About this book:
Blue Bird is a collection of poetry and prose by Magda Ayuk. Blue Bird is the necessary and enduring journey of self-love. Ayuk explores this journey through the intersectional pulses of freedom, race and gender. Blue Bird is the gentle reminder that we are all light beings, and deserve the peace we seek. Blue Bird is warmed by Ayuk’s Cameroonian roots, which drip magic on every page. She is from Canada, and currently resides in Seoul, South Korea.
Blue Bird is being released in April, which is National Poetry Month. The book is an open invitation to be unapologetic about who you are and to bloom as you find peace in rebellion. The pieces encourage readers to challenge what it means to be a man or a woman or other through true self-discovery, and to define themselves as they see fit.
Release Date: 17th April, 2018.
What I think?
Foreword: Oh ho ho ladies, this is going to be really bitchy, but it was a long time coming.
What an absolutely fucking bigass dollop of embarrassment this book was.
To call this poetry would be spitting at Bukowski, Neruda, Poe and all the other “poets” on their faces. Hell, fuck that. I am insulted on their behalf.
Allow me to elaborate.
Ayuk is a black woman, who probably has survived some real racial bias, and shit like that that honestly the human race should’ve left behind in the medieval eras, and not because it’s terrible (although it totally is), but mostly because this kind of shit wouldn’t be a thing in 2018.
And by this kind of shit I mean this garbage book with this kind of garbage “poems”-
tiger stripes on my ass
& on that space at the back of my knees
still i wear short shorts
how great it feels to be free
First off, that’s not a poem. Second off, that is not a poem. Third off THAT IS NOT A POEM!
It’s the kind of stuff you randomly think and giggle at after doing it.
And don’t get me wrong, I have nothing personal against Ayuk, just I have this big thing against people who market this kind of writing as poetry, and it infuriates me because I LOVE poetry, but I hate when you tell people about you loving poetry the first thing they say is “RH Sin is my favorite poet”. No offence, but Sin is no fucking poet. He is a man with a god complex and an I’m-better-than-you aura, and a stick up his ass. Have you read any of his stuff? God it makes me so fucking uncomfortable with all that good boy persona he puts off in his writing, like he’s some model citizen or some shit.
Anyways, this is not a review of a Sin book, so I’ll get on track about why I mentioned him. You see he’s a prime example of threeliners being marketed as a poem, and although there aren’t many poets in the “popular poets” of this online generation, I sometimes like a few by some.
But Sin and Ayuk are not them. Here’s why-
I am a woman of colour. I understand how people fairer than you might sometimes look down on you, and yes, definitely sometimes encouraging words from people like you helps, but you know what? That makes those words self help, not fucking poetry.
Alright alright alright. Breathe in. Breathe out. And let’s strip this book down.
A couple of poems in, the tone became very evident- female empowerment with occasional jabs at the opposite sex. I can deal with that. Ayuk goes on and on and on about how you need to be free to express yourself and the person you are is beautiful and you know all that recycled “know your worth” shit and how the female body is divine and stuff like that- which honestly, the female body isn’t. It’s biology. Calling the female body divine is like men calling their dicks divine. Darling none of you are divine. Both of you fart, and your shit stinks just as bad.
But then this happened just as I was about to DNF it, and I blew up-
i sit here wondering
how you could stomp on our vows for a woman who wears
black eyeliner around her lips
Oh you little fucking hypocrite! So it’s alright for you to show off your fat scars to the rest of the world and telling us how it’s good to be free, insinuating we shouldn’t judge, but then you walk right up to this other woman and demean her for her fashion choices?!
Oh no no darling, that is not how this shit goes. It is so fucking not how this goes.
But good for me, because my point has been delivered. Remember how I said a couple of minutes ago that Sin was giving off that whole I’m better than you persona, and how I hated Ayuk for giving off the same tone?
This whole thing was a proof for that.
She starts off by saying the female body, and female choices of all sorts should be celebrated and not judged, but then the moment someone does something she doesn’t quite like, all that bitchiness comes to the forefront. Which was what I mean when I said this kind of writing infuriates me.
First off, it’s not a poem- not even a brevity. Secondly the author’s fake angelicness (yes I just made up that word) is faker than Kylie Jenner’s lips. Thirdly please stop writing this kind of bullshit, because very few believe it other than you, and we’ve got enough people with the Napoleon complex to want another in the line up.
Allow me to conclude this review by saying that Magda has a big cauldron, she wants to show some shit into and stir. I ask her- can I throw you in it too? Just on principle?
Yes? Thank you.