Spotlighting Pan-African Poetry

Biography

Daybreak- A Canvas in Concert

Enlarge poem

My Father makes art in heaven

Destined to dance,
The earth spins, the sky responds,
Caught between,
We travelers are breaking bonds
(Lothlorien)Time zoning out as magic hour quickly approaches,
The bedazzled cloaking of the night,
Melts from the canvas of the sky, sparkling lights
Retreat to await more dazzling sights
The sprinklings of twinklings disappear in a blinking,
Of what comes now they know only an inkling

Harbingers. The first wave of lighter shades
Seeps into the celestial dome,
Beckoning blacks to be by dark blues absorbed
As message into outer space departs to the orb
As if to say “Let’s go home”
The mercury rises
Harvesting- river, ocean and seas
Plundering moisture of – lake, pond and tree
Pocketing even the essence of dew,
Atmosphere awash as an invisible river runs through,
Pilfering even the vapours of our bated breaths,
Dialogue with the elements taught that a sun can only be baited with,
Soft shrouds, so these waters become the first wisps of lofty clouds.

We have now entered the moment between moments,
now reading the message woven between omens
Haze lifts over horizon, as exhibition opens.

Shafts. Beams.
Sun sheepishly crossing over awakening from lapsed dreams
All are welcome, the sinner, the saint, to behold as the cast deems
Light to be the brush, and colour as paint,
Firmament playing canvas, through impermanent display,
All compassed about with horizons for decadent frame
Orange light tints the clouds dousing them in flame
Brilliant day breaks through the night,
Light, shatters the darkness
A spectacle like music for the eyes
A festival of colours and lights
Moving pictures, merging mellow yellows to meet
Explosive purples, yielding to the violence of volatile violet
An intoxicated rainbow
Finally fusing into reclusive blues of the most beautiful hues

The sun rises, and day breaks
Over a canvas in concert.

From theDraft
Careering through space, yet spinning in place Celestial bodies as travelers
(the art is the creation of the art)
Saying wait till you see my hues, wait till you see my hues

Palate (Canvas)
Gods art exhibition,
Tears and sweat and oceans and rivers all becoming something beautiful
Cracks across the sky, giving birth to brilliance

There’s a moment when it’s not day yet, but it’s not night either, like the world stands still, hesitates, leftovers of an eclipse.

100s of thousands of miles every second, racing to you (like a rescuer). Like dusk to dawn is a dance
Red orange, purple, and yellow
First twilight, Gods Art, Good morning

The mistake is to view the phenomenon of dawn as a purely visual one.
Atmosphere (rhyme potential)
Morning Twilight
The earth itself casts a shadow on the horizon which can be seen as a dark blue or greyish blue band

Andrew Manyika

Featured Poem:

Cedars of Lebanon

Enlarge poem

They’re looking for us to lead them into love,
For the longest time I carried the biggest torch for you,
I ripped it out from beneath the bark of a Cedar tree of Lebanon,
But you don’t hear me though,
In a treasure trove of cedar groves there are evergreens that forever grow
Seasons change, and it never shows, because these trees they never stray,
Save upward. With a bark that is etched from the marks of the stretch,
Of striving to drink from the clouds while feet stay parched in the earth.
Upward, with needle like leaves, that are straining to teach buildings
What it means to scrape the skies. Upward. Forward.
I hurtled forward toward this forest having too often been thrown into the throes of reckless abandon,
Only to find my heart trampled under soles then recklessly abandoned,
Having wearied of being wary of false affections and feigned fealties
Of distressing damsels that disdained detection whilst in reality,
They came with a charm that is disarming, taught me that love is a battle but I resigned my commission from this army,
I was looking for better wars for my metaphors, so I set down my pen and pad
And tried to shut Forever’s door. But I was hurled through.
Hurt and riddled with scars,
I sought shelter in this Cedar’s shade till it only hurt a little,
And when the memory of present suffering had been reduced to a mere murmur in the chambers of my heart,
I pronounced that I would love again,
And though I st-st-stammered a little, I grabbed both hammer and chisel,
And set to carving. I took the wood from the tree, fashioned the good that could be,
And formed a torch from it. I overlaid it with gold and placed it in my own two palms to hold,
So that when I met you, I would have more to present to you than the mere time on my hands,
So when say I carry a torch for you, understand,
I carved it out of the bleeding heart of a Cedar Tree of Lebanon. Understand,
That with more time spent in my hands, it took on features like the fibres of my being,
And I hold it out to you ,
Hoping that when I see you,
I will know to be a woman taken from the fabric of a dream,
And you are.
From the way you walk like there’s a dance bound in your frame,
To how even music lacks lustre when compared to the sound of your name,
Your silence which is a miners reward and you laugh which is a musician’s invention,
Would that you would lace your voice with some of the fire in your belly,
Use that passion to light it and see, that I love you from the deep ends of my heart,
Where the flavours of my affection are concentrated like a deep thought,
You leave me both shaken and stirred
Light t and see, that I would bind myself to you at an altar
and proceed to suckle the honey from the moon,
because I have decided to give you everything, saving nothing for later,
leaving nothing in reserve,
because of time without you, I have surpassed my quota,
so I’m here with my everything, every dot, and every iota.
See that I would honour even the marks on your celestial body,
Because I understand, these aren’t scars, these are hieroglyphs,
Hewn into you I read them, and as I tune into your rhythm,
I become consumed by you my prism. You add color,
To the light-years of my life
So I’m carrying a torch for you,
I ripped it,
I carved it,
I tore it out from beneath the bosom of a cedar tree of Lebanon
To light the path to the great trees of mamre,
A place where God comes down.

