love is not to tiptoe around the crust of your soul, rather it is to descend into the fire of your molten core without a harness, asbestos suit, or dry ice; it is to suffer third-degree burns; it is to gasp for breath; it is to watch canaries die.
Political, profound, profane. These poems of defiant disobedience crash through the barriers erected to keep us contained. Writing with humour and tenderness, Ali Whitelock takes us through the parched landscape of life, death, love, fear, regret and the unbearable sadness of losing a dog.
And particularly topical in the aftermath of the destructive Australia-wide fires, the powerful ‘this is coal don’t be afraid’ is a found poem made up of statements by Prime Minister Scott Morrison, the Rural Fire Service, as well as relevant tweets and quotes, collated to create an extraordinary piece to make us shiver.
It will come as no surprise that Ali Whitelock's follow up to And My Heart Crumples Like a Coke Can is every bit as glorious, gory, witty, and wonderful as you hoped it would be (and then some). I never cease to be amazed by this poet's incredible talent to tickle, tantalise, delight, and devastate. Personal favourite from this collection has to be NOTES from the six week course entitled: ‘a beginner’s guide to writing poetry’, but an honourable mention must go to if you have no eyes where do the tears go?, and (of course) the poem that became a viral sensation during the Australian bush fires earlier this year, this is coal don't be afraid. Ali Whitelock continues to give 'em hell, and it's an honour to watch her do it.
Oh my but this is one of the best single volumes of poetry I've ever read. Gut-punch poems that take me back to discovering the visceral truth-telling of Bukowski but are so much more playful with language and contain quick arrows to the emotional heart of painful internal memories. This is deep and dark and utterly wonderful.
borrowed from a guy i went out with one time but had to go and buy my own copy to scribble my endless thoughts and admiration into. i arrived at the other side of this book knowing fully who ali whitelock reveals herself to be (and learnt much about myself along the way.) some of the most gut-wrenching, heart hurting and honest poetry i’ve read.
This one hit hard. Favourites were scotland winter 2014, not much of a mother in four parts: part II, scene from trainspotting as it relates to self, it is different to forgetting, the cumquats of christmas past, who's a pretty boy then, mr sausage, all the offal love and, of course, the titular poem.
As a person who doesn’t read poetry collections very often, Whitelock’s work had me mesmerized. Use of metaphors and imagery is outstanding, she writes with heart and courage. This was one of those books that sticks with you and punches you in the gut with emotion. Fantastic work.
This is a style of poetry I haven’t seen before. It’s very much outside the box which I really appreciate. It’s a book that has inspired me and I really like how one of the poems was written in the second person. I’ve been contemplating a poem like that myself.