The Creative Humor of Carlos Colon
by Daniel Koffman
The second book of Haiku that I opened was Haiku: The Art of the Short Poem. I opened it not really sure what I was looking for, or what I would find. Turning the pages randomly, I scanned for anything words or phrases that caught my attention. I settled on one, reading through it, and instantly finding myself liking it. I took note of the author's name and moved on. This process repeated two more times, each with the same result. In a book with dozens of haiku by various different authors, I found myself invariably drawn to the work of one man: Carlos Colon. Haiku is not the only form of poetry that Carlos writes; his visual poems are particularly creative. And yet, his haiku alone is enough to illustrate both the wide range and depth of poetic talent that he possesses.
my daughter's eyes
when I refuse
the beggar
Carlos Colon, H:TAOTSP, 36
This is the first haiku of Carlos' that I came across. At the time, I knew very little about what makes a good haiku. I simply knew what appealed to me as a reader. I was instantly drawn to the socially conscious message. It was only later, after more experience with the art of haiku that I was able to evaluate this haiku more deeply.
The image is both simple and powerful. The opening line gives a brief image to start with. We can see the face of the little girl, though we don't know precisely what expression she's wearing. The next line provides more depth, letting us know that her expression is most likely an unhappy one. After all, no one likes being refused.
The last line provides the twist that lets us reevaluate the entire poem in a new context. We know now that the daughter is not disappointed because her father is refusing her something. Rather, she is disappointed in her father for refusing a fellow person in need.
This haiku speaks to the simple wisdom of children that often has the ability to cut through many of the preconceived or conditioned ideas that we all hold about the world. Where the father see's a person to be avoided, and possibly even blamed for their own predicament, the child simply sees a human being who needs help.
zen concert
an air guitar – slightly
out of tune
Carlos Colon, H:TAOTSP, 67
This haiku has its own kind of simple wisdom, this time from the perspective of the author. From it, we get the image of someone, perhaps the author himself, enthusiastically playing air guitar along to a favorite song. The last line shifts the image a bit, moving the man's mock playing just a hair out of time with the music.
The phrase "zen concert" lets us know that music is something very important to the subject of this haiku. Its not merely something to listen to, but something to open yourself up to and to get lost in; something that can help you through the difficult times that life can throw at you.
The phrase also gives the impression that this person is alone, or at least doesn't care if they aren't. As far as they're concerned, there is nobody around to watch or judge the performance. Just a solitary person, enjoying music and enjoying life. It's a lonely image, and a beautiful one.
algae gliding
across a stagnant pond..
..unveils the moon
Carlos Colon, Clocking Out, 27
Here we see a haiku much more in the traditional, nature-oriented vein that most people expect from the art form. The opening phrase clearly imparts the image of the pond; although we don't know what time of day we're seeing it. The moon is revealed at the same time as the answer to that question.
I particularly like the use of ellipses across the last two lines. Haiku is already meant to be taken in slowly, allowing time for the images to form clearly in our minds. The ellipses force us to slow down even more. We can take the time to truly enjoy the moment of the moon's reveal.
More than the beautiful scene unfolding before the eyes, I read deeper into this haiku. The algae at first covering up the moon's reflection represent darkness' ability at times to cover light. Life can often leave you feeling as if darkness is all you will experience. But as this haiku shows, if you wait long enough, eventually the light will reveal itself.
driving away
that new car smell
—my first dent
Carlos Colon, Clocking Out, 30
the beetle I righted
flies straight into
a cobweb
George Swede, AU, 24
For a comparison to Colon's work, I turned to the work of George Swede, who I feel possesses a similar range and the same sort of subtle humor that Carlos exhibits. These two haiku demonstrate that humor. They both speak to the tendency of life to throw wrenches into our plans, and the fact that even the best of intentions can lead to outcomes we didn't anticipate.
Both haiku give us a scenario on the part of the author, and both begin quite pleasantly. Carlos' gives us the image of the purchase of a new car, and the self-satisfaction that can bring. George on the other hand, does a good deed for an otherwise insignificant creature, which can provide a kind of self-satisfaction all on its own.
Similarly, the final lines of both of these haiku contain the twist that turns the scenarios around. Carlos hits something with his car, while the beetle that George assisted flies immediately to its doom.
Contrasting the two, I would say that Carlos' haiku is much more self-centered than George's. The author is the one suffering from the twist at the end, having damaged the car he just purchased, whereas George's haiku features him attempting to lend assistance to another creature, only for things to go wrong for that creature.
company coming
Uri Geller unbends
the spoons
Carlos Colon, H:TAOTSP, 61
Carlos' humor is on full display in this haiku, which I think demonstrates a type of bravery in its composition. The target audience for this is limited to those who know who Uri Geller is, and what he is famous for. (I would imagine this to be a rapidly declining population)
For those who don't know, Uri Geller is an Israeli illusionist who claims that his tricks are the result of real paranormal powers. The trick he is most known for is spoon bending, thus the scene of this haiku.
