Treasure Island

Danny Draper

(14 July 1963 / Kiama, New South Wales, Australia)

Syria 11 - Sonnet for school incursions


Aleppo children hung their art of war
They and school proud survivors of its score
It showed their trauma without and within
Each knew life and death and chances were slim.
Pictures of terror became common place
Tattoos of distress were every child's face
Art as therapy defiance to war
Innocence expunged forever more.
The school unscathed announced an art display
Hoping to bring some normal to the day
Expressions of the suffering and pain
Survival despite their leaders disdain.
Bashers' planes shed bombs, perversion, adding
Hyperrealism to a school's incursion.

Danny Draper
4/5/2014

Submitted: Saturday, May 03, 2014

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Topic(s): War

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

For the recent bombing of a school in Aleppo, Syria, about to hold an exhibition of the children's art about the war.

incursion2
/ɪnˈkɜʒən/ (say in'kerzhuhn)
noun an educational activity in which an artist, educator, etc., visits a school to give a demonstration, etc., of their specialty: a drama incursion.
[modelled on EXCURSION, with ex-, meaning `out', being replaced with in-]
www.macquariedictionary.com.au

Comments about this poem (Syria 11 - Sonnet for school incursions by Danny Draper )

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  • Anthony Di''anno (5/24/2014 3:01:00 AM)

    Absolutely stunning sonnet Danny. It carries the raw human side of war. A sombre read with a great ending and the essence of love bleeding through it. Very well written. (Report) Reply

  • Diane Hine (5/6/2014 6:28:00 AM)

    Not meaning to overlook the horror of the event, but this really is a terrific sonnet because of the way you've turned it in the last two lines. One of the best last lines I can think of. (Report) Reply

  • Susan Lacovara (5/4/2014 12:04:00 AM)

    Sad to think that the charcoal renderings of innocent children be slathered in the ashes after a bombing. How is it even definable? You continue to teach us, preach to us through your mighty soldiers of words....I wish I could sit through a semester of your stirring stories. PEACE, my grand poet friend (Report) Reply

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