Andrew_Manyika Slam Poet2

How does this featured poem make you feel?

  • Amazement (3)
  • Pride (0)
  • Optimism (0)
  • Anger (0)
  • Delight (0)
  • Inspiration (4)
  • Reflection (0)
  • Captivation (1)
  • Peace (0)
  • Amusement (3)
  • Sorrow (3)
  • Vigour (0)
  • Hope (1)
  • Sadness (3)
  • Fear (0)
  • Jubilation (1)

Comments

  1. “There’s a moment when it’s not day yet, but it’s not night either, like the world stands still, hesitates, leftovers of an eclipse.”- Beautiful. Our Father God is really an artist- He paints the skies with clouds and cries of birds. The earth is truly beautiful- and so are we…a masterpiece

    Thabi

Your email address will not be published.

Biography

Andrew Manyika, is a Writer, Performance Poet, Comedian and MC based in Johannesburg. He has performed at Poetry Festivals and Fashion shows, hosted Award Shows and weddings, and taken to prominent comedy & poetry venues in South Africa and Zimbabwe.

Sometimes referred to as “the Gentleman of Poetry” due to his penchant for wearing 3-piece suits, Andrew began to make his mark on the local poetry scene when he won the Gauteng Drama For Life Slam in 2011; and he placed second in the DFL National Grand Slam. Preceding this was a victory in the University of Johannesburg International Students poetry competition, and being published in a departmental university diary. In November of 2011 he took 3rd place at the WordnSound Poetry Festival Open Mic Finale and has been extensively involved in WordnSound from that time, now consulting as their Marketing Officer.

Highlights of his poetry career include having performed at the BAT Centre (Durban 2012); the State Theatre Pretoria Night of The Poets; Johannesburg International Motor Show 2011 (for team Mazda); TEDx Johannesburg 2013; The opening of the Living Arts Emporium Gallery.

In 2012 his poem “Make Up (Your Mind)”( http://www.youtube.com/watch%3Fv%3DO_4Ck4FEva8 ) was nominated for the inaugural Word N Sound “Perfect Poem” award, and has gone on to receive generous airplay on Radio2000, featured on SAfm and flighted on EDTV and LoveWorld Sat (DStv). Other media appearances include: E-tv Sunrise; Zoned.tv; Soweto Tv, Mzansi Insider, Power FM, VOW fm and UjFM.

In 2012 Andrew emerged from a national audition process as one of ten poets to be selected for the Macufe Festival. He has subsequently been host or performer at the Word N Sound Festival (2011-13), Melville Poetry Festival (2012 & 2013); The Gospel Revolution Conference; The 2013 Izimbongi Poetry Festival and co-produced the inaugural “Slam For Your Life”. In May 2014, Andrew made his Debut appearance at the Harare International Festival of the Arts (on both their comedy and poetry stages).

