In the first act, we find a modern city that has fallen into sin; ‘sin city’ we shall call it.  This is meant to remind the reader of the fall of man in the garden of Eden (original sin).  This new ‘sin city’ is also diametrically opposed to the garden of Eden, filled as it is with synthetic and man-made artifacts, as well as human evil.  However, we do not suggest that everything made by man is evil per se (which would be absurd), in fact there can be an ironic and ambiguous kind of beauty which flows even from mankind’s’ more ‘synthetic creations.  The poems play on this tension of man-made beauty within the modern cityscape.

But if in Act one we set up the city as ‘character’, in act two we fill it with life and human characters.  And most of the characters we meet seem to be bogged down with sin and its effects (here we mean the effects of original sin, such as sickness, aging, and death).  We also see sin in its true sense.  This is a commentary on both the theological reality of sin in itself, as well as how the modern city can become a place that fosters human disorder.  However, in this section, we also see some ‘green’ emerging through cracks in the concrete, through images of nature.

Act three is a bit of an intermission with a slight shift in tone, but still has its thematic purposes.  Here we look at some of the goods that have been produced in ‘sin city’: namely, the arts and culture.  We meet some great artists in Act three, mostly musicians from the American tradition.  Although Act three is part homage, it ends on an ominous note, with a warning against misguided fame (although this is not meant as a personal judgement on any artists in particular).  There is also an understanding that, while some of the things of this earth are good, if they are mistaken for our final end, they will lead only to death and destruction.  Hence this section ends in a graveyard.

The final act suggests the redemption of Sin City, by showing how God can work His grace in any external circumstances, and bring conversion and healing even to the modern city.  Such is the ‘story’ contained within the haikus.

I was a bit shocked myself to discover I had written a story with this collection of ‘throw-away’ haikus, but that is what happened.  And so, I decided they were worth publishing.

However, before the reader jumps into to the poems themselves, there are a couple more things that must be mentioned.  The first is that I have been pretty loose with the form.  Excepting a few, not many follow the exact five-seven-five syllable structure.  In this way, I have followed Pound’s ideal of keeping the poetic line musical and not bound to strict syllable counts.  But for the purist, this may be a point of annoyance, or at worst, a matter for contention.  However, I have kept to some of the other features of the traditional haiku such as the use of strong imagery and the clever use of juxtaposition.  For those who are unfamiliar with the form, many haikus employ a kind of ‘reversal’ or ‘surprise’ element, where the juxtaposition of two seemingly unrelated realities create a kind of epiphany of new meaning.

On another note, my ‘neon haikus’ differ from standard haikus in that most of the imagery evoked takes modern cities (and not the natural world) as its subject matter, although I do include nature in some.  Another personal quirk found in my so-called ‘neon haikus’ relate to title: some have a title plus a three-line haiku, while others are just three-line haikus.  But in the world of the traditional haiku, there are no titles.  Lastly, some poems are not haikus at all, but are simply short poems. This mainly occurs in act three, where homage is paid to certain artists.  These may be more akin to Langston Hughes blues poetry than haiku, although they are more terse and compact than Hughes poetry.

You should now be armed with enough information to follow along with the collection, and for those who enjoy the poems and wish to go a little deeper, there is an afterward section, which will briefly discuss the meaning and symbolism contained in each haiku.  However, I suggest reading the collection as whole before reading this closing section, so that the magic and mystery of the poetic form can have its effect before any extra layers of meaning are added to the imagination.  Enjoy!

Ground Zero: This one is a 9/11 refence.  Although it is a little out of left field, it shows how tragedy can strike the city at any time, leaving its citizens with tears in their eyes.  It also reminds us of our Lord’s words on the necessity of penance in the face of tragedy, even if seemingly underserved: “Think you that these Galileans were sinners above all the men of Galilee, because they suffered such things?  No, I say to you: but unless you shall do penance, you shall all likewise perish. Or those eighteen upon whom the tower fell in Siloe, and slew them: think you, that they also were debtors above all the men that dwelt in Jerusalem?   No, I say to you; but except you do penance, you shall all likewise perish.”

Concerning the language of the poem itself, we have some interesting word-play going on.  On one level, the ‘irises’ are a reference to the human eye, which is ‘salty’ with tears. Here we are messing around with words as the iris is technically the part of the eye which is colored, not white.  But it could be read as the image of an entire eye clouded with tears.  In such a reading, the ‘white iris’ describes both the sclera and the iris of the eye, with are simultaneously wet with tears.  Furthermore, the ‘white iris’ is also a flower that is commonly brought to a funeral or memorial service, such as would have been held for the victims of 9/11.  Lastly, the white iris is a flower that symbolizes the Seven Sorrows of Mary, because the leaves of the iris appear to be in the shape of swords (like the seven ‘swords of sorrow’ that pierced Mary’s heart).  And, of course, Our Lady is associated with the color white due to her spotless purity.  This final bit associates the grief of Mary with the grief of our beloved New Yorkers.