BOOKED @ Muse: Mak Manaka

by Natalia on Sep 29th, 2009

Mak Manka

Maakomele Manaka is no doubt one of South Africa’s most influential writers, poets and thinkers. Raised by a family that engages in the arts, it is no surprise that this young lion started to write at 12. He went on to publish his first poetry collection, If Only, in 2003 at age 19. Recently, his debut poetry album Word Sound and Power was released through Melody Muzik. The flowerful and flaming production fuses reggae, dub, hip hop and ghetto sounds. As much as he celebrates Africa and his people, he also chides the powers that be! This provocative artist will launch his second collection of poems, titled In time, on 31st October, published through Ge’ko.

Throughout his 15 years on stage and page, Manaka has shared his poems/views through his strong voice, young blood and old roots, in countries such as Jamaica, Cuba, Germany and recently Italy with an array of extraordinary artists from South Africa and beyond. Muse recently caught up with “Mak”, as he is known, at the acclaimed International festival of Literature in Italy’s Mantova, where he appeared with two of South Africa’s (and the world’s) most loved writers, Nadine Gordimer and Gcina Mhlophe. Among them was poet/perfomer and playwright extraordinaire Napo Masheane.

Manaka has been associated with poetry collectives such as Likwid Tongue and Seven. His poetry can also be found in anthologies such as We are… (Penguin) and I nostri semi/Peo tsa Rona poetry (Mangrovie). Manaka is currently reading The girl who played go by Shan Sa.

Poems

A Feeling Like This

She tickles me,
Yet I find it harder to laugh
Coz it’s a feeling
Of a thousand Jazz-men flowers,
A sunset of different colors
Cady coded on her finger tips
As she touches.
She is not late night
With Msizi Shembe
Coz her beat on my heart
Pounds the rhythm of a djembe,
And I know….
That my pain will cease
Once my arrogance
Learns not to resist
Her fiery kiss
Simply because,
She is that calming serene sent
Of bliss
How
Can
I ever
Forget
A feeling like this.
All of nature’s beauty
In one face,
She said my name
But Sunday jazz
Was all my ears to taste
Come darling here is my fire
Let’s blaze
Tonight you are the sun light
In all of men’s dark days
Some of us are still searching
For our selves in her purple eyes
And so I learned
To ask no lies
Hear no evil
And realize
The truth lives in her smiles.
She of a million light-years
Brightens up my path
True evidence
Of any man’s confidence
She is love longing to be found
We met at street corners
Like Township lovers
Plus the night covers
Disbelieve of loving
Feeling like we are surrounded
By nothing
My semi sweet glass of serenity
Please
Say my name once more
So may definitely know
For sure
That just from a conversation
I soar
And in her eyes I saw
The truth starring back at me,
Innocent tears of reality.
And as she spoke in shades of the moon
I questioned
When will she ever hear the tune
I composed with my heart.

– copyright Mak Manaka

the ghosts of theatre

see how they dance
attention into a trance
and jazz pain off our hands.
born to wait,
stronger than yesterday
and weaker than now
see the energy in their frowns.
look how they steal our crown
and treat us like clowns,
they forgot
that in the past
our feet stomp anxiety in their hearts.
we sing to bring classism
to a stand still,
listen to the anger in our poems,
because our music
has not been written yet.
we engraved tolerance
on time’s hands,
we are shadows
behind the curtains in your shows,
sons and daughters of patience
i respect your strength,
you are the everlasting beauty
of our spiritual wealth.
walk away from their pressure
and your insecurities,
coz lately words are bad for my health.
forward in the books of history we march
as untrained generals of our destiny,
by the time i am 30
i will be sick of me.
see how they treasure your pain
and label your passion insane,
where is the sugar in our coffee?
our passion for art runs as deep as the ocean
but passion pays no bills
passion is mean
passion is hard,
so i refuse to be a machine
because you are turning our hearts into poison.
built for death, doomed at birth
what are you teaching our children?
compromise yourself in a situation?
i refuse to compromise my truth
for the chains of conformity.
coz naked mics and unwritten verses
are yearning for honesty,
your world is smaller than our stage
and our spirits are stronger than your rage
we are more than names on your page
listen to the gumboot in our voices.
as we dance jazz to mbaqanga,
groove hip-hop with kwaito
slang english to scamto
the wind moves to our rhythm.
the energy in our talents is priceless
so your shit stops now
not before or after but now
you can’t hurt us any more
you can’t swell our feet any more
you can’t control us any more,
you cant stop the horror
we are not the ornaments on your door
we are the untouchable chords
of marley
marvin,
dylan,
taiwa,
garvey,
mpharanyana
sisters of joy down paradise road
mahlathini,
mxingana
and not singana,
tiro,
biko
baldwin,
elvis,
matsemela,
davies
hendrix
we are the delicate rhythms of your heartbeats
the music in your books
we do not conform
our mistakes teach us how to live
our sorrows teach us how to receive
and respect whatever the lord gives
we drum fear into lives reluctant
to face the pride in our footsteps.
the truth about nature
is that it never lies
so its in our nature to be,
our children will not be afraid of art.