"carter" poems
Dear Me,
I love you and
I know I haven't been fair to us
For most of our life really
I tend to let others lead me
Sway my desires
And otherwise dictate my life
I think I'm afraid to admit that I'm real
That I'm alive and a person
Due to our ****** up past
But that's not an excuse anymore
There are good things in life now
Top surgery in November
Our job has picked back up again
And we're experiencing grad school
I understand that life is scary and
That nothing seems good for long
But we can move towards happiness
Choose to see the good in things
Stop complaining and
Focusing on the bad things in life
We can grow together
Find ourselves
And finally find the best way to be happy
OUR best way
We got this
I love you
-Carter
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 4:39 PM UTC
I think that Jimmy Carter
A true and noble man
Should monitor the voting
Check on ballots being scanned
Watch over our elections
The suppression of our votes
Long lines, few polling places
Jimmy Carter, that’s no joke!
I pray that Jimmy Carter will
Monitor our elections
I trust he’ll keep them honest while
We’re making our selections
When there is no paper trail
And lines 5 hours long
Votings not for weak or frail
Be Jimmy Carter strong!
The man can still build houses
Even though he’s 91
Please watch those ballot boxes
Or Democracy is done!
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 1:59 PM UTC
lick my face
toothpaste drips down my chin
my head is spinnin
squeeze my cheeks and kiss my teeth
you're the reason that they're clean
spit that mouthwash into me
so I can gargle minty sweet
It burns like **** but it kills all germs
I'll use the floss when it's not your turn
Final step: a glass of water
No more candy aaron carter
should we sleep or should we play?
I'll be the predator. you're the prey
we'll fuse our bodies like we're clay
nahhh forget it. not today
I'm fucking tired
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 3:28 AM UTC
You will never understand the contribution you have made to my life,
You are the friend that really came through for me when I found myself in strife.
No-one else could see past the mistake I had made,
They chose to ignore how I felt and fixated on my darkest shade
I have always looked up to you, you have always inspired me
You've always been the one I've looked at when deciding who I'd like to be
Please don't throw your life away,
I really count on you
I know that being here for me is something you can do
I love you, I appreciate you.
- Brianna Carter
You look up to me,
Quite literally,
But in this case you mean metaphorically
Yet similarly,
I looked up to you,
Size doesn't matter just a point of view
You are a better person than I,
As pure and beautiful as the stars and the sky
In harmony, elements defy,
The birds and the planes that roar or sigh
No matter what happens, you always come though
Shrug it off, move on, it's just what you do,
This is why I wish I were like you
Yet despite all this you look up to me?
I am blind, can't really see clearly,
But even I can tell you are a rarity
A treasure, and thus better than me
-Conor Blatchford
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 5:50 PM UTC
Didn't get the guy?
Don't get mad,
Get even.
Get up,
get out,
get well,
get fit,
get skinny,
get a job,
get in!
get better,
get a life,
get Carter,
get away,
get married,
just get over it already.
Jan 9, 2011
Jan 9, 2011 at 11:19 AM UTC
for Mark Richards
It was a spur of the moment thing -
One message freed us from Tuesday’s calling -
The next offered a morning's sailing.
So rather than spray water for Rocky's plants,
We skimmed over Carter Lake’s, crystal waves
With steady and ample winds at our backs.
Boaters and tubers speckled the waters
While verdant foothills smiled assent
From every shore and horizon.
Captain Richards skippered his Flying Scot
Toward the far off shore before tacking our
To and fro way back to the mooring ball.
In years past Mark had captained the Health works
For all the good folks of Pennsylvania,
But this morning he guided a much smaller tiller.
So we sailed and sailed under fairest of skies
In a swift and charmed little craft
Mark chose to call, Spur of the Moment.
Robert Charles Howard
Jul 26, 2022
Jul 26, 2022 at 6:29 PM UTC
My mother was my first coach
With blonde hair
Boy cut
And big arms
Mama arms
That held the whole world once
Teaching me fast pace
Before baby steps, baby steps
Until you catch your breath.
Then Medina
With deep laughter
He made us tell jokes
To get out of push ups
He stuck out his hand
At the end of the chain link fence
Where I spat my blue gum out
Into his dark, and rounded palms
That led up to his yellow
Menger Cheetah
Cut off t-shirt
In the form of a tank top now
Insisting that I don't choke
While I
Breathe deep
In through your nose and
Out through your mouth.
Berkopes was bald
Like a military man
The boys said
From action movies
He smiled wide
As deep as he pushed
Toes
Toes
Toes
Up the hills
Behind the middle school
In the cool of
White morning
Over dew dropped grass.
Wingfield had short,
Dark hair
And my favorite
Green
For eyes
She had soft cheeks
Freckled
With a heavy stare
Eyes up
Knees up
Shoulders back and down.