It is this peculiar mix of comedy and poetry that has enabled Andrew to bring a fresh perspective to MCing. He is the current host of the Word N Sound Awards (where he is a 2-time nominee) and has hosted Night of the Poets 2014, and co-hosted the Glory-to-Glory Revival Centre Year-End of Year function. In 2013, he MC’d the Divine Adoration Concert; and Given Illustratives 1-man show.
He has taken to the stage performing stand-up comedy at Wish, the Comedy Underground; Kitchener’s; The Box; Parkers, and the “Bang Bang Comedy Club” (Zim).

Alongside Napo Masheane and rapper ProVerb, Andrew is profiled in the 5th Anniversary edition of the online poetry magazine: www.poetrypotion.com.

Being a born-again Christian, Andrew strives to represent Christ well through his art.
He is the holder of BCom Marketing Management & BCom (Hons)Strategic Management degrees and is an emerging entrepreneur.

Catch him on: @drewmannshow Andrew Manyika

Andrew Manyika

Andrew_Manyika Slam Poet2
Andrew_Manyika Slam Poet2

Biography

Andrew Manyika, is a Writer, Performance Poet, Comedian and MC based in Johannesburg. He has performed at Poetry Festivals and Fashion shows, hosted Award Shows and weddings, and taken to prominent comedy & poetry venues in South Africa and Zimbabwe.

Sometimes referred to as “the Gentleman of Poetry” due to his penchant for wearing 3-piece suits, Andrew began to make his mark on the local poetry scene when he won the Gauteng Drama For Life Slam in 2011; and he placed second in the DFL National Grand Slam. Preceding this was a victory in the University of Johannesburg International Students poetry competition, and being published in a departmental university diary. In November of 2011 he took 3rd place at the WordnSound Poetry Festival Open Mic Finale and has been extensively involved in WordnSound from that time, now consulting as their Marketing Officer.

Highlights of his poetry career include having performed at the BAT Centre (Durban 2012); the State Theatre Pretoria Night of The Poets; Johannesburg International Motor Show 2011 (for team Mazda); TEDx Johannesburg 2013; The opening of the Living Arts Emporium Gallery.

In 2012 his poem “Make Up (Your Mind)”( http://www.youtube.com/watch%3Fv%3DO_4Ck4FEva8 ) was nominated for the inaugural Word N Sound “Perfect Poem” award, and has gone on to receive generous airplay on Radio2000, featured on SAfm and flighted on EDTV and LoveWorld Sat (DStv). Other media appearances include: E-tv Sunrise; Zoned.tv; Soweto Tv, Mzansi Insider, Power FM, VOW fm and UjFM.

In 2012 Andrew emerged from a national audition process as one of ten poets to be selected for the Macufe Festival. He has subsequently been host or performer at the Word N Sound Festival (2011-13), Melville Poetry Festival (2012 & 2013); The Gospel Revolution Conference; The 2013 Izimbongi Poetry Festival and co-produced the inaugural “Slam For Your Life”. In May 2014, Andrew made his Debut appearance at the Harare International Festival of the Arts (on both their comedy and poetry stages).

It is this peculiar mix of comedy and poetry that has enabled Andrew to bring a fresh perspective to MCing. He is the current host of the Word N Sound Awards (where he is a 2-time nominee) and has hosted Night of the Poets 2014, and co-hosted the Glory-to-Glory Revival Centre Year-End of Year function. In 2013, he MC’d the Divine Adoration Concert; and Given Illustratives 1-man show.
He has taken to the stage performing stand-up comedy at Wish, the Comedy Underground; Kitchener’s; The Box; Parkers, and the “Bang Bang Comedy Club” (Zim).

Alongside Napo Masheane and rapper ProVerb, Andrew is profiled in the 5th Anniversary edition of the online poetry magazine: www.poetrypotion.com.

Being a born-again Christian, Andrew strives to represent Christ well through his art.
He is the holder of BCom Marketing Management & BCom (Hons)Strategic Management degrees and is an emerging entrepreneur.

