by Naomi Foster

In the prize-winning collection, Neon Vernacular, Yusef Komunyakaa conjoins history and memory. Trudging through trauma and dissecting his emotions with every line, Komunyakaa lays everything bare for readers. We watch as he unpacks his baggage and folds it all neatly until it becomes nothing short of a masterpiece. With inventive language and raw emotion, Komunyakaa tackles a variety of subjects—from his time in the Vietnam War to heartbreak, infatuation, and his childhood in Bogalusa, Louisiana.

It is because of his immersive way of writing that we are able to hide behind bushes clutching revolvers alongside Komunyakaa (“We Never Know,” 145), and we contemplate committing crimes to salvage whatever love is left in our fading relationship (“For You Sweetheart, I’ll Sell Plutonium Reactors,” 152). Without forcing the reader to take on his plight, he allows readers to make connections between the obvious and the subtle via references to other creatives associated with certain emotions. This gives us a better understanding of his feelings. Scattered throughout the collection are poems laced with references to Greek and Roman mythology, film, paintings, and music—a technique better known as allusion. Allusions place a sort of trust in readers, trusting that they know what the author is referencing—or, if not, trusting that readers will do the necessary research to fully grasp the poem.

The use of allusion in Neon Vernacular enhances the text by illustrating its overarching themes.

Allusion, while not a necessity in poetry, certainly adds more depth to the body of work. The word or phrase is designed to call something to mind, usually without mentioning it specifically. This “something” in poetry can be anything from another literary work to a Bible verse or a pop culture phenomenon. Allusions, no matter how abstract or obscure, are not meant to throw the reader off—but to shift the reader’s perspective to align with the message being conveyed. Upon reading allusions, individuals may pick up on references from history, literary texts, religion, mythology, and more, which evokes mental images and stimulates the minds of readers.

For example, if a poet is trying to convey feelings of heartbreak, they may reference the classic Shakespearean play Romeo and Juliet. Readers are expected to know the tragic tale of two star-crossed lovers, and making this connection between the play and the current situation in the poem allows them to see the extent of the narrator’s pain. This is seen in Komunyakaa’s poem “After Summer Fell Apart,” in which he describes a strained relationship plagued by mistrust and mistreatment. The poem begins with the declarative statement: “I cannot touch you” (Komunyakaa 102). Immediately, the reader’s interest is piqued. Who can’t the narrator touch, and why? Does the narrator want to touch them? Is this desire reciprocated?

The next line clears up the confusion when the narrator confesses: “his face always returns; we exchange long looks of a bad dream” (Komunyakaa 102). The narrator’s paranoia regarding his partner’s infidelity interferes with his own sexual relations. He’s insecure, and it shows. These thoughts have become so prevalent that he is no longer able to look at his partner without picturing the man he suspects has “had” her. The narrator brings readers even closer, admitting that he anticipates the night his mind will allow him to be present in the moment rather than obsessing over what may or may not have happened between his partner and the man he envisions.

Soon enough, the paranoia develops into a full-fledged crisis. When it comes time to engage in sexual relations, the narrator keeps thinking about the two men wrestling nude in Lawrence’s Women in Love. The allusion here is meant to demonstrate the degree and nature of the pain the narrator is enduring.

Originally published in 1920, D.H. Lawrence’s Women in Love is a sequel to the three-generational novel The Rainbow, about the Brangwen family. This book specifically focuses on two sisters, Ursula and Gudrun, trying to figure out their futures in regard to marriage. The sisters meet a pair of close friends, Rupert and Gerald, whom they marry. The couples go on a joint honeymoon, and things fall apart rather quickly. Whispers of lust and temptation circle in the air, but Rupert and Ursula are determined to stay faithful to one another. Gerald and the eccentric Gudrun, however, succumb to infidelity and sexual exploration outside their marriage. Gudrun begins an affair with another man, and naturally, Gerald is devastated.

This sort of betrayal sends him into a frenzy because his entire relationship with her revolves around his codependency. She is a crutch meant to mask his emotions. He is not able to fulfill his homosexual desires for fear of being judged, so he clings to women, like his previous mistress and now Gudrun. At one point, there is a scene between Gerald and another male character wrestling nude in front of the fireplace. Though it’s meant to be a scene of frustration and danger, readers can sense a hint of sexual tension—the skin-to-skin contact, the beads of sweat trickling down their backs, the intense stares. It’s an intimate moment between two men who are supposed to be in relationships with women.

By referencing this in his poem, Komunyakaa demonstrates his understanding of his own emotions. I don’t think the allusion is meant to hint at the narrator’s potential homosexuality, but rather to focus on certain emotions associated with it at this time. He feels guilt and shame for harboring resentment toward his partner, much like Gerald in Women in Love. The situations vary in context, but when readers do the work to understand the characters and the novel, we see Komunyakaa’s brilliance in making this connection in the first place.

Moreover, allusion can be used to simplify what otherwise would have to be explained in lengthy terms, significantly tightening up a part of a poem to make it clear and concise, ensuring that the poem retains proper rhythm while still having meaning. This is seen in Komunyakaa’s poem, “When in Rome Apologia.” The narrator pleads for forgiveness for his lustful thoughts regarding another man’s wife. He repeats the phrase “Please forgive me,” followed by an act driven by desire, before he searches for a deeper meaning beyond his hormones. He begins to question whether he can attribute his indiscretion to the “three Jack Daniel’s” he consumed (Komunyakaa 102). He then takes it a step further by suggesting that there may be divine work at play, saying, “I could talk about Athena and Odysseus” (Komunyakaa 102).

Athena is the goddess of wisdom and war, often associated with strategic thinking and protection. Her powers can be used to form soul ties, leaving both parties either united or scorned. Odysseus, a character from The Odyssey, is known for his strength and perseverance. Making the reference to Athena suggests that the narrator is madly in love, to the point where he feels he is being controlled by a higher force, while the link to Odysseus suggests that he will continue loving her regardless of the obstacles (namely, the fact that she’s married to someone else).

After reading Neon Vernacular and observing Komunyakaa’s technique, I’ve developed a new appreciation for allusions. Komunyakaa made me think outside of my comfort zone and put in the work to learn about the things he referenced. In conducting my research, I was able to make connections between plot similarities and subtext.

The takeaway is that allusions are not meant to be a boastful display of the author’s knowledge, but a way to engage readers and allow them to understand a poem’s true meaning. In terms of my own poetry, I use allusion because I feel that people understand my work better when they can make connections to the outside world. Instead of force-feeding the audience Shakespearean jargon in hopes that they will be blown away and driven to tears, I allude to events to trigger certain emotions within the reader.

At fourteen years old, I wrote a poem regarding my disastrous “love life”—or lack thereof. The concept was that each stanza dealt with a failed attempt at love. Being dramatic and hoping to add shock value, I titled the poem “Apollo 13.” Distasteful? Yes, but an allusion nonetheless. Allusion doesn’t have to be deep and sappy every time—it’s about the emotions that the reference will bring out in the reader. Going forward, I plan to employ the function of allusion in my own poetry in hopes that my audience can develop a clearer understanding of the emotions I feel.

In Neon Vernacular, Yusef Komunyakaa wanders around in his past, from his years as a young boy to his time as a soldier. He also uses his poems to express different sides of his personality: the observer, the romantic, the aggressive, the manic. Komunyakaa’s use of allusion throughout the poems allows readers to make connections to the outside world, thus developing a better understanding of the work as a whole.