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Oh My Rapture

In Oh My Rapture, Gemma White draws on her own lived experiences with bipolar, and her attempts to transcend it through the power of her imagination and the creation of art. Entwined throughout the poems in this collection are allusions to themes in The Red Hand Files, as every poem is a direct response to a different file. Yet each poem also stands on its own, a testament to fandom but with a self-awareness that imbues each piece of writing with unique insights from the poet herself.

ISBN 9781922830173 (PB, 62pp);
152mm x 229mm
AUD $26 USD $18 CAD $24 NZD $28 GBP £16 EUR €18
ISBN 9781922830180 (eBook) AUD $13 USD $9 CAD $12 NZD $14 GBP £8 EUR €9



In Oh My Rapture, Gemma White stages the politics of fandom in percussive, edgy and unforgettable poems. White performs intense moments of intimacy and yearning against a backdrop of grief, so that lines such as ‘you dumped me in the psych ward’, ‘you kissed me in Dixons Recycled Music’, and ‘my madness is a burnt orange fox’ become deep entanglements of desire.
– Cassandra Atherton, Professor of Writing and Literature, Deakin University

Gemma White writes with radical honesty and wit about mental and spiritual health, love, creativity and exultation in Oh My Rapture. The direct voice and casual tone of these poems make the insights that suddenly sneak up on the reader all the more effectively disarming.
– Claire Gaskin, Ismene’s Survivable Resistance

Gemma White’s poems are maskless. There is a streak of non-conformity running through each of these poems; a tender transparency and an unapologetic poetic ‘I’. You will find bold snapshots of “inflamed” connection and modern human disconnection conveyed in direct language.
– Amanda Anastasi, The Inheritors

Poetry that lives by its own rules, nothing you can find in a textbook. Full of life experiences you can’t make up. A total joy.
– Matt Ryan, The Munster Times

Oh My Rapture is a poetically immersive experience; a cool, edgy ride; an intimate collection done different; a rich journey through TWO hearts that makes poetry feel THREE dimensional. Reading each poem alongside the corresponding Red Hand File is like holding a tumbler to your ear and pressing it against your neighbour’s wall. These poems contain secrets. They are made for reading under the doona with a flashlight. They are deliciously voyeuristic.

– ali whitelock, the lactic acid in the calves of your despair

5 stars out of 5! A fantastic poetry collection by gemma white. her prowess as a poet truly shines through this wonderful work. a mixture of delicately constructed diction and fun, silly repetitions that show the struggles of modern life, love, and music. as a bipolar person, i really connected with her poems. the poems count down from 50 to 1, which i found to be absolutely lovely rather than counting upwards. a sense of urgency follows you as you get closer to the final poem, wishing it would never end. white’s range is incredible, and i truly adored each and every one of her poems. she portrays the human condition in such a way that is quite honestly both relatable and deeply meaningful. love, sex, music, death, dachshunds — it’s all here. i am eager to read more from this author, and i am captivated by her use of form and lyric.

–Nastya Sidorova, NetGalley

Gemma Ann White

Gemma White is a poet living in Melbourne, Australia. Her first collection of poetry, Furniture is Disappearing, was published in 2014 by IP. She shares her knowledge of poetry on her website, where she offers a free 5-day email poetry course. You can also sign up on her website to receive her e-newsletter for her latest writing news. Gemma has been published in many Australian literary magazines and journals, including Best Australian Poems. She also studied poetry at The University of Melbourne and The University of Edinburgh.



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We start the fires
We bring the rain
We praise the sun
We lick every new frond
in our love of the infinite

We salivate over every flower
We drum the limbs alive
We lay naked underneath the sun
We kiss while standing in cool streams
We slap the waves with pleasure
as we roll right into the sands

We are here forever and
for just a moment combined
We awaken the skies
for we are sublime


i-text i-talk i-eat i-drink i-piss i-piss
i give no shits

i-take i-walk i-eat i-piss i-waste i-want i-buy
i buy

i-text i-pout
shit out

i-come i-conquer
i wank

i-eat i-work i-buy i-jerk
i-waste i-want
i fuck

i-bin i-bin i-want-to-win
i-selfie i-drink
i try not to think

i-win i-win
i push away

i-vomit i-drink i-piss i-sleep
i-shit i-eat i-waste i-want
i pile more on

i-eat i-text i-talk i-talk
i-pout i-push i-try
i try

i-wish i-strain
i-vomit again
i-fuck it all up

i push you away


My madness is a burnt orange fox
Most of the time it is contained to its burrow
Occasionally it draws a crimson streak across life
Like a mandarin cloud at sunset
Its hues echo


Cat Power @ The Renfrew Ferry, April 25, 2007

oh beautiful she!
will you please come on now?
I’ve come all this way
please come on now!

where is she where is she where is she?
I’ve come here for her to see her for her!

does she have stage fright?
has she refused to come on stage

where is she, where is she?
I’ve come all this way to see her now!

oh beautiful she!
will you please come on now?
she is coming on stage oh the glory
& oh she is here now she is god now she she she!