Catch him on: @drewmannshow Andrew Manyika

Daybreak- A Canvas in Concert

Enlarge poem

My Father makes art in heaven

Destined to dance,
The earth spins, the sky responds,
Caught between,
We travelers are breaking bonds
(Lothlorien)Time zoning out as magic hour quickly approaches,
The bedazzled cloaking of the night,
Melts from the canvas of the sky, sparkling lights
Retreat to await more dazzling sights
The sprinklings of twinklings disappear in a blinking,
Of what comes now they know only an inkling

Harbingers. The first wave of lighter shades
Seeps into the celestial dome,
Beckoning blacks to be by dark blues absorbed
As message into outer space departs to the orb
As if to say “Let’s go home”
The mercury rises
Harvesting- river, ocean and seas
Plundering moisture of – lake, pond and tree
Pocketing even the essence of dew,
Atmosphere awash as an invisible river runs through,
Pilfering even the vapours of our bated breaths,
Dialogue with the elements taught that a sun can only be baited with,
Soft shrouds, so these waters become the first wisps of lofty clouds.

We have now entered the moment between moments,
now reading the message woven between omens
Haze lifts over horizon, as exhibition opens.

Shafts. Beams.
Sun sheepishly crossing over awakening from lapsed dreams
All are welcome, the sinner, the saint, to behold as the cast deems
Light to be the brush, and colour as paint,
Firmament playing canvas, through impermanent display,
All compassed about with horizons for decadent frame
Orange light tints the clouds dousing them in flame
Brilliant day breaks through the night,
Light, shatters the darkness
A spectacle like music for the eyes
A festival of colours and lights
Moving pictures, merging mellow yellows to meet
Explosive purples, yielding to the violence of volatile violet
An intoxicated rainbow
Finally fusing into reclusive blues of the most beautiful hues

The sun rises, and day breaks
Over a canvas in concert.

From theDraft
Careering through space, yet spinning in place Celestial bodies as travelers
(the art is the creation of the art)
Saying wait till you see my hues, wait till you see my hues

Palate (Canvas)
Gods art exhibition,
Tears and sweat and oceans and rivers all becoming something beautiful
Cracks across the sky, giving birth to brilliance

There’s a moment when it’s not day yet, but it’s not night either, like the world stands still, hesitates, leftovers of an eclipse.

100s of thousands of miles every second, racing to you (like a rescuer). Like dusk to dawn is a dance
Red orange, purple, and yellow
First twilight, Gods Art, Good morning

The mistake is to view the phenomenon of dawn as a purely visual one.
Atmosphere (rhyme potential)
Morning Twilight
The earth itself casts a shadow on the horizon which can be seen as a dark blue or greyish blue band

Featured Poem:

Cedars of Lebanon

Enlarge poem

They’re looking for us to lead them into love,
For the longest time I carried the biggest torch for you,
I ripped it out from beneath the bark of a Cedar tree of Lebanon,
But you don’t hear me though,
In a treasure trove of cedar groves there are evergreens that forever grow
Seasons change, and it never shows, because these trees they never stray,
Save upward. With a bark that is etched from the marks of the stretch,
Of striving to drink from the clouds while feet stay parched in the earth.
Upward, with needle like leaves, that are straining to teach buildings
What it means to scrape the skies. Upward. Forward.
I hurtled forward toward this forest having too often been thrown into the throes of reckless abandon,
Only to find my heart trampled under soles then recklessly abandoned,
Having wearied of being wary of false affections and feigned fealties
Of distressing damsels that disdained detection whilst in reality,
They came with a charm that is disarming, taught me that love is a battle but I resigned my commission from this army,
I was looking for better wars for my metaphors, so I set down my pen and pad
And tried to shut Forever’s door. But I was hurled through.
Hurt and riddled with scars,
I sought shelter in this Cedar’s shade till it only hurt a little,
And when the memory of present suffering had been reduced to a mere murmur in the chambers of my heart,
I pronounced that I would love again,
And though I st-st-stammered a little, I grabbed both hammer and chisel,
And set to carving. I took the wood from the tree, fashioned the good that could be,
And formed a torch from it. I overlaid it with gold and placed it in my own two palms to hold,
So that when I met you, I would have more to present to you than the mere time on my hands,
So when say I carry a torch for you, understand,
I carved it out of the bleeding heart of a Cedar Tree of Lebanon. Understand,
That with more time spent in my hands, it took on features like the fibres of my being,
And I hold it out to you ,
Hoping that when I see you,
I will know to be a woman taken from the fabric of a dream,
And you are.
From the way you walk like there’s a dance bound in your frame,
To how even music lacks lustre when compared to the sound of your name,
Your silence which is a miners reward and you laugh which is a musician’s invention,
Would that you would lace your voice with some of the fire in your belly,
Use that passion to light it and see, that I love you from the deep ends of my heart,
Where the flavours of my affection are concentrated like a deep thought,
You leave me both shaken and stirred
Light t and see, that I would bind myself to you at an altar
and proceed to suckle the honey from the moon,
because I have decided to give you everything, saving nothing for later,
leaving nothing in reserve,
because of time without you, I have surpassed my quota,
so I’m here with my everything, every dot, and every iota.
See that I would honour even the marks on your celestial body,
Because I understand, these aren’t scars, these are hieroglyphs,
Hewn into you I read them, and as I tune into your rhythm,
I become consumed by you my prism. You add color,
To the light-years of my life
So I’m carrying a torch for you,
I ripped it,
I carved it,
I tore it out from beneath the bosom of a cedar tree of Lebanon
To light the path to the great trees of mamre,
A place where God comes down.

