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As the title signposts, I Get Knocked Down is a collection of deeply personal poems that tackle some difficult subjects. Poetry can be tricky to review because it’s such a personal form of writing, and what resonates with one reader may not with another, but I found this to be a genuinely moving collection. Although the book is only around 100 pages long, don’t let the page count fool you. Nearly every page contains a complete poem (with a few spread across two or three pages), so there’s a substantial amount of material packed into a relatively short book.
Unlike a novel, this collection doesn’t follow a traditional plot. Instead, each poem captures a different emotion, memory or experience. Many of them are very dark, dealing with depression and the long process of healing. This is definitely a collection that reminded me of Sylvia Plath, which makes sense as she is mentioned as an inspiration in the foreword, which is dedicated to “Mimi”. Some readers may find parts of the collection overwhelming if they haven’t experienced depression or trauma themselves. Personally, while I’m in a much better place now, I’ve gone through difficult periods in the past, and I found many of the poems surprisingly relatable and comforting.
One of the darkest entries, though, is “Dust to Dust,” which reads almost like the lyrics to a heavy metal album, opening with the ominous lines, “Hell rising from a thousand thrones, / Singing out all but deathly tones.” The poem paints a vivid apocalyptic landscape of death and damnation through striking gothic imagery. At the opposite end of the spectrum are more introspective pieces that explore everyday existential fears. “Meant to Be,” for example, is only six lines long but asks surprisingly profound questions about purpose and uncertainty: “How do I overcome this fear / Of a future I cannot see?” Still, not all poems are so bleak, such as the lovely “Best Friend”,
You look into my eyes,
Soul aflame with love.
You see me for who I am.
Friendship, tight as a glove.We adventure each day,
Together, like a true pack.
Bonded to each other,
You both are what I lacked.
I’m certainly not an expert on poetry terminology—stanzas, metre, verse, and so on—but I appreciated how approachable the writing felt. Most of the poems use relatively short lines and compact stanzas, yet they still manage to carry a surprising emotional weight. The vocabulary choice is generally accessible, making the book easy to read, though every so often Buck introduces slightly more unusual words or references. For example, one poem references hydrocodone (Norco) while exploring addiction and the struggles many veterans face with pain medication, while another references kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold.
Literary fans will also appreciate the references woven throughout the collection. Edgar Allan Poe seems to be an especially strong influence, most notably in “Evermore,” which references The Raven to explore homophobia. Elsewhere, poems such as “The Eye” reference queer love, while “PTSD” offers one of the book’s most powerful reflections on military life and the psychological scars left behind. The collection also pays tribute to writers including Dante and Byron, giving it an added literary richness. If you’re someone who enjoys spotting literary nods, there’s plenty to appreciate here.
Another thing I appreciated was the variety on display. While the collection is largely centred around mental health and personal trauma, it never feels one-note. There are poems about pretty much everything you can think of. There are also a handful of political poems, particularly those reflecting on military service and the treatment of veterans. Even if a particular subject doesn’t resonate with you, the next poem often shifts to something completely different, which keeps the collection feeling fresh. I also thought the cover was a perfect fit for the book. The image of the burnt-out matchstick immediately conveys the burnout that runs throughout the collection.
I furthermore enjoyed how personal the collection feels. Many of the poems are dedicated to specific people, whether friends, family, pets or literary influences, which gives the book a warmth that balances some of its darker moments. It feels less like reading a random assortment of poems and more like being invited into someone’s life story, with each dedication adding a little more context to the emotions expressed on the page.
The only criticism I can really think of—and I should stress that I’m not a poetry critic—is that some of the rhymes occasionally feel a little simple or predictable. There are moments where the rhyme schemes have an almost nursery-rhyme quality, which can contrast with the serious subject matter. At times I also found that a few poems leaned more heavily on their message than on imagery, making them feel slightly more direct than poetic. A little more variation in rhythm and rhyme would have elevated some of the shorter pieces even further. Neither issue significantly affected my enjoyment, but readers who prefer highly intricate or experimental poetry may notice it.
To conclude, I found I Get Knocked Down to be an honest, heartfelt, and emotionally courageous collection. It isn’t always an easy read, but it’s one that feels genuine from beginning to end. I’d especially recommend it to anyone who has experienced depression, anxiety, PTSD, grief, or other mental health struggles, as many of the poems capture those emotions with honesty. Even if you haven’t shared those experiences, there’s plenty here to appreciate in the sincerity of the writing and the hope that gradually emerges throughout the collection.
Final Verdict: For fans of Sylvia Plath, Edgar Allan Poe, or Warsan Shire, and if you enjoy poetry that explores mental health, identity, grief, trauma, and resilience with unflinching honesty, I Get Knocked Down is well worth your time. It isn’t a light read, but it’s a deeply human one.
You can get your copy of I Get Knocked Down or read for free on Kindle Unlimited here!
