"brighter" poems
Brighter than the blinding flares of the sun, shimmering outward with power of thousands of stars
yet comforting
yet soft.
Filled with oceans crashing and wild, turning over ships, rushing under a powerful storm.
yet still
yet calm.
Filled with wonder and curiosity, yearning for the unknown, desperate for enlightenment
yet wise
yet content.
Eyes so wide, so deep, filled with delicate roses, the power of mighty warriors, elegant as the flowing dress of Venus, filled with souls of thousands, with passion, with yearning, with desire.
Filled with beauty
Filled with you.
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 4:05 AM UTC
Sometimes your heart needs to be broken
So you can see what's underneath,
To the flicker and flame of your soul
That you've always been destined to meet.
Sometimes your spirit shines brighter
Through the glimmering light of your tears,
And when you arrive at the end of it all
Love will outshine the darkest of years
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 8:08 PM UTC
I never thought I would fall for you twice,
but here I am writing this poem.
I'm just a dandelion lost in this greenhouse
surrounded by these blooming beauties.
But hoping, hopefully
you would make a wish out of me.
You've got this look that makes me crave adventure.
You've got mountains in your eyes
and the northern wind in your soul.
I can't remember the last thing you said to me
and that's okay.
We never talked much thanks to my anxiety.
I'm not too far but my words have failed me so many moons
how am I suppose to talk to you?
You've got your future gripped tight by the wrist
and my hands are lost in all this space.
Maybe sometime in the years to come, I'll discover your footprints
and remember my high school crush all over again.
I'll stop and think if you're out in California making coffee for people,
like I overheard you say you wanted to do in math class that one time,
or strumming a guitar solo on stage somewhere in the city.
I just hope wherever you find yourself in time to come you're happy and smiling brighter than the stars.
I know not much will happen in these last eight months we have together,
but I want to thank you for the day you introduced yourself to me because you knew no one else in the class.
I know I'm just a dandelion in this great big greenhouse,
but I'm just really happy that you noticed me.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 6:51 PM UTC
I don’t care how
or care what you do
to make it happen;
I just told you
make me shine
so slather me in turpentine.
I want the sun to shrink
and the world turn dark,
when she’ll no longer rise
after she rests her eyes
upon my fiery spark.
I want the moon to swoon
and raise the tides
when he looks for the sun,
but instead
it’s my beauty that he finds.
I want the stars to bow down
and shower me in gold
when I shine brighter
and reach higher
than the stars of old.
I want storms to make
the world stir
when I walk upon
their earth,
no matter what it’ll take.
I don’t care
if it kills me;
just answer my plea.
I just want, so badly,
to shine,
so slather me in turpentine.
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 9:11 PM UTC
*He sat by a furnace of seven-fold heat,
As He watched by the precious ore.
And closer He bent with a searching gaze,
As He heated it more and more.
He knew He had ore that could stand the test
And He wanted the finest gold,
To mold as a crown, for the king to wear,
Set with gems of price untold.
So He laid our gold in the burning fire,
Tho’ we fain would say Him "nay."
And watched the dross that we had not seen
As it melted and passed away.
And the gold grew brighter and yet more bright,
But our eyes were dim with tears,
We saw but the fire, not the Master’s hand,
And questioned with anxious fears.
Yet our gold shone out with a richer glow
As it mirrored a form above,
That bent o’er the fire, though unseen by us
With a look of ineffable love.
Can we think it pleases His loving heart
To cause us a moment's pain?
Ah, no! But He sees through the present cross
The bliss of eternal gain.
So He waited there with a watchful eye,
With a love that is strong and sure.
And His gold did not suffer a bit more heat
Than was needed to make it pure.
~ A.F. Ingler*
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 8:29 AM UTC
I Don't Average Out
I remember crying during lunch my senior year —
my math teacher's eyebrows colliding,
one plane folding into a fractal.
He had sat there, nearly four years,
watching me struggle through an unreal number of numbers —
literally and figuratively —
while again and again the test scores whispered:
You
are less
than average.
But behind the eyes of a determined man
my insecurities never won.
He refused to believe the numbers.
