the queen is tired

it falls down

so my pawn will go to the other side

and soon, I will have another

I am your king

look at how you fall,

just to save me

I am you king,

wash my feet

I am your king

deny me never

I am your king,

look at how you serve me

I will pay you with money

you will pay with your life

I am the head of this household,

RESPECT ME

you are my chess pieces

I am your king

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Trevyn Warries

High School Grade 12 Age: 18

Poem: Poetry

POETRY

Is that the solution?

Expressive life lessons

Painted in beauty with words as bristles

Unrequited artwork slowly showcasing wisdom

Shackled bodies of art

MINDS that run free

EYES that read, swim in oceans

EXPLOSIVE overdosing on literature potions

TESTED

QUESTIONED

Disregarding intentions of POETS

Imprisoned words of art

Behind bars for 30 marks

Should you fail, they fail to understand

POETRY

ARTWORK

NOT syllabus made to understand

Born to paint the ways of man

Poets had a different plan

POETRY 

Similar to hearts that beat

Words to unlock the heART in me

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Amani Cassim

High School Grade: 11 Age: 17

Poem: Unrecognisable

One of the most amazing things about human beings is our ability to adapt to change. We normalise everything that becomes continuous enough to ignore, or at least dismiss without a second thought. We “get used to it”.

We got used to police brutality.

We got used to gender based violence.

We got used to a c*rr*pt government.

We got used to racism and discrimination.

We've gotten used to staying indoors, social distancing, sanitising, wearing masks and overall living through a global pandemic!

Well, perhaps not all of us have quite gotten used to that yet.

We've gotten used to a lot, as humanity, which in itself is a discussion for another day. A day when I don't feel the courage to be selfish enough to talk about myself.

I've adapted to change, too. It's amazing, really.

I used to care so much for others that I would cry their tears. Fear their fears. I took on their burdens in an attempt to lighten their load, and as a result, my arms overflowed with deep pain that wasn't even mine.

Escaping pain is never easy. Pain against pain wouldn't end the war within me. Though I put blood and tears into my happiness, I barely got a slice for myself.

My heart had become an accessory; a cufflink on my sleeve. Vulnerability is not a weakness, but I had become consumed by my sorrow and desperation to be loved and adored. Desperation to be recognised.

Judgement clouded by opportunity. Decisions that I should have thought through a bit more.

I lost touch with myself, and worst of all, with those that I love. Quickly, I realised just how easily they can be taken away from me.

Perspective, I believe, plays a huge role when adapting to change. Coming to terms with the fact that things aren't always as you thought they were. Life doesn't play out the way you picture it. Sometimes, you need to adapt to what life becomes, and change.

Change is a terrifying word, because of what it encompasses. Being uprooted from a place of comfort, and planted into an unfamiliar and unrecognisable environment. Some flowers need to be replanted in order to grow. So, let's not call it change. Let's call it growth.

Sometimes, you need to adapt to what life becomes, and grow.

Keep moving forward. Keep reaching up to the skies, and wishing on shooting stars until you make your own dreams come true. Believing that you will grow so tall that you reach even your daydreams, lightyears away. Fertilizing the earth with the past. Blooming in the most unlikely of spaces.

Spending your days on the things that you believe matter. Spending your time with the people you love, and love you wholeheartedly in return.

I have no regrets, though I have made many mistakes, for every choice has brought me to where I am today. The person I am today. I like this person.

In a life so short, there is no time to dwell on the cuts and bruises of the past when the future is waiting so anxiously to be explored! We've gotten too used to time; thinking that ours will never end.

Coming to this realisation has made me reflect on myself. Evaluating my actions throughout my short 17 years with a beating heart. I needed to change. I needed to grow.

Tell me, am I unrecognisable?

Do you still know who I am?

Can you accept that the version of me you thought you knew is a part of my archive?

Are you willing to recognise me, for the person I have become? For the person I've waited too long to be?

Or am I unrecognisable?