How does this featured poem make you feel?

  • Amazement (3)
  • Pride (0)
  • Optimism (0)
  • Anger (0)
  • Delight (0)
  • Inspiration (4)
  • Reflection (0)
  • Captivation (1)
  • Peace (0)
  • Amusement (3)
  • Sorrow (3)
  • Vigour (0)
  • Hope (1)
  • Sadness (3)
  • Fear (0)
  • Jubilation (1)

Daybreak- A Canvas in Concert

Enlarge poem

My Father makes art in heaven

Destined to dance,
The earth spins, the sky responds,
Caught between,
We travelers are breaking bonds
(Lothlorien)Time zoning out as magic hour quickly approaches,
The bedazzled cloaking of the night,
Melts from the canvas of the sky, sparkling lights
Retreat to await more dazzling sights
The sprinklings of twinklings disappear in a blinking,
Of what comes now they know only an inkling

Harbingers. The first wave of lighter shades
Seeps into the celestial dome,
Beckoning blacks to be by dark blues absorbed
As message into outer space departs to the orb
As if to say “Let’s go home”
The mercury rises
Harvesting- river, ocean and seas
Plundering moisture of – lake, pond and tree
Pocketing even the essence of dew,
Atmosphere awash as an invisible river runs through,
Pilfering even the vapours of our bated breaths,
Dialogue with the elements taught that a sun can only be baited with,
Soft shrouds, so these waters become the first wisps of lofty clouds.

We have now entered the moment between moments,
now reading the message woven between omens
Haze lifts over horizon, as exhibition opens.

Shafts. Beams.
Sun sheepishly crossing over awakening from lapsed dreams
All are welcome, the sinner, the saint, to behold as the cast deems
Light to be the brush, and colour as paint,
Firmament playing canvas, through impermanent display,
All compassed about with horizons for decadent frame
Orange light tints the clouds dousing them in flame
Brilliant day breaks through the night,
Light, shatters the darkness
A spectacle like music for the eyes
A festival of colours and lights
Moving pictures, merging mellow yellows to meet
Explosive purples, yielding to the violence of volatile violet
An intoxicated rainbow
Finally fusing into reclusive blues of the most beautiful hues

The sun rises, and day breaks
Over a canvas in concert.

From theDraft
Careering through space, yet spinning in place Celestial bodies as travelers
(the art is the creation of the art)
Saying wait till you see my hues, wait till you see my hues

Palate (Canvas)
Gods art exhibition,
Tears and sweat and oceans and rivers all becoming something beautiful
Cracks across the sky, giving birth to brilliance

There’s a moment when it’s not day yet, but it’s not night either, like the world stands still, hesitates, leftovers of an eclipse.

100s of thousands of miles every second, racing to you (like a rescuer). Like dusk to dawn is a dance
Red orange, purple, and yellow
First twilight, Gods Art, Good morning

The mistake is to view the phenomenon of dawn as a purely visual one.
Atmosphere (rhyme potential)
Morning Twilight
The earth itself casts a shadow on the horizon which can be seen as a dark blue or greyish blue band

Comments

  1. “There’s a moment when it’s not day yet, but it’s not night either, like the world stands still, hesitates, leftovers of an eclipse.”- Beautiful. Our Father God is really an artist- He paints the skies with clouds and cries of birds. The earth is truly beautiful- and so are we…a masterpiece

    Thabi

Your email address will not be published.