He was searching for some unspoken meaning —
and so was I.
I almost found it the day of graduation.
I almost found it between his eyebrows,
creased like a point of pride —
because I was the first of my family
to hold something as light as a diploma
instead of a heavy head,
nodding under the weight of ******
The first to feel like a feather
instead of a six-pack,
a bad back,
the slow grind of manual labor.
I was flying.
Then college tried to land me.
Again I let an institution measure me.
Test scores trying to tell me what I was worth —
intelligence reduced to something
too narrow to understand its own diversity.
Less than average, they said.
But I wasn't below the line —
I was just outside it.
An individual
above their point of comparison.
I could read a room like a text.
I could build connection out of nothing.
I could debate, move, make people feel something.
Gold doesn't average out either.
So I learned —
it wasn't the diploma I should have chased.
Not the thing I'd wave at my little brothers and sisters
to show them how to live better,
burn brighter,
burn longer.
Here I am.
Red-faced and unafraid.
Spoken word was always there —
hiding between the creases of my teacher's brow,
folded into the question I didn't know I was asking.
The answer was never in his book.
It was in his look.
In his refusal to quit on me.
I could have found it sooner
if I'd known what I was searching for.
I
am
not
stupid.
I haven't failed by choosing something
the institution doesn't recognize.
I am not defined by a score,
a line,
a rule,
a rhyme.
I don't average out —
and that is not a weakness.
Power isn't in a piece of paper.
Power is in your words.
In your chosen behavior.
In the silence you finally break.
The answer was never in his textbook —
it was in his persistence.
In the way he looked at me
like the numbers were wrong.
He just didn't have the words to say it.
But I do.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 2:16 PM UTC
Middle School
Full of friends and love
Hate and lust
Being thrown under the bus
Doing the right thing
Is harder than it sounds
Harder than it looks, too
Always wanting to be found
Rescued from the abyss
That feeds off of your sadness
That doesn’t know when to stop
That will make you collapse
Needing support
Wherever you can find it
Taking it from others
If it means peace
Life upside-down
Never know how
To turn your life over
That frown upside-down
So when you find peace
Wherever you find it
You never want to leave it
But sometimes you must
Coming back to resurface
After all the sadness
You see the world differently
Then you saw it before.
People can help
But sometimes they don’t
Sometimes they think their helping
But really they’re not
Don’t fall for the lies
The deceptions they place
To try and make you come with them
And do the wrong things
Because in the end, you’ll find
You never wanted to be with them
You just want to be you
And not just some hologram
Embrace who you are
And what you’ve gone through
No matter what it is
Walk up with open arms
Take what you have
And don’t worry about what you don’t
Because in the end, you’ll find
There’s nothing wrong with you
You’ve been through high times
And low ones, too
But no matter what had happened
You found your way through
Through the darkness, you emerged
Opening your eyes
To a new world of color
Without wearing a disguise
Learning who you are
Can change how you act
Change how you feel
Even change how you react
Because now you know
How to see in color
No longer in the darkness
World seeming brighter
Every day can be a good one
If you know how to live it
All you have to do
Is change how you see it
Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 3:30 PM UTC
Casualty: my interest fading
Once waxing moon now seen waning
And I did concede your irksome warning
And watched as the rest played out
So let bygones be gone, fallen out by the side
Of this road, worn down, still restless, keeping straight
Eyes glinting off token little bits of hospitality
Mother nature being so inclined at times
The stress so unnerving, I hardly doubt it
But tension is eased once it comes to acceptance
And I accept in full, finding time to unwind
Winding stretch of lonely road, dotted here and there by
An occasional landmark
Or a lonely tractor pulling behind it
Iron bars, old and rusted
Found in their hold
Bales of hay or
A small little pond
With a bench beside it
Holding initials carved against the grain
With a heart surrounding
As mine beats slower
At last, the sun begins going down
And the moon grows brighter
Even in its state
And my feet move faster
Though my body is withering
I feel this separation growing
As my mind takes flight and leaves me