---

Azotha Zwane

High School Grade: 10 Age: 16

Poem: How it would have felt without you gone

Background song: Old Sea Brigade - Love Brought Weight

I wonder how it feels

How it feels to sit under a spring blossoming tree with you

Laughing about how crazy life can be

I wonder how it feels

How it feels to watch the sunset with you

Letting hours pass by as our souls entwine

I wonder how it would have felt

How it would have felt if you didn’t leave

Still next to me telling me everything is going to be okay

Smiling, Laughing

How your laugh would always take away the worries of the day

Reminding me I’m home

Reminding me I’m home

Your laugh would take away the worries of the day

Smiling, laughing

Still telling me everything is going to be okay

Letting hours pass as our souls entwine

Watching the sunset with you

Laughing about how crazy life can be

As we sit under a blossoming spring tree

I wonder how it feels

How it would have felt

without you gone

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Azotha Zwane

High School Grade: 10 Age: 16

Poem: Yin Yang

Life is a Yin and Yang.

There is always good in something bad,

and there is always something bad in something good.

This pandemic has made a lot of us lose faith,

because the future is fuzzy.

The real question is, wasn't the future always fuzzy?

The future is a mystery

and that is what makes most of us feel anxious.

We don't know how much time we have left on this earth,

but what we know is that we can make the best of it.

Wake up with the trees and the birds tweeting

and appreciate everything and everyone around you.

Keep going on, even when it is the hardest

Your future self will be proud of your present self.

A flower needs both rain and sun to grow.

"After every storm, there is a rainbow. If you have eyes you will find it. If you have wisdom, you will create it. If you have love for yourself and others you won't need it" (Shannon L. Alder)

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Azotha Zwane

High School Grade: 10 Age: 16

Poem: Soul (الروح)

Soul. Consciousness. Thinking.

Incorporeal essence of a living being.

Love. Balance. Wisdom.

Now you ask, what has this got to do with death?

Loss. Pain. Death.

IT turns us into presocratic thinkers.

Focus ‘thee’ on light when darkness is present.

Frequency. Living.

Faith. in who you are, the universe will take you far.

The universe has made choices, events that occurred since its birth to shape your destiny

when you leave.

Love without love is like a tree without fruit

You know how it goes

"Love does not look with the eye but with the mind" (William Shakespeare)

Nourishing the soul and obtaining profound peace.

A giggle of a loved one or simple touch

no longer ‘thee’ can see them.

"Even though you cannot see it or feel it, the love is never gone just enfolded." (Murray from the movie ‘Wrinkle in Time’)

Faith. Living. Frequency.

Death. Pain. Loss.

Wisdom. Balance. Love

Thinking. Consciousness. Soul

is what continues after the vessel is no more.

---

Amani Cassim

High School Grade: 11 Age: 17

Poem: Love Song For the Cold

Summer’s here, Winter’s gone for the day,

The sun appears to keep the darkness at bay,

When you're here, every day is summer.

Skies are grey, but we don't mind any rain,

Could you please stay and occupy my brain?

When you're here, it feels like summer.

Sweet embrace, like a blanket wrapped ‘round me,

In this space, you're my only reality,

When you're here, I feel like summer.

Any time I spend with you,

it’s warm inside like summer’s due,

I don't need a sun to shine,

I'm guaranteed that I’ll be fine.

I'll be fine.

---

By Hope Nesengane [Pseudonym: Hope Lee]

High School Grade: 12 Age: 17

Poem: Her way of thinking

Her way of thinking

Was decaying.

The world had

Infested and corrupted her thought process.

Docile to the world’s way of thinking,

She was duped and robbed of her

Own intellectual capabilities;

A chance to think for herself.

A wise woman once said:

If you allow your free will to be consumed by other

People’s opinions,

A part of you dies.

And indeed a part of her did die.

Having surrendered,

She lost herself.

Displaced.

...

But that was then. And now she is

Stronger,

Wiser,

And with every part of her very much alive,

Because she knows better than to allow her free will to be taken away.

She’s her own person.

Detached from the people’s

Perspectives and perceptions.

Her way of thinking

Is blossoming.

The world fails to

Infest and corrupt her thought process.

Written on the 8th of June 2020.

To Her.

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Ofentse Reitumetse Tladi

High School Grade: 12 Age: 17

Poem: A Writer's Agony

You made them,

thought by thought,

dream by dream,

idea by idea

and yet they still stand,

waiting for a purpose.

You've drawn them from past experiences,

sculptured them from the very people you know

and dug out of them emotions you fear

to dig out of yourself.

They have become your escape,

your new reality.

Sometimes you hate them,

sometimes you love them

but most of all you live by them.

You write

and write

and write

Thoughts flow,

ideas come to paper,

your face beams

until suddenly

its all blank.

They come to you every now and then,

nagging,

begging,

whispering their miserable lives on hold.

