Secondary School - Poems

1ST PRIZE
THE SLEEPING VOLCANO

“Iron the clothes

Mop the floor

Wash the dishes

Cook my lunch

Tie my shoelaces

Feed the baby

Bathe the dog

Clean the windows

Polish the car”

All day long,

Ma’am hollers at me.

 

Ma’am slaps me,

Searing tears burn my cheeks.

Ma’am kicks me,

And insults me.

 

The sleeping volcano is once again

Aroused from her sleep.

Molten lava boils deep within.

Bubble, sizzle, bubble.

 

The shouting continues,

The red serpents dance.

Waiting impatiently to be released.

 

Ma’am pinches me,

Pulls my hair.

Through gritted teeth,

This I will bear.

But now,

Acrid fumes fill the air,

As the serpents wait to be freed from their lair.

 

She rains insults on my family.

Now she has gone too far.

The pressure builds up,

Lava threatens to spill.

 

Then the thought of my children back home,

Oh my dears!

They need me, and I need my job.

No,

The volcano cannot erupt.

 

There the volcano stands,

Smothered by obligations,

But still

Smouldering with scalding rage.

Julitta Chia Meng You
Kranji Secondary School

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2ND PRIZE
FLICKERING FLAMES LICK MY WOUND PLEASE

Tiny mist escaping from red lips Cigarette dangling from scorched fingertips Afar she stares, wishing and desiring  To burn down the city and see the pretty lights flickering.  She walks away and rain drops on roses  Returning to her home shared with cockroaches  She ponders and she wonders who is to blame  If she will ever embrace the love of a burning flame.  Reaching for her rusted blade she starts  To slit her wrist and hear her pounding heart  The gash is insufficient; her scabs she pick  See the blood drip and she begins to  The bleeding won’t stop and she screams  But secretly smiling at the pleasure gained  From the blood flowing, not clotting.  In monotone, she chants, My oh  Taking out her trusted cigarette lighter  She burns the cut, the blood hesitates and falters  Red liquid begins to thicken and would scab soon.  A new story begins with the new wound.  The blood has stopped but why does the fire continue?  Wanting no end; her flesh, the fire caresses.  She giggles as the pretty flames tease, stroke and kiss  Her final prayer, Flickering flames lick my wound please.

d dsfa dsfa dsfa dsfa dsfa dsfa dsfa dsfa dsfa dsfa lick dsfa dsfa dsfa my. dsfa dsfa dsfa wound. dsfa dsfa dsfa please.

Julie Wulandari Binte Pandji Wulan
Hai Sing Catholic School

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3RD PRIZE
METEORITE DANCE

While the dinosaurs roamed the land,

They had no idea what was at hand.

A burning asteroid miles away,

Was beginning to hurtle their way.

 

But still the dinosaurs could live their lives,

Before the terrible rock took the dive.

With an appetite rather rapacious,

The meteorite would end the Cretaceous.

 

However nine periods had to pass,

Before the dinosaurs BECOME the past.

One hundred and sixty million years to live,

Until they would finally cease to breathe.

 

First came the Cambrian and Ordovician ages,

Filling the aquatic history books with pages.

Following close was the Silurian and Devonian,

The ages of the insects and the amphibians.

 

All this while the space stone developed,

Ready for the world it would soon envelope.

Fire danced around the large rock,

The smaller asteroids they seem to mock.

Sweeping through the endless space,

Dancing at its own preferred pace.

 

On Earth, swam forests took up land,

Along with the first of the dinosaur clan.

From the Carbonifororous to the Permian period,

Reptilian creatures grew to a myriad.

 

So quickly they have ended half of their reign,

And sooner and faster travelled their bane.

The burning ball, spinning and spitting,

Closing in to Earth for their meeting.

 

It skirted neatly past other planetary orbits,

Avoiding them as if their intentions were sordid.

Yet its own plans were much worse,

Matching its dance that was rather perverse.

 

Choreographing a deadly performance,

That would kill creatures equated with permanence.

Of the danger the fearsome lizards could not know,

Even if they did, they could not surmount the blow.

 

Massive changes and sudden evolution,

Started the second, more famous revolution.

The Triassic period was entered,

Where friendly herbivores light-heartedly bantered.

 

As they were swept to the Jurassic age,

A flaming rock slammed through the atmosphere’s cage.

The fiery fragments rained down in scorn,

In favour of carnivorous reptiles that would be born.

 

Avian and aquatic reptiles suddenly appeared,

As down their gullets the lizards disappeared.

Once friendly dinosaurs developed body armour,

Arming them against nature’s rancour.

Warning heat waves ravaged the place,

Telling them these were the last of their days.

And the meteorite came, streaking through the night,

A flaming sphere that caused much fright.

Air whistled and screamed all around

As it cartwheeled and ended its dance.

 

Flickering flames from the rock lanced,

Attacking panicked creatures on the run.

Having no choice but to follow Fate’s flow,

The large dinosaurs were first to go.

Almost nothing could have survived,

Some had a quick end, most met a slower death.

Disaster now ruled all land

Just as the meteorite seemed to have planned.

 

The prehistoric ones did not deserve what they got,

But before their terrible deaths they must have thought,

Which seems likely, rather than not –

“Hey! That’s hot!”

Teo Xing Zhi
Ang Mo Kio Secondary School

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CONSOLATION PRIZE
THE RELIEF TEACHER

Dressed in a maroon shirt,

He entered the classroom

Holding nothing

But just a cup.

 

Placing the cup of water

On the teacher’s desk,

He called a young man

To him.

 

“Put your hand in the cup.”

Never having ever disobeyed a teacher,

He did as asked

And yelped.

 

When the second was asked,

She refused.

He asked why.

“That’s hot!” was her reply.

 

Now smiling,

He addressed the class.

“That’s right.

Learn from mistakes.

 

They may not be yours,

But you must learn.

That’s the reason

For studying History, no?”

 

The class gave a resounding yes,

And smiling again,

He left the class,

His lesson,

 

Taught.

Bryan Reginald Chan Zhi Jian
St Patrick’s School

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CONSOLATION PRIZE
DEFINE, CAN YOU?

What?

‘That’s hot.’

A universal expression;

Perhaps of exclamation and fancy.

 

Pierce through hearts like searing arrows,

Or leave us bleeding beads of brine.

Oh ho,

That’s hot.

 

Lips pouting,

Thigh baring,

Heels clicking.

That’s hot.

 

What?

That’s hot.

A universal expression;

Perhaps of irrelevance and nothingness.

 

Be it in English, Chinese or other tongues.

Be it fascinating, random, fun or sexy,

We have our own version of ‘That’s hot.’

 

Then,

What’s hot?

Seriously,

I know not.

 

Toh Wei Xun
Raffles Institution

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CONSOLATION PRIZE
WHAT’S HOT, WHAT’S NOT?

Lots of clones

This world has produced.

Brainwashed and unable to tell

What real really is.

Real beauty

When wearing tubes, tank tops and miniskirts?

Really handsome

With spiked and waxed coloured hair?

 

Am I really cool

With all the latest gadgets?

Or am I a fool? Hurting my pockets

For some new handphones, cameras and laptops.

 

Why would I want to be cool?

So that I could stand out?

What is the point of being cool?

To be just another swimmer, in an already packed pool?

 

Blended in the majority, No I am not.

Trendsetter or follower, I am not.

Never cheat myself, just to follow others.

Being original, that’s hot!

Luqman Hakim Bin Sahbudin
Kranji Secondary School

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