Behind, in the twisting twilight
And alone, I walk along
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 6:31 AM UTC
Someone stole my color
And threw it to the wind
Scattered like ashes
I don’t know if I’ll ever find it
Someone stole my color
From the face I know so well
I saw it in the cotton candy clouds
And the teal ocean swell
Someone stole my color
I guess that’s where it went
The world looks so much brighter
Like something heaven-sent
Someone stole my color
And that’s what no one knows
Depression isn’t black
It’s the color of a rose
It’s the light orange in a sunset
And the yellow of a peach
Light blue, my favorite color
So simply out of reach
Purple like my favorite eyeshadow
No, lavender, I’d guess you’d say
And my favorite music artist
Although he has passed away
Someone stole my color
Now everything’s too bright
I suppose sometimes darkness
Isn’t the opposite of light
Someone stole my color
So I’ll wear grey and black
As if in mourning
Until I get it back
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 9:18 PM UTC
he called me
his sunflower
when he said that
my petals never shined brighter
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 3:06 PM UTC
In the morning, old becomes new
Birds sing as black slowly turns blue
In the morning, my fears are taken
My faith is stronger, I am not shaken
My fears are taken by morning's rebirth
Fresh as the dew clinging to my feet
In the morning, there is a new me to meet
Whom the blinding night has deemed fit to birth
In the morning, my flaws are still the same
Like the yellow sun, everyday like flame
In the morning, I remember yesterday's mistakes
And I know better what is at stake
In the morning, I let go of the night
I let go of the dark, I embrace the light
In the morning, my eyes are brighter
My dance is better, my laugh is lighter
My smile is warmer, my kiss is softer
My hug is tighter, my speech has no stutter
In the morning, I am all I want to be
Awake, refreshed, hopeful, free
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 8:12 PM UTC
let the LOVE
you form for you
be as formless as the
the SOUL it soothes
it’s ebs and flows
bring you to sea
so you can see
D I V I N I T Y
_reflecting you_
with Cosmic Sight
your darkness grew
a brighter LIGHT
at first WITHIN
but just be still
and watch as it
begins to fill
all you SEE
_with all you seek_
your clearer sight
forms new beliefs
the clouds all part
to let you RISE
as you let go of
what won’t bloom
and dance away
the heat of june
the summer Sun
has grown with you
its shining through
the cracks they left
your losses GLOW
with every step
this new selflove
you won’t forget
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 11:27 AM UTC
Oh I wish so much you would remember
those happy days when we were friends.
Life in those times was so much brighter
and the sun was hotter than today.
Dead leaves picked up by the shovelful.
You see, I have not forgotten.
Dead leaves picked up by the shovelful,
memories and regrets also,
and the North wind carries them away
into the cold night of oblivion.
You see, I have not forgotten
the song that you sang for me:
It is a song resembling us.
We lived together, the both of us,
you who loved me
and I who loved you.
But life drives apart those who love
ever so softly
without a noise
and the sea erases from the sand
the steps of lovers gone their ways.
19.3k
’Twas noontide of summer,
And midtime of night,
And stars, in their orbits,
Shone pale, through the light
Of the brighter, cold moon.
’Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
Her beam on the waves.
I gazed awhile
On her cold smile;
Too cold—too cold for me—
There passed, as a shroud,
A fleecy cloud,
And I turned away to thee,
Proud Evening Star,
In thy glory afar
And dearer thy beam shall be;
For joy to my heart
Is the proud part
Thou bearest in Heaven at night,
And more I admire
Thy distant fire,
Than that colder, lowly light.
20k
Ode to a Sunflower
I dare not speak against her beauty; beauty which encompasses the spirit of truth, the spirit of faithfulness, the spirit of light.
I was walking alone in desolation when I encountered the blinding sight of my sunflower. There it was staring at me with its inviting eyes, eyes which seemed a little lost, a little troubled, a little like mine. My hand trembled as it wiped the disbelief from my vision. The seeds which I had planted in an attempt to dispel my restless woes had sprout up in a seemingly un-fertile place, a place where I could not fathom I would find my Sunflower. But there it was in all its beauty: eloquent, mysterious and enchanting. A vivid portrait of heavenly grace. all could witness , yet, one could possess.
