Twelve Haikus by Camen Gupta
Foreword
The "haiku" was invented and developed over hundreds of years in Japan to be a complete poem in seventeen syllables and to pack in a whole vision of life in three short lines. A "Western Haiku" need not concern itself with the seventeen syllables since Western languages cannot adapt themselves to the fluid syllabic Japanese. I propose that the "Western Haiku" simply say a lot in three short lines in any Western language. Above all, a Haiku must be very simple and free of all poetic trickery and make a little picture and yet be as airy and graceful as a Vivaldi Pastorella.
--Jack Kerouac, Scattered Poems
My daughter Camen’s haiku’s, presented here, I am proud to say, are the embodiment of Jack Kerouac’s vision and true to the spirit and the letter of the ancient Japanese art form as well. Ten of the twelve poems effortlessly achieve the 17 syllable requirement of classic Japanese prosody without even a hint of the trickery or awkward western phrasing Kerouac alludes to. The other two poems' formality hinge on Camen's southern aristocratic three syllables in the word "entire" and two in "hour." She achieves her task with the relaxed vernacular of her peers, her own linguistic traditions, and a dry humor remeniscent of one of her literary mentors, Dorothy Parker.
My own definition of haiku is even keener than Kerouac’s. For me it must contain the truth about oneself, however embarrassing or disappointing, and yet display an element of hope that is as honest as it is irrepressible. I believe these haiku’s achieve that as well. Camen's poetry, moreover, illustrates that the distillation of one's existential condition into three lines and 17 syllables can be done in an urban jungle just as cleanly as on a misty mountain top.
In a departure from tradition, Camen, like Kerouac, has demonstrated her own rebellious nature by altering the system in her own way, in her case by giving titles to each haiku. These titles have the metaphysical quality of there being still another self observing a self observing itself. I like that.
--Larry L. Dill
Communing with Nature
sticky and sweaty
a mosquito in my tent
happy as a clam
Smart People
ode to Debra Coe
scrabble - do you need help there
I see 50 points
Ordinary Day
why does my head pound
evil bitch in next cube or
six cosmos last night
Opera Night in Central Park
entire city
crowded steamy spot of earth
cop eyes my wineglass
Getting Old
metabolism
fat was never there before
so like - wtf
Consumerism
strappy and sexy
black leather catches my eye
firm resolve melting
Summer
ballpark in the bronx
cold beer sweat and jumbo dogs
summer's finally here
NY State of Mind
subway rush hour
a million angry faces
namaste fuckhead
le chat
she stretches and yawns
fur balls form all around her
long live sammy-poo
Nature vs. Man
misty mountaintop
doritos bag glistening
in the morning sun
Conservation
planet all fucked up
recycle your shit dumbass
small step for mankind
Story of My Life
blanket all spread out
bottle open food unwrapped
rain drop hits my head
Camen is as much at home with visual imagery as she is with words. You may view her photographic essay of Christo and Jeanne-Claude's "Gates" exhibition in Central Park in 2005 by going to Camen Hinkle’s Keys to the Gates elsewhere on this website. An excellent example of her prose writing can be found here also in her essay on vegetarianism, And Now For Something Completely Different. Camen lives in New York City with her husband and her cat, Samantha, aka Sammy-poo.
The Poetry Project
Complete Site Index
Home
larrydill@newhopejournal.com
www.newhopejournal.com
copyright 2007 by Larry L. Dill