Bones, Tyler Pennock’s wise and arresting debut, is about the ways we process the traumas of our past, and about how often these experiences eliminate moments of softness and gentleness. Here, poems journey inward, guided by the world of dreams, seeking memories of a loving sister lost beneath layers of tragedy and abuse. With bravery, these poems stand up to the demons lurking in the many shadows of their lines, seeking glimpses of a good that is always just out of reach.
At moments heart-rending and gut-punching, at others still and sweet, Bones is a collection of deep and painstaking work that examines the human spirit in all of us. This is a hero’s journey and a stark look at the many conditions of the soul. This is a book for survivors, for fighters, for dreamers, and for believers.
I don’t normally read poetry but I was really drawn to give this book a read. I really enjoyed it and glad I picked it up at the library. I could definitely feel the emotion throughout each page. Some poems felt like I even wrote them and it left me feeling very frozen, yet seen.
Parts of it motivated me to start writing again and finish what I started, but my self worth and self esteem don’t ever seem to reach the ways it used to. What’s the point I ask myself? No one cares what I’ve gone through, or how broken I am from the trauma and abuse I’ve endured but have masked throughout my life.
Thank you Tyler for writing these raw, moving and emotionally freeing poems. I know how hard it is to put your soul out there for the world.
I don't usually read poetry but this one caught my eye. All the poems were short but interconnected and the language was at times beautiful and hard hitting. Sometimes a line would describe a really specific everyday scene with such accuracy and clarity that it invoked memories I had of the same thing such as the way the author talked about the street lamps in the early evening. I would have rated it higher if all the poems were of a similar caliber but I felt like not all were strong.
The beginning felt a little all over the place and scattered but towards the middle the poems had a more cohesive theme/voice and told a story together of an Indigenous boy experiencing abuse and generational trauma.
One thing I really didn't like was the formatting. On quite a few pages the lines would run vertical with no spacing between the words running for multiple pages. I found it super hard to read and a bit of a stereotypical poetic gimmick
i did not bleed this time... i looked at my hand, and wished for blood – blood is how i understood the world. this time there was none.
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sometimes we, too wonder where all the abuse comes from as though we were somehow blinded by the same ignorance but we know the direction of our madness its origin
Although I’ll never truly understand the trauma and grief that Pennock’s put to page here, it’s the poet’s ability to transform their own granular experience into a sandcastle that draws me to the medium (along with some hidden passages). Some of these poems felt muffled by the raw emotion of the initial experience - and that’s okay, expected even.