Carter came easy
With t-shirts
And bike handles
Pushing up one hill
16X100
In mid September
He said
You're a natural
Teach your muscles to work when they're tired
Three steps faster and hold that pace.
The fastest kid I ever knew
With hair longer than my own
And a pink head band
He'd run six miles before he met me for our five
Dropping back to pace
He said it was all about staying relaxed
Potato chips
Between fingertips
Breathe deep
Because
It's all about
Staying relaxed.
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 5:03 AM UTC
President Reagan sat by himself in the White House
Trying to understand what had happened.
He heard his wife scream
What have you done with my husband?
I want the real Ronnie back!
He sighed.
This is what happens when you listen to experts.
Reagan had been in debates before.
From Kennedy to Brown to Buckley to Carter.
He did it his way.
He won his way.
Reagan always liked stories and humor.
Details and data, not so much.
He always thought that statistics don’t feed people.
Because people can’t eat an equation.
But the experts said that he should have more knowledge.
Reagan listened to them.
The thing was, it was too much knowledge.
And Reagan had to be president.
So when he debated, he was tired.
The youngest looking 73 year old man.
Just looked ancient at this point.
He held onto the podium
As if it had answers.
But the podium gave him nothing.
His actor’s instinct called up an old line.
There you go again.
It worked against Carter.
But Mondale neutralized it.
Mondale was good.
Not like Kennedy, who was more passionate.
He remembered Bobby very well.
He would have made a great president, if he had lived.
Or like Buckley, who had the scholarly instinct.
Because he read books when Reagan played football without a helmet.
Reagan defeated both of these men.
But he did not beat Mondale.
Because Mondale had answers for everything Reagan said.
Reagan pondered to himself.
I must have something for which Mondale does not have an answer.
I must make something that Mondale cannot answer.
But I cannot tell the experts.
They are nice people.
But they don’t know debate, I do.
So I can file it away.
It would be a break in case of emergency punchline.
The phone rang and it was Roger Ailes.
Ailes said, Mr. President you were not at your best.
But the sun will rise again.
Use a laugh line as your life line.
Rely on personal experiences, not dead data.
Remember Mr. President this is your re-election.
Reagan took that to heart.
And the second time around, Ronnie was back.
He grinned because this time it was fun.
But Mondale was still good.
And then the question came.
The question for which Ronnie was born.
It was about President Kennedy’s working hours during crisis.
And if Reagan had the stamina to match Kennedy.
Reagan smiled.
It was time to pull out the joke.
He said, I will not make age an issue in this campaign.
I will not exploit for political purposes my opponent’s youth and inexperience.
Reagan delivered it perfectly.
And suddenly, he heard laughter
Laughter from the questioners.
Laughter from the audience.
Even laughter from Mondale.
Tears of laughter.
Reagan drank his water and smiled.
The Gipper scored a touchdown again.
And hit it out of the park.
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 6:26 PM UTC
A thriving port
A declining port
A potential port
Cliches
A dockland
A wasteland
A stones throw
From my home
A docker
A carter
A clark
No vacancy
USA
EEC
A History
Our dockland
A grain store
A butter mountain
A starving world
An unused fountain
A dock village
A flower show
No work for
A dockland
copyright/all rights reserved Joe Fogg 2011
Jul 27, 2011
Jul 27, 2011 at 11:26 AM UTC
keep Knocking on heavens door
just chillin on the stoop
nevermore
on top of the world
how bout you?
so you feel alright
kicking it back on the street.
Ya you got your Cadillac
you trying to be discrete,
man your just a drug dealing *****
Standing on the corner
looking like a **********
It looks like you made a switch
To the other side of the game
****** to many *****
lost your needs
just the Taliban
***** concrete
So you say
**** the world
I say **** you too
Ya your just playing with fire
Dwayne Carter
Everybody can be their own martyer
Gonna take them down
Down to the ground
Athens
Serpents corrupting
How’s that feel
comin straight outta my mind?
Do you feel anysort of negative vibes?
Ya im the stoner that cares
now who the **** are you.
I kno the **** is alright
sometimes I gotta medicate the mind
Wake up from your trance
don’t you see whats sublime?
The plant is an herb
grows from the ground
that’s as green as life itself
ts something you gotta enhance.
Why you gotta distribute
all this pollution for the mind?
You ******* wonder
why ****** get a bad rap.
You say you want to be treated
by your stance
but in return
your just ******* with romance
You want us to trust you like any other man
but then you go stealing our ****
now what the ****
am I suppose to do
**** I heard you got an issue
Its just something
you gotta breakthrough
but no matter how gangster you are
in your own little world
its time for a reissue.