In addition to being a nice little joke, this haiku can be read as the collision between fantastical beliefs and feelings, and regular everyday life. This trick of Geller's, something that has amazed and astounded people, is at this moment simply an inconvenience to the impending arrival of dinner guests.
formerevolutionaryuppie
Carlos Colon, Clocking Out, 17
This is one of Carlos' more interesting and unique haiku. Not only has he condensed it into one line, but he has condensed the words "former" "revolutionary" and "yuppie" into one long, running word.
This haiku gives a definite feeling of somebody growing older and changing from the way they used to be. The evolution from revolutionary to "yuppie" (a well-paid, middle class person) is one that many seem to undergo in their lifetime. As life and the responsibilities that come with age begin to pile up, the revolutionary spirit of youth dies away.
In particular, the condensed and interwoven nature of this haiku gives the impression that this transformation happens much faster than one would expect it to, with the author suddenly finding himself on the other end of the change, and unaware of exactly when it took place.
somewhere
on the Sgt.'s desk
a "Missing Person" report
Carlos Colon, Clocking Out, 9
This haiku demonstrates the depth of emotion that Carlos can reach with his writing. In true haiku form, the initial image is mild, giving us simply the picture of a messy desk. The mention of the Sergeant provides a little foreshadowing, but the final line reveals the true gravity of the situation.
In this context, the imagery of the messy desk becomes something much more than a simple visual. It is now an allegory to the status of the soldier: his paper lost, hidden away, perhaps even forgotten as he is.
The deliberate capitalization of the phrase "Missing Person" belies a deep respect for all those who have endured that terrible fate in real life.
celebrating
its fourth month
in my neighbor's yard
a lavender-brown
Christmas tree
Carlos Colon, Clocking Out, 5
This haiku is a fun one. We can almost feel his mounting frustration over this ultimately insignificant, but nonetheless irritating neighborly issue. True to his style, the initial line (or word in this case) gives us quite a different feeling than where the poem ends up. Simply seeing the word celebration, our minds can conjure all kinds of images of happy people and gatherings.
The next line, however, begins the turn toward the grumpy, neighborly place we end up, as each line makes it clearer that this particular form of celebration is not quite welcome. Even the tree seems to agree with the author, as it has turned from green to a deep brown.
The form of the haiku serves as its own parallel to the story. Carlos bucks tradition and extends the haiku for an extra two lines, much as his neighbor bucks the tradition of taking down your Christmas decorations in a timely manner, instead extending them for months longer.
running
all the red lights–
funeral procession
Carlos Colon, Red Moon Anthology 1997, 71
Another haiku of deep emotional impact. The beginning throws us off, giving us the annoying image of somebody who apparently doesn't think that the law applies to them. Just as we are ready to embrace our negative opinion of this person, we see the truth of the situation.
Far from a lone person shirking the law, we see instead the deep respect and importance we place upon the end of a person's life. Though the intersections are undoubtedly filled with busy people, each thinking that their particular destination is the priority, everyone is forced to stop for a moment, to allow for a moment of silence, reflection, and respect for the departed.
Having taken part in several funeral processions over the last year, this haiku speaks personally to me, as I had similar feeling of admiration seeing all of the people who stopped in the middle of their busy days to give us priority. It's one of those small, beautiful aspects of human nature that can shine so well in poetry.
sign language translator
—fumbling
with the curse words
Carlos Colon, Clocking Out, 41
Here we get a lovely image of somebody who doesn't let a disability stand in the way of who they are as a person. Too often, we have this image of people with disabilities as people who need to be coddled and handled so lightly that it prevents us from simply treating them simply as human beings, which is most likely how they wish to be treated.
The subject of the haiku doesn't let their inability to hear prevent them from engaging in a typical conversation, profanity and all, with their fellow human beings.
pointing
my way home
the starfish
Colon, Clocking Out, 53
Such a simple concept, and so well executed. The beginning phrase gives us the image of someone who has at last found what many of us seek in our lives: direction. Just when we feel that comfort, however, the end of the haiku reveals that the author has actually been given many directions, and therefore must choose one for himself.
Carlos Colon is not the most prolific writer of haiku. But what he has written conveys enough humor, emotion, humanity, and life to keep one's mind occupied many times over. His ability to capture essential pieces of the human experience in three short lines (or less) makes him an indispensible part of the English-language haiku community, and makes him someone who's work emerging haiku poets can aspire to, and be inspired by.
Works Cited
Bostok, Jan, and Jim Kacian. The Red Moon Anthology, 1997. Winchester, VA: Red Moon, 1998. Print.
Colón, Carlos. Clocking out. Shreveport, LA: Tragg Publications, 1996. Print.
Yamaguchi, Tazuo and Randy Brooks, Editors. Haiku: The Art of the Short Poem. Decatur, IL: Brooks, 2008. Print.
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