You made them,

thought by thought,

dream by dream,

idea by idea

and yet through all of this

They still stand,

waiting for a purpose.

---

Ofentse Reitumetse Tladi

High School Grade: 12 Age: 17

Poem: Thoughts

When a new person enters your life,

you feel refreshed.

You forget about the past and focus

on the moments of your present

life with the person.

You believe and hope that it won't

be the same.

That somehow there will a happy

ending even though they have to

leave eventually.

That somehow you'll be happy

and not regret the time spent with them.

That somehow you'll remember

each other and know it was good

while it lasted.

That somehow, even after the

ending, you still believe.

You still believe in love, patience,

good, miracles.

You still believe in soulmates

and that you have an incredible one.

You cherish life, laugh and cry, look

into the mirror and send kisses

to yourself.

You know that everything has its purpose

and everything has its time.

You wait for the next entrance and

enjoy the time being.

---

Anye Khuyu Motheo Tuma

High School Grade: 11 Age: 16

Poem: 2020 Vision

My 2020 vision got me looking forward

Looking back, never that

It may have taken a few cries

But with these same eyes we stay focused on the prize

Because of the tears,

I've come to a point of realisation

That I'm destined for greater things

And 2020 is the beginning of a life, a journey to all the blessings coming

Life has taken me through hell on Earth

But I can't lie, it could've been much worse

I can see 2020 from beginning to end

And it will be a favourable year for me and my family

We all have a Destiny

It will take a lot of sweat and hard grinding

But at the end of the day it will be worth the work

So stop all the winning

Focus on your dreams and never allow yourself to get side-tracked

Don't be discouraged by the negative words thrown at you

Because they will come

Haters will love seeing you low so, that they can see you eye to eye

Cause that's the level they're at

But shine bright

To level so high

Making the only easy thing for them to do

Is look up to you

They will hate

But always keep faith

Because there's a Lord above us that could never forsake.

---

Lesego Lefifi

Grade: 11 Age: 17

Poem: Creamy Coffee [a poem about my parents]

with his knopkierrie

he marched, a single man

through the evergreen grass

sweet smelling in the crisp early breeze

letsasti la rona peeped over the fields

swarming the land with its warm embrace

overwhelmed by the sun

the man peeled off his drenched old shirt

exposing his dark, coffee-brown skin

engulfed in his dewy sweat

glistening as it endured the kisses of the African sun

in the village

lived a soft featured lady

with creamy skin

she strode into the kraal

she was as proud as her cloudy textured dark brown hair

she sat on the stoel beside her beefy companion

and tugged at its plump pink udder

until her bucket was full

and she ventured back to the lapa

he lost concentration of his labour

as he could hear the wishy-washy sound of lobese

so he turned

he stretched his arm across his face

attempting to reject the passionate African sun from his eyes

while she strode across the plain

her nose caught a whiff

of the rich coffee bean aroma

and synchronously their eyes met

when you live in Africa

Romance doesn’t smell like roses under the stars

it smells like creamy coffee at dawn

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Ofentse Reitumetse Tladi

High School Grade: 12 Age: 17

Poem: Time

You told her you love her

Like lovers do

But this time was different

Unlike all the other times.

She told you she loved you

Almost all the time

But this time was different

Unlike all the other times.

You told her you need her

Like lovers do

But this time she didn’t

Unlike all the other times.

She told you she let go

Of all those times

But this time you didn’t

Unlike all the other times.

---

Kuhle Sompunzi

High School Grade: 9 Age: 14

Poem: Tightrope

Life is like walking on a tightrope

Especially if you fear

Fear the views and opinions of others

Then unfortunately the end is near

The end of your happiness and peace

Well I guess we can’t all have a powerful statement piece

If you think about it

if you just had the courage to walk the tightrope without the fear to fall

My love you would be far more ahead than them all

Because the worst that can happen has already happened inside your head

Time and time again

So let loose be free and allow yourself to breathe the air

Because you are the only creator of your despair

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Ofentse Reitumetse Tladi

High School Grade: 12 Age: 17

Poem: Mindful Power

The mirror said it all –

everything she never wanted to hear.

She'd try blocking out her eye drums,

taking it down from the wall

but it was as if the wall, the chair,

the table, the everything spoke the same language.

They were all against her,

each object.

Mocking her, shaming her, breaking her,

abusing her.

The chair would squash her and make her

feel uncomfortable.

