I want to burn a tangerine, by Diana Devlin

I want to burn a tangerine,
hear it fizzle, squeal and pop,
watch it glow like a sorry sun,
feel the laughter of the dead
rise up like a billion bubbles.

I want to join the celebration of release
from slavery and war. Throw another log
on the barbie! Watch flames leap
and twist, seek out the awful seeds,
make ash, don’t let them rise again.

I want to burn a tangerine, I really do
but the awfulness of such a deed
would infiltrate, annihilate,
turn us orange, one by one –
it can’t be done.

I won’t apologise for dreams of vengeance.
My dreams are all I’m left with
when building walls is easier
than building peace.

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I hear Aleppo by Diana Devlin

a mother’s hope, a daughter’s dream
two thousand one hundred miles away
in Aleppo, angels learn to scream
a soundtrack for this century
a song as bright as broken glass
sprinkles rainbows on their pain
dark nights as white as phosphorous
whitewashed by the bombing rain