Posts

Showing posts with the label gaza

Gaza by Bill Manhire | Poems Rethabile Likes

Image
Gaza by Bill Manhire | Poems Rethabile Likes Gaza by Bill Manhire The dead boy tries to open his eyes. He wants to see the world he is leaving. But there is nothing to see here, nothing and nothing, and anyway he is gone. His parents held him while he died but they are both dead, too. Or he held them, no one remembers. 🎧 Listen to Bill Manhire read "Gaza" Your browser does not support the audio element. Poet: @BillManhire Online: @BestNewZealandPoems Book(s): @ThriftBooks ...

If I Must Die by Refaat Alareer | Poems Rethabile Likes

Image
If I Must Die by Refaat Alareer | Poems Rethabile Likes If I Must Die by Refaat Alareer If I must die, you must live to tell my story to sell my things to buy a piece of cloth and some strings, (make it white with a long tail) so that a child, somewhere in Gaza while looking heaven in the eye awaiting his dad who left in a blaze — and bid no one farewell not even to his flesh not even to himself — sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above, and thinks for a moment an angel is there bringing back love. If I must die let it bring hope, ...

So Now What? by Abigail George | Poems Rethabile Likes

Image
So Now What? by Abigail George | Poems Rethabile Likes So Now What? by Abigail George (for Charles Bukowski) During war, milk is the colour of blood, honey the colour of bone. The skulls here are bored. They want a new life, not this tragedy. I'm listing all your war crimes. I remember being happy. But I don't want to remember. I don't want to remember the man. I remember bombs and Gaza instead. Amputated limbs like branches. Here, everything tastes like seawater. I hope I'll wake up from this dream soon and that the man will return to me in the morning and to numb the...

Palestinian Streets by Mosab Abu Toha | Poems Rethabile Likes

Image
Palestinian Streets by Mosab Abu Toha | Poems Rethabile Likes Palestinian Streets by Mosab Abu Toha My city's streets are nameless. If a Palestinian gets killed by a sniper or a drone, we name the street after them. Children learn their numbers best when they can count how many homes or schools were destroyed, how many mothers and fathers were wounded or thrown into jail. Grownups in Palestine use their IDs only so as not to forget who they are. Poet: @MosabAbuToha Online: @LonghousePoetry Book(s): @AbeBooks ...