The table would squeeze her and accommodate

limited space for her thighs,

The bed would make sounds and movements

as she sat and

the floor would stare back, gifting her with the

shadow she despised with her whole being.

The mirror said it all –

everything she needed to hear.

She'd try blocking out her eye drums,

taking it down from the wall

but the truth is, she wasn't clearly listening.

No object was ever against her.

Mocking her, shaming her, breaking her,

abusing her.

It was all her.

Her mind, her power.

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Bophelo Omphile Magoro

High School Grade: 8 Age: 14

Poem: Overcomer

Nothing can put you down

Or place your face into a frown

You are beauty all around,

And know how to stand your ground

You overcome,

You are the one

That puts pure bliss into life itself

You are the overcomer!

---

Michelle Maluleke

High school Grade: 11 Age: 16

Poem: Calm…

My newfound floral dress emanates the decrepit stone and ruin

The desert sun ruthlessly aims its arrows still,

but still... I stand still silently seeing the world rotate

It spins solitude with the moon its mate

It knows annihilation shall saunter its coldest avenues

But I am still so very young, clueless, wild and vindictive

I was once pretty beautiful but now I lost colour

Fourteen more years made me duller

Sixteen is yet to come over to my road still

Time hasn't diminished my youth nor stole my rhythm just yet...

But I have come from far just to accept, except

My newfound floral dress won't shine well

The former sheen will dull away

But still, the world will spin

I'll take time to be fine

Even if I be a ruin

I will take it...

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Lesego Lefifi (17)

High School Grade: 11 Age: 17

Poem: A girl is a Gun

She is a shiny loaded pistol

As benign as the clouds

Romanticised by the menaces

As parodies of other menaces

On the silver screen

Glorified by pools of more menaces

As they watch with blind mind

She is here to protect

Yet Her value is scorched

And Her power is abused

She protested by empty faces

But She cannot cry

As Her cries open voids

And those voids bring immortality

She cannot scream

As Her screams are followed by silence

She is deafening

Oh so deadening

She is villainised

By the (men)aces who choked her

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Michelle Maluleke

High school Grade: 11 Age: 16

Poem: Regress

Within, desolation ruined the delicate soul I praise

Yet you managed to revive yourself and keep your faith in place

Desolation, well acquainted with depression, became desperate

Mimicking the daintiness of my skin at a quick rate...

I was ambushed by fright right then when you surrendered

Shivering, I took flight into the snow despite my heart being hindered

Earnestly seeking help, I flew through the rough winds

I got shot on my right wing, and sank side-first painting crimson prints

Nonetheless, I trudged through the gelid ice, clutching my wings back

Nevertheless, I sprinted, a masterpiece in the snow with red and black

Regardless of the imminent, ill-boding night, I wiped my tears

My soot black dress, dear, tore shred-to-shred with my final fears

My footsteps were slowing down too quickly

Dropping like ravens, my eyes mimed the dying sky briskly

The action was too sudden, the motion wasn't... right

The air was too thick... It was too dark a night...

Suddenly, an arrow pierced my heart and pushed my soul out

Leaving behind the sombrely sung song stolen by the surging death cloud

---

Ofentse Reitumetse Tladi

High School Grade: 12 Age: 17

Poem: Wave

She soars, rises,

consumes, defeats.

nothing stops her,

keeps her

for she is heard

from a mile away.

People scatter at her presence,

Drown in her touch.

Death lurks upon the brave

and reminds them of her power.

The sea carried her,

great majesty

for she is an unforgettable

beauty.

Who dares to question her power?

for even the mountains know of

her glory.

The wind pushes her

to greater heights

and she shows no

remorse for those

hindering her.

The sea carries her,

great majesty

for who knows,

a beauty like her?

---

Ofentse Reitumetse Tladi

High School Grade: 12 Age: 17

Poem: A Dreamer's Gift

Its 2am and she’s up,

desperately searching for moments to relive,

creativity to re-spark

She closes her eyes,

clutches the two rings of her headsets

and dives deeper and deeper into her world of imagination.

Here there’s no rules.

Here she's able to live, laugh, love and pass

through every limitation reality bounds her by.

Here she is happy.

Dazed by her capacity to feel so free,

so unthreatened.

Here she finds a gift.

A dreamer's gift.

One boxed by the creativity of her mind,

wrapped by the straps of her music

and decorated by the colour of the night.

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