I dare not speak against her beauty; beauty which encompasses the spirit of truth, the spirit of faithfulness, the spirit of light.
From the moment I found my sunflower I did my best to nurture it, watering its spirit from sunrise to sunset. The beauty for which it possessed was captivating; stirring my very being like no other flower has prior. I spent days, months and years analyzing this gem. I wondered why this sunflower was so singular in its splendor, why after so long in my possession was it still shining brighter than a summer star painted against a black night. My admiration and love for this sunflower matured uncontrollably, cultivating in a whirlwind of blissful sunshine.
I dare not speak against her beauty; beauty which encompasses the spirit of truth, the spirit of faithfulness, the spirit of light.
Though my sunflower possesses the strength of a thousand armies and the magnificence of a thousand smiles, I sense a feeling of weakness when the wicked birds of prey attempt to uproot it from its rightful plot. I caress its pedals and speak to it softly assuring that there is a purpose for the gloom, and that upon all of us the rain of opposition will fall. I clutch its head into mine as splendid pedals of fluorescent beauty tickle my face, making me blush with joy. I whisper to my sunflower as I drop my seed next to her stalk, and I tell it that no matter what storms may sing, there will be no challenge to our garden as long as we continue to grow together.
Apr 12, 2012
Apr 12, 2012 at 12:43 AM UTC
You are my sunshine
I want to see you rise
With the amazing morning sun
And lie down with you
Setting with the sun
I shall watch you get brighter
Throughout the day
And shine the brightest with your smile
That only I can see
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC
i.
Happy birthday
To thee, dearest
Friend. Mayest
This remembrance of birth
Be another year for thou
To thinkest of none end's;
But a brighter tommorrow.
ii.
Resteth gal sarah,
Put away all of
Thine sorrow's,
Didst thou not
Knoweth; there's
A God who breaketh
The alshshayatin
Who cometh against
Thee.
iii.
Thou art not alone,
As me and mine Jane
Art alway's there to
Be, a friend in need.
Growing seed's, to
Help-another grow.
iv.
Mayest the morrow
Be for thou, as white
As snow; mayest the
Seraphim, who surround's
Thy worries and protects
Thy home, showeth
Thee the light above thine tear's.
Smile mine friend, a friend is here.
Mayest thy sight be clear, and thy crown
Be uplifted and flared. As the world's glare
Hast betrayed thine eye's. Observeth upward
Wherein paradise lies; as thou wilt hath wing's one day
O' laureate of poetry's net. O' brilliant friend; of Jane and mine.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Thepoet(Sarah Ahmed) birthday dedication.
Sorry Sarah day late on b day dedication... But a happy wonderful birthday from me a friend if you ever need one there as you have always been there for me and Jane and have always been a major blessing to me and Jane!!! May the heavens open to you, and may you overcome your battles you face in this world...
HAPPY BIRTHDAY poetic friend !!!!
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 7:32 PM UTC
the icarus you know
the icarus you knew
the icarus who has fallen
the one who is an icarus anew
has loved a star that is brighter than usual
but a star that shines just like every other star
nothing new
but a star can blind you when it gets too close
when YOU get too close
but icarus didnt mind
because you wouldnt know how blind you are
until the light's suddenly off
The star had fallen
Much like icarus himself
But he has fallen gracefully and at will
Unlike icarus who was ripped of his wings and had fallen ill
But together they stayed
And together they grew
Icarus and his star had started anew
But what icarus didn't know
Or rather, what he decided to ignore
Was that the sun was a star
And a star has to prioritize light over love
It happened once when his sun chose to shine, still
Even though it knew that it would melt off icarus's wings
And it happened again with his star
As his star starts to lose his light
"I have to go home and see to it that my light doesn't go off"
The star said as he prepares himself
"You're leaving me" icarus said
Blinded by his needs and his selfishness
"It's not like that my love. I would never want to lose you but I cannot lose myself for you" the star had said through his tears
He saw icarus was not hearing him
Was not understnding him
So he did what he swore not to do
He broke his own heart and left only with half of a whole
That was the last that icarus heard of his star
Now he wears his heart in his sleeves and his stars heart around his neck
And now the icarus you know
the icarus you knew
the icarus who has fallen
the one who is an icarus anew
has loved a star that is brighter than usual
And loves him still, but on a brighter point of view
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 12:34 AM UTC
Lollipops to cigarettes
Cooties turned to pregnancy
The cute little girls and boys we once knew at recess are no more, some are drop outs, some are on the news for ****** and others have seemed to disappear from existence
How did this happen?
