Christopher ♉️

"Get Up, Stand Up" Beck Duffield Your fluffy little memes Catchy little phrases Saccharine little sentiments Short, dismissive wishes Your "too blessed to be stressed" Toxic positivity Thoughts and prayers To fictional deities Who are love but give none Who could save but never do Your gratitude journaling On the burnt pages Of our sanity And safety Is not Fucking Helping. You can't march If you're too busy Deluding yourself On your knees.

“Get Up, Stand Up” by Beck Duffield (text only).
#poetry #protest #resist #poetrycommunity #antifascist #antiracist @50501supporters.bsky.social

YouTube video by beckthefeministlawyer Beck covers “Come To My Window” by Melissa Ethridge

Wanna hear me cover some #MelissaEthridge?

Here’s a one-take karaoke cut of “Come To My Window.”

#queermusic

youtu.be/Xj822VLiQcc?...

YouTube video by beckthefeministlawyer Unless you wanna raise a sociopath, stop punishing your kids for having feelings. #parenting

Hey #parents! Unless you wanna raise sociopaths, stop punishing your kids for having feelings.

youtu.be/aNhwR9jA_60?...

a woman stands on a stage in front of a large feminist sign ALT: a woman stands on a stage in front of a large feminist sign

If being anti-predator makes me look anti-men, that’s a problem to take up with men, not me.

“The Line” Beck Duffield He’s going to tell you you’re special And you are But not to him. You’re just another In a long litany of vulnerable women He stuffs into the black hole Of his greed, Pushing the cycles Of gain and guilt and gain and guilt, But not enough guilt to stop it, Only enough to make him seek succor From your beautiful soul. The ability to see your value Is a common quality The desire for your attention Isn’t rare Stop spending time in the mouths of dragons Just to feel some warmth.

“The Line”
#poetry #poetrycommunity #feministpoetry #feminism

Here’s a copy of “The Line” with some fun Taylor Swift music. 💕
#poetry #poetrycommunity #feminism

This is the man who should be running our country?

He literally used the word “hate.”

How much more evidence do you need that this man is a depraved Nazi?

Yes. This is a Japanese woman in a kimono singing in Japanese at JapanFest.

She’s singing Danny Boy.

This may have been one of the strangest moments of my life.

#ThePipes

Cartoon by @macltoons.bsky.social.

Fuck the #ICEGroypers

An eight-year-old me watched fireworks with awe, Cried with Lee Greenwood, Asked God to bless America. A twelve-year-old me swore to protect freedom For everyone But women. A fourteen-year-old me was grounded For kissing A Black boy. Sixteen-year-old me wondered why God hated her For existing. Eighteen-year-old me saw Columbine and 9/11 And only one Spurring a response. Nineteen-year-old me didn’t understand why she was wrong To hang out With all the queers. Twenty-three-year-old me drove with the windows down And a gun Under the seat. Twenty-five-year-old me wanted a government That left me Alone. Twenty-nine-year-old me went to law school And was actually Educated. Thirty-year-old me was a brand new mother Desperate for support That wasn’t coming. Thirty-three-year-old me had two postgrad degrees and a job. It wasn’t Enough. Thirty-eight-year-old me watched the capital be overrun While isolating In surgical mask. Forty-two-year-old me watches my neighbors killed and arrested For loving America And being brown. Forty-three-year-old me will arrive soon, still waiting for her shot To exist Without America. Eight-year-old me watched fireworks, And cried with Lee Greenwood, And asked God to bless America, And that God listened. That vengeful, genocidal, jealous God listened, And he blessed America With the kind of hate Only a deity could muster. And whatever age I was, From eight to forty-three, America and her god Were never worthy of my blessing.

An eight-year-old me watched fireworks with awe, Cried with Lee Greenwood, Asked God to bless America. A twelve-year-old me swore to protect freedom For everyone But women. A fourteen-year-old me was grounded For kissing A Black boy. Sixteen-year-old me wondered why God hated her For existing. Eighteen-year-old me saw Columbine and 9/11 And only one Spurring a response. Nineteen-year-old me didn’t understand why she was wrong To hang out With all the queers. Twenty-three-year-old me drove with the windows down And a gun Under the seat. Twenty-five-year-old me wanted a government That left me Alone. Twenty-nine-year-old me went to law school And was actually Educated. Thirty-year-old me was a brand new mother Desperate for support That wasn’t coming. Thirty-three-year-old me had two postgrad degrees and a job. It wasn’t Enough. Thirty-eight-year-old me watched the capital be overrun While isolating In surgical mask. Forty-two-year-old me watches my neighbors killed and arrested For loving America And being brown. Forty-three-year-old me will arrive soon, still waiting for her shot To exist Without America. Eight-year-old me watched fireworks, And cried with Lee Greenwood, And asked God to bless America, And that God listened. That vengeful, genocidal, jealous God listened, And he blessed America With the kind of hate Only a deity could muster. And whatever age I was, From eight to forty-three, America and her god Were never worthy of my blessing.

