
24/08/2025
POETRY AFTER GAZA
“To write poetry after Auschwitz is barbarism.”
Theodore W. Adorno, 1949
“Perennial suffering has as much right to expression as a tortured man has to scream.”
Theodore W. Adorno, 1966
Will there be any poetry after Gaza? Or will one, who has lifted such a hand to persecute and harm, bury everything beneath a pile of sand, throw a match up on all the open screaming books begging for peace, for the end of an occupation? What will happen to the poetry that exists is easy to predict, simple to hide away from the eyes most ignorant and complicit to human suffering, to burn at the touch of a flame and turn to cinders. The poetry that has already been written lies in the blood that encrusts the stones, under rut and grit that was once houses, people’s domestic existence, torn to their knees and shattered to dust. The poetry burns on the skins freshly cut by lead, in the eyes grasping fearfully for their lost crumbs of hope in the shaded humanity of a sniper. It lies in the mellow colour of the olive trees, who have seen much pain and drank much blood from the soil they rooted within centuries before, it is in the children of men and their play, in the resilience of women who are sedating their thirst on retained tears, with the strength of iron barrels of guns, unmovable and unmistaken, as they hold up the roof of their world over their children’s heads, push straight the burdened backs of their men.
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