How did the life we knew so well as children, filled with jump rope and four square, turn into the monstrosity of modern society
The drama now is about boys, drugs, and flunking school, the only so called 'drama' back then was when someone else had the blue crayon you needed to finish your color by number
Computers, televisions, and phones take over the lives of children nowadays, the big pass times when we were kids was to go back in the woods behind our houses and catch salamander, play hide and seek and cops and robbers when it started to get dark
Now?
It's lying to your parents to go out and get drunk, skipping class to go smoke **** and and turning the lollipop in your mouth into a cigarette
Did you ever consider that the lollipop tastes better? That maybe this sticky strawberry mess gives you a better outlook on life?
When you're a kid and you're happy with your crayons and hopscotch you don't care what problems you're faced with: if someones lost; find them, if someone's feelings are hurt; say sorry, if you wanna lose weight; lose it
This lollipop of yours has turned an upside-down world right-side-up again creating brighter perspectives and healthier pass times
So instead of curling our fingers around disgusting cancer sticks and pregnancy tests, maybe we should grab hold of that lollipops taste and lever let go...so the only downfall to life, is cavities.
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 4:32 PM UTC
Published in The Quill on November 19, 2014:
http://www.amazon.com/Quill-Fall-2014-ebook/dp/B00PNVT6PG
...
On being overweight (whatever that means)
Even if you were the moon, they would complain about how much space you took up in the sky, how you were too bright, wanted too much from the stars, demanded more light than the others.
And when you shifted, from waning to full to waxing to waning, they would remind you of how instable you were, how much of a hassle it was to keep track of your instability, your need for attention. Have you tried to be a vegan yet? All the stars are doing it.
You have tried. In fact, last week was your third try – an attempt, they call it – not enough, they emphasize, try again, they say this as if it is encouragement.
That’s when you found them - the celestial crescent, the earthshine, the perilune, how the lacus are lakes without lakes, why the Gibbous is brighter either way, especially during conjunction – all strung together in pearls.
You are a full the night you return.
As you reflect off the lake, you see Selene, Hecate, Mani, Tsukuyomi, Iah, and Thoth. You tell the stars to look, to breathe your reflection, to succumb to the glow and the beauty of it all, that you are not alone—
They laugh.
Say how historical that is, how out-of-touch you are, how myths aren’t mirrors, how you - you are not a mystery at all.
But when you died – if you died – (we still do not know) - they do not wonder where you went. They spin, spin, spin the entire night home, only once confessing to how empty the sky is without your shine.
But every night they burn.
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
i don’t want to be someone who writes in pencil
and eats too slowly and walks with eyes that
are glued to the sidewalk and tops of strangers’ feet
i’ve been underwater for so long that
i’ve forgotten lungs are meant
to be filled with air; exhaling seems
more like something found
on the second star to the right, rather
than a process that is meant to be
done twenty-three thousand times a day
i feel like an old woman who
looks in the mirror and all she can see
are wrinkles and white hair and tired eyes and
the absence of who she used to be
but i am not someone who turns away
from sunsets and pretends
that darkness is all i’ve ever known;
someone who thinks
the sun will never rise again
because the sun will rise again—
the words hiding inside of me will
find their way out, because
i cannot hold my breath forever
i am not someone who writes in pencil
and erases the bits that are too
honest and too imperfect and too real
to claim as thoughts of my own
i cannot keep my lips pursed and
hands tied behind my back,
i cannot keep pretending i am
a shadow of who i used to be
my tomorrows hold suns much
brighter than ones that have risen
over horizons of my past;
i have not reached the summit yet
there is so much more me
for me to become
each day, i am new.
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 1:09 AM UTC
She thinks that she is only silver.
Second place, forever and again.
But this girl ... she is so, so much more.