An eight-year-old me watched fireworks with awe, Cried with Lee Greenwood, Asked God to bless America. A twelve-year-old me swore to protect freedom For everyone But women. A fourteen-year-old me was grounded For kissing A Black boy. Sixteen-year-old me wondered why God hated her For existing. Eighteen-year-old me saw Columbine and 9/11 And only one Spurring a response. Nineteen-year-old me didn’t understand why she was wrong To hang out With all the queers. Twenty-three-year-old me drove with the windows down And a gun Under the seat. Twenty-five-year-old me wanted a government That left me Alone. Twenty-nine-year-old me went to law school And was actually Educated. Thirty-year-old me was a brand new mother Desperate for support That wasn’t coming. Thirty-three-year-old me had two postgrad degrees and a job. It wasn’t Enough. Thirty-eight-year-old me watched the capital be overrun While isolating In surgical mask. Forty-two-year-old me watches my neighbors killed and arrested For loving America And being brown. Forty-three-year-old me will arrive soon, still waiting for her shot To exist Without America. Eight-year-old me watched fireworks, And cried with Lee Greenwood, And asked God to bless America, And that God listened. That vengeful, genocidal, jealous God listened, And he blessed America With the kind of hate Only a deity could muster. And whatever age I was, From eight to forty-three, America and her god Were never worthy of my blessing.

“The Fruited Plain”
#poetry #poetrycommunity #america

The update is sooooo good though!!!!

Almost like violent rhetoric leads to violence.

Every day we have to wake up, confront the most upsetting shit we’ve ever seen, and then walk around obeying laws and saying “it’s tomato season.”

Tomorrow night! Out Loud with Beck open mic poetry at Books and Brew in Tucker! 7-9/9:30, free parking, free to participate with purchase from Books and Brew.

Catharsis and levity on offer. Come get some.

#poetry #openmic #openmicpoetry #spokenword #bookbar #indybookstore #atlanta #tuckerga

That person does not spark joy.

This. Is. Theocracy.
There is NO REASON a government agency should be calling faith in a deity a “necessary precondition of freedom.”
They’re positioning any non-Christian as an enemy of the state.

THIS IS WHAT FASCISM LOOKS LIKE, YOU CULT ADDLED DUMBASSES!

“Social Kondo” Beck Duffield Neat little boxes All in a row Perfectly constructed Spots for things to go Cuz everyone’s an archetype Around a central theme Varied folk of every stripe An organizer’s dream You go here and you go there Lay secrets on the table My files and heart and head are spared When everyone’s a label That’s a friend and that’s a fuck The assholes and the sweet The easiest always label themselves Keep categories neat But complicated people Come in complicated shapes To complicate my boxes And ruin my escapes I won’t have the drama And I won’t fawn or chase My boxes won’t be big enough For me to hold the space But you deserve compassion And room to rise above The tiny little boxes In which I pack my love.

“Social Kondo”
#poetry #poems #poets #poetrycommunity

Couldn’t agree more. Silence is complicity. Checking out is the coward’s option.

That guy by Beck Duffield: irony is the bro that makes himself feel cool by shouting about being too cool to shout about how cool he is

“That Guy”
#poetry #poems #poet #freeverse

YouTube video by beckthefeministlawyer “That Guy” by Beck Duffield. #poetry #poetrycommunity #poetrylovers #poetsofyoutube

In case you like #spokenword rather than straight #poetry.

youtube.com/shorts/oJ8-I...

Sneak peek of the upcoming zine. Thanks to everyone who's involved to make this dream a reality!

We launch on Kofi on Sept. 30th, with a special sneak peek open mic on Sept. 26th from 2-4pm EST. All proceeds to benefit the ACLU. Come check us out!

#poetrycommunity #poets #writingcommunity #writers

Important. (Sound on.)

#SaveTheHotDogs

“Symbolic opposition does not reopen hospitals.”

It was such a productive and great day together!

Lovely trip to #PCM with @oikotavros.bsky.social . Gotta timeline book 2 while I finish the edit on book 1.

The weather has been perfect, the company gorgeous, the food delicious. I’ll take a day like this any time.

#ponce #old4thward #atlanta #poncecitymarket #dancinggoats