A rocket exploded in town Wednesday -- it was both a sign that National Poetry Month is in full swing and a reminder that poems can matter as much as the daily news.

Of course, the rocket was a figurative one, launched by poet Brian Turner. He's the former Army sergeant who fought in Iraq and captured his experiences in the raw poetry collection, "Here, Bullet" (Alice James Books, $14.95).

"Katyusha Rockets" is the title of a handful of powerful, image-searing works that Turner read at the International Poetry Forum's season finale.

The poem follows the rocket's trail from Iraq to the United States, a symbol of how the fear of death remains in the veteran's mind after coming home:

Rockets often fall

in the night sky of the skull, down long avenues

of the brain's myelin sheathing, over synapses

and the rough structures of thought ...

Turner's outfit replaced the initial wave of American troops that subdued the Iraqis in 2003, and it soon was faced with the violence of insurgency, he explained. His introduction to the situation is stated in "Hwy 1" as his convoy comes upon cranes nesting on power lines:

... when a sergeant shoots one from the highway

it pauses, as if amazed that death has found it

here, at 7 a.m. on such a beautiful morning,

before pitching over the side and falling

in a slow unraveling of feathers and wings.

"This is how we [Americans] entered this country," Turner commented.

Nearly four years after writing these poems on duty in Iraq between "boredom punctuated by incredible violence," the veteran remains angry and puzzled over his nation's forbearance for this enduring conflict.

"Our narrative of the war isn't changing," he said between poems. "We've reached a point of stasis in both our narratives and our conversations. These days, the news is full about the economy and the Iraq war is fading out."

Turner then said, "Art might be a way in to cause discussions about this war rather than waiting for journalists to do it."

That is the nudge I mentioned earlier. As an art, poetry has for centuries considered the issues and the tragedies of war. Turner, a veteran like the famed World War I poets, brings his audience not only a sense of war's immediacy, but engenders lasting memories of its fear and brutality.

For instance, "16 Iraqi Policemen," in its flat narrative of the death and injuries caused by a car bomb in Iraq, pinpoints like a laser rifle sight the bloody uselessness of it all.

Turner is an earnest and polite young man who seemed to apologize for his fierce stand against the war, yet spoke his opposition -- and puzzlement -- with the eloquence of a writer who understands the power of words.

He's concerned not only for the returning soldiers who "have explosive pieces still inside them," but for Iraqi refugees ignored by the United States.

Director Samuel Hazo honored the poet with the forum's Charity Randall Citation, a $2,000 prize recognizing Turner's powerful presentation skills as well as his writing. His reading was a fitting detonation for the month designed to celebrate poetry around the country.

The Academy of American Poets sponsors the celebration. Its Web site, www.poets.org, is full of ways to join in the party as well as connections to your favorite verse or poet.

Our town and poetry month

Tuesday: Huang Xiang, the exiled Chinese poet who was the first writer in Pittsburgh's City of Asylum program, is one of several artists for the Peace Alive performance at Mellon Institute, Oakland, at 8 p.m. The free event is sponsored by the Student Development Office of Carnegie Mellon University.

April 17: Your Inner Vagabond Coffeehouse and World Lounge, 4130 Butler St., Lawrenceville, launches the Third Thursdays Poetry Caravan, with slammer D.J. Brewer at 8 p.m. Details: 412-683-1623.

April 18: Jan Beatty, director of the creative writing program at Carlow University, reads from her new poetry collection, "Red Sugar," at 8 p.m. in the WYEP-FM Community Broadcast Center, 67 Bedford Square, South Side. It's free. 412-381-9900.