She is my dear, dearest friend.
Her soul, while brighter than the sun,
is tortured by confusion and things in her past ...
lofty goals that would thwart even the toughest
and a lifestyle going so fast.
Courageous ... and meek.
A warrior ... and a flower ... all at the same time.
Legions of followers, those who look up ... never to see,
the little girl who roams in her mind.
She will get were she is aiming ...
my heart believes in her so.
She is strong, stubborn ... so very brave,
and this child inside her grows.
Now distant, I'll still watch her life
unfold
from this abyss, for reasons that may forever remain
untold.
She is far more valuable than any silver, precious gems ...
yes, even gold.
No object d'art or more costly antiquity ...
has ever,
ever been sold.
I only wish that I could have somehow ...
somehow
made her see ...
that as my friend ... she was so, so much more ...
than merely silver to me.
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 7:11 AM UTC
This is past due like the rent paid on the thirteenth
Late better than never-- and I got this here forever
Flow like rain during any kinda weather
Keep this here close to my heart
And when the block comes, I don’t know where to start
Beat-beat Thump-thump
I'll just let the words flow from my heart
But you ain’t feelin me’-- You ain’t hearin’ Queen
So I got to bring you back to the forefront with my so⋅lil⋅o⋅quy
I remind you of all the things that had you fearin’ me
This Army of One, brighter than that star He created we call Sun
Under its blaze, us two can become one
(lets make our Son under His)
While I lay with fragmented words.... spoken
Promises I made to myself remain unbroken
And my gift is as natural as the slender ducts of my abdomen called fallopian
I am Woman
The prototype made perfect and pure
Whose prose is as tight as my kegels allow my femininity to be
Wrath your ******** may not be able to endure
Thought you knew a good Woman and tight ***** make you surrender on your knees
And dream dreams about your seed taking root in this royal vessel
I am Mother Earth
And this is my Gift—my Gyft
I am Myself and such a present I present to thee
For I AM Queen Poetree
So when I seem silent
When you think you hear nothing but your heart beat
Nothing but the cool air enraptured in the breeze
I am the Life that flows from you
I am the Wind rustling the trees leaves
I am the fragrance left in the air you interpret as another
I am the overwhelming sensation made between two lovers under duvet covers
I am the softness of lips and the sensation made by the flick of a passionate tongue
I am that empty space you try to fill with another one
So when you think you hear nothing
When you think you’re all alone
I am every word, every adlib of your favorite song
Every stroke every morning when you brush your hair
I am your deep breath because, baby, I am your air
I am everything pleasurable—every pleasure experienced since your creation
And it all stems from the balance of my concentration during this poetic intrapersonal conversation
I am everything virtuous
I am the eye of the storm
I am your hope, your future
I am the pages of your favorite novel whose cover is worn
I am air, I am sky
I am the clouds, and the Sun’s heat
But most importantly, to my core
I am Queen Poetess B…
Apr 12, 2010
Apr 12, 2010 at 5:53 AM UTC
I despise social media.
It's ugly, to state the obvious
Our lives are posted, retweeted, altered, reblogged, perfected, and photoshopped to exactly how we want to be perceived
We have the freedom to be exactly what they want us to be.
It starts with a few edits doesn't it,
pigmented our skin to seem smooth and sun kissed,
that would seem most acceptable right?
Maybe an extra like for the skinnier waist.
More reassurance for brighter colors.
Some more filters will hid the emptiness you feel with your friends
Another like
Flashier clothing, phones, shoes, cars, other simple words our eyes have latched on to
Another like
We urge ourselves to portray the life of leisure and effortless beauty, happiness, success,
Another like
But what are we enjoying?
Another like
Views of our changing world through a 3 by 8 view.
Another like
Events pass by swipe
Another like
and swipe
Another like
And when we managed to unlock ourselves from this grasp
We always come back
Like flies to light, more like scratches to a scab
Festering we find ourselves getting ****** back in
To an imaginary world, that if destroyed, would have no physical effects on their fictional beings
For without this world, maybe eyes will open
We will step past the boundaries,
and start to love our beings
unfiltered
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 4:40 PM UTC