Hasib Hourani



Poetry as Protest; Protest as Poetry

We’ve had reason, lately, to wonder at the effectiveness of protest. Movements like Black Lives Matter and Me Too (or, earlier: the Occupy Movement) mobilised millions of people around the world, yet it feels – particularly in our current political moment – as though despairingly little has changed. This frustration is felt with acute horror in the face of Israel’s genocidal campaign in Gaza, which has seen protestors gathering in the tens of thousands and hundreds of thousands every week for two years, demanding an end to the violence only to be ignored or painted as extremists by their governments.

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Cher Tan Reviews Hasib Hourani and Manisha Anjali

Naag Mountain by Manisha Anjali Giramondo, 2024 rock flight by Hasib Hourani Giramondo, 2024 Alas! There is no one in hell … all the devils are here! – Aimé Césaire, A Tempest (trans. Richard Miller) Who are you without colonialism? …

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salt sore

the sunlight starts without me latecomer to the morning sleeping through alarms chasing yellow glow well after it has turned orange turned blue turned black tea steeping into its strongest self i am trying to change the way i look …

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sealed tight for safety

i call my suburb the god district because there’s a church on every corner because the sunsets here are beautiful because of all the retirement homes here’s where i saw god this week: on night-time concrete, while jumping, singing the …

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nothing ever really

i’m at the centre of something and yes, i can break through the plastic barrier of the thing i’m in but then i will just be trapped again, this time in something bigger, and this process will go on and …

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