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Human Cicada
Human Cicada is the latest poetry collection by Carlos Cumpián. Cumpián was born and raised in Texas and now lives in Chicago. He is the author of the poetry collections Coyote Sun (1990), Armadillo Charm (1996), and 14 Abriles (2010), as well as the children's book Latino Poems About Latino Americans (1995, illustrated by Richard Leonard). His poems have appeared in many anthologies, including Emergency Seven Poets con Picante , With a Book in Their Chicano Readers and Readership Across the Centuries , Hecho en An Anthology of Texas Mexican Literature , Dream of a The Tia Chucha Press Poetry Anthology , and El A Chorus of Latino and Latina Poetry .
Cumpián travels and sings cantos that bring together the condor and the eagle, calling the Indigenous people of the Americas together, as he teaches in an imagined kapulli of a Chicago high school and through this collection's pages.
Cumpián travels and sings cantos that bring together the condor and the eagle, calling the Indigenous people of the Americas together, as he teaches in an imagined kapulli of a Chicago high school and through this collection's pages.
112 pages, Paperback
Published March 10, 2022
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
October 10, 2022
A great group of poems. Really enjoyed getting some artistic while also very real perspectives from the Chicano/a side of my city, as well as reflections on the border areas which I also used to live in. I'm so glad I picked this up, such a worthwhile read.
August 4, 2023
Human Cicada by Carlos Cumpián
Prickly Pear Publishing, 2022. 101 pages.
Reviewed by Yolanda Peña Wright
Carlos Cumpián’s fourth book of poetry, Human Cicada, proved itself a pleasant surprise. The title alone is impressive. Its significance can be interpreted in multiple ways. For some, it could be a metaphor for the transformations of aging—whether physical, mental, or emotional. For others, it might represent the assimilation of Chicanos into contemporary American culture, many of whom have had to abandon the cultural traditions of their ancestors.
The deftness with which Cumpián handles his material stirs contemplation and appreciation in unexpected ways. The power of well-placed and well-chosen words delights the reader with their transcendental magic. Cumpián whips up such magic in the poem, “Snovember Travels,” which opens with:
As the plane’s cone bottom tip burst through white tigers
and dragon-shaped clouds that for five hours surrounded us—
I wanted feet on the Icelandic beach
or in the Blue Lagoon again.
The opening metaphor combines the majestic image of white tigers and dragons with awe-inspiring nature. The juxtaposition of the plane’s mechanical reality with the untamed imagery of animals and clouds stirs a sense of wonder and excitement in the reader, now fully immersed in the speaker’s experience. We are transported into this prolonged encounter with a surreal landscape. It’s ’s precise diction and metaphor-making that provides this sense of isolation and enchantment.
In the subsequent lines, he introduces a contrasting desire for grounding and familiarity. The yearning for something tangible is evident (“feet on the Icelandic beach/or in the Blue Lagoon again”) that counters the preceding flight through ethereal clouds.
Cumpián makes equally impressive moves to create a sense of fascination in the mundane throughout the book. Consider the following lines from, “Caw, Caw, Caw”—
Common crow cacophonies would entertain me
but these murders of crows faded away
and in less time than it took to say,
Cleopatra loved Marc Anthony.
It took a couple of reads on different days to fully capture what he does with those lines. There is a suggestion in the first two lines of finding joy in simple pleasures, such as a in lively chorus of crows. The lines continue, “but these murders of crows faded away,” reminding us of the evanescence and fleetingness of joy. The following line “and in less time than it took to say / Cleopatra loved Marc Anthony…” underlines the brevity of even the most legendary of love stories.
In poem after poem, Human Cicada prompts a deepening exploration of the transient nature of the human condition as well as the evocative power of poetry to capture those fleeting connections.
Yolanda Peña Wright earned her MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Houston—Victoria. Teaching undergraduate English is her day job. She also volunteers as an associate editor for the San Antonio Review. Her work appears or is forthcoming in Script: A Journal of Arts and Literature, Poets Unlimited, SAR, Rhino Reviews and Heavy Feather Review. She lives in Alvarado, Texas with her wife.
Prickly Pear Publishing, 2022. 101 pages.
Reviewed by Yolanda Peña Wright
Carlos Cumpián’s fourth book of poetry, Human Cicada, proved itself a pleasant surprise. The title alone is impressive. Its significance can be interpreted in multiple ways. For some, it could be a metaphor for the transformations of aging—whether physical, mental, or emotional. For others, it might represent the assimilation of Chicanos into contemporary American culture, many of whom have had to abandon the cultural traditions of their ancestors.
The deftness with which Cumpián handles his material stirs contemplation and appreciation in unexpected ways. The power of well-placed and well-chosen words delights the reader with their transcendental magic. Cumpián whips up such magic in the poem, “Snovember Travels,” which opens with:
As the plane’s cone bottom tip burst through white tigers
and dragon-shaped clouds that for five hours surrounded us—
I wanted feet on the Icelandic beach
or in the Blue Lagoon again.
The opening metaphor combines the majestic image of white tigers and dragons with awe-inspiring nature. The juxtaposition of the plane’s mechanical reality with the untamed imagery of animals and clouds stirs a sense of wonder and excitement in the reader, now fully immersed in the speaker’s experience. We are transported into this prolonged encounter with a surreal landscape. It’s ’s precise diction and metaphor-making that provides this sense of isolation and enchantment.
In the subsequent lines, he introduces a contrasting desire for grounding and familiarity. The yearning for something tangible is evident (“feet on the Icelandic beach/or in the Blue Lagoon again”) that counters the preceding flight through ethereal clouds.
Cumpián makes equally impressive moves to create a sense of fascination in the mundane throughout the book. Consider the following lines from, “Caw, Caw, Caw”—
Common crow cacophonies would entertain me
but these murders of crows faded away
and in less time than it took to say,
Cleopatra loved Marc Anthony.
It took a couple of reads on different days to fully capture what he does with those lines. There is a suggestion in the first two lines of finding joy in simple pleasures, such as a in lively chorus of crows. The lines continue, “but these murders of crows faded away,” reminding us of the evanescence and fleetingness of joy. The following line “and in less time than it took to say / Cleopatra loved Marc Anthony…” underlines the brevity of even the most legendary of love stories.
In poem after poem, Human Cicada prompts a deepening exploration of the transient nature of the human condition as well as the evocative power of poetry to capture those fleeting connections.
Yolanda Peña Wright earned her MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Houston—Victoria. Teaching undergraduate English is her day job. She also volunteers as an associate editor for the San Antonio Review. Her work appears or is forthcoming in Script: A Journal of Arts and Literature, Poets Unlimited, SAR, Rhino Reviews and Heavy Feather Review. She lives in Alvarado, Texas with her wife.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews