Poems from June I

Iron Song, June 8, 2013
Iron veins sing
the oncoming rushing
the roiling steel
& are thankful
thankful for its approach
for its presence
for its departure
& sing for its passing. 

Bricks, June 16, 2013
(My Habitat for Humanity poem; this was previously posted on my Facebook page.)

I have bricks for hands & mortar for words
& I am pounding with hammer fingers, hammer eyes;
I have a screwdriver tongue & paintbrush hair
& my ears are plugs into my power grid brain.

I lose my wooden legs to shingle the house,
& each toe forms a gently opening door.
My thoughts conform to beds & countertops & scattered silverware.

My hot, thrumming heart is an oven, the aorta reaching outward
& within is a loaf of bread, light but hearty & sustaining...
I am waiting for it to be ready.

No Mic, June 18, 2013
The human voice is the finest
--& maybe the most coarse--
of all--& of any--instrument.
Which is why I do not
--or maybe it is that I cannot--
use the microphone in front of
--or maybe behind--me.
The human voice can deliver
a moan--or a groan--,
a soliloquy--or a sermon--,
an exhaltation--or a damnation--
& in so intoning--or keeping silence--
that peculiar--& particular--human noise.

Spokes, June 18, 2013
Spokes hold the wheel.
The wheel holds the spokes.
The hub holds the center.

I whir & whir & whir,
spinning around some middle,
some unknowable gravity well.

Wheels carry me to & from,
each made of nothingness
& movement & spokes.

[Note: This meditation on nothingness is picked up again in the haiku I wrote on the 30th.]