So go ahead and keep selling them rocks
You can make all the money in the world
and still never have ****
The sun is shinning bright today
there’s not a cloud in the sky
you have a choice
what are you to do?
just chilling on the stoop
I feel like I’m on top of the world
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 6:05 PM UTC
You wouldn't welsh on a bet with your ******
And you wouldn't go to bed with the mob.
You wouldn't mess with a street gang ****
No matter if he's crab, or slob.
You wouldn't backstab a man on death row,
Cause you know he just might **** ya.
If you've got the gumption.
You wouldn't have it long,
If you cross Evil Nurse Sheila.
You shouldn't be like the fool who tried
To play games with her heart.
She left him a crushed, empty man.
Well, he was doomed from the start.
Sheila isn't a ******
And you'd better not let her hear
You snickering about her at the social club.
You might not have time to fear.
Sheila's makes the headlines
Each time she tries to settle down.
She plans to live a carefree life,
But soon she has to leave town.
Everything she does
Is warped, but in the name of love.
Except when she hates your guts,
When it's Sheila you've run afoul of.
If you've never heard her story.
You'd best take this advise.
If you cross her path just keep walking,
You best not look back twice.
Evil Nurse Sheila's got a heart of stone
That looks like a heart of gold.
If you are responsible for it's tarnish,
There's no hope to which you can hold.
Sheila takes no prisoners.
She don't take any guff.
If she thinks to give you a warning,
You'd better not call her bluff.
You wouldn't want to rouse her wrath,
Because her fury won't be tamed.
She's restless, bold and beautiful.
She cannot be contained.
It seems things have been quiet.
She's been off the grid some time.
If she thinks that you might suspect her,
You may be her next crime.
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 4:01 PM UTC
Words are made of thoughts.
I wish they'd intrude. I am lonely,
unemployed with a nine to seven routine
of various activities.
A malignant trend courses through the head.
Broadcasting it outside in the realm of trust
where I am blank but set to go, it would have
the appearance of a finely ambient glass of chocolate milk.
Sometimes I'm asked why the relevance hinges on me.
If I had to say, it's because I keep getting vignettes, like something
out of a beggar's bowl, a wooden saltiness
that becomes increasingly less involved. And, like, everytime
I think about it, it's something similar to trying to walk
on John Carter's Mars; and all of this trivial, like, asinine
things can never match up to the draw, the pull of
whatever has been dropped, whatever has been shorn
unevenly like a badly eaten candy-bar. Or something.
I don't know why it has to be about me.
I don't, pull my weight, and recently I feel cold in the summer;
I have slept under a bedsheet since June.
That's not what this is about, or what I, want to project.
This isn't a prerogative, a jarring hiss of due-dates
incoming inevitably. I just **** Which is not a surprise,
like organic web shooters is a surprise, or, thinking up
something like a dead polemic of a sewer draining
the sordid leftovers of a consciousness.
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 2:00 PM UTC
I was standing by the window
On one cold and cloudy day
When I saw the hearse come rolling
For to carry my mother away
Will the circle be unbroken
Bye and bye Lord, bye and bye
There's a better home awaiting
In the sky Lord, in the sky
I said to the undertaker
Undertaker please drive slow
For this lady you are carrying
Lord I hate to see her go
Will the circle be unbroken
Bye and bye Lord, bye and bye
There's a better home awaiting
In the sky Lord, in the sky
Oh, I followed close behind her
Tried to hold up and be brave
But I could not hide my sorrow
When they laid her in the grave
Will the circle be unbroken
Bye and bye Lord, bye and bye
There's a better home awaiting
In the sky Lord, in the sky
I went back home, the home was lonesome
Since my mother, she was gone
All my brothers and sisters crying
What a home so sad and alone
Will the circle be unbroken
Bye and bye Lord, bye and bye
There's a better home awaiting
In the sky Lord, in the sky
We sang songs of childhood
Hymns of faith that made us strong
Ones that mother maybelle taught us
Hear the angels sing along
Will the circle be unbroken
Bye and bye Lord, bye and bye
There's a better home awaiting
In the sky Lord, in the sky
________________
"Can the Circle Be Unbroken (By and By)" is the title of a country/folk song reworked by A. P. Carter from the hymn "Will the Circle Be Unbroken?" by Ada R. Habershon and Charles H. Gabriel.[1][2] The song's lyrics concern the death, funeral, and mourning of the narrator's mother.
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 9:50 PM UTC
I work hard & play harder, expressing my magna carter
Give and take in life, you should see expressions when we barter
It’s the code of ethics,Artistrythe message
Quote the reference cause I been known to show the people who the best is
Leave you restless, have you wondering and asking questions
Taking notes it’s a thin line, anorexic
My manifesting counting blessings, mount the back of aggression
And tame the beat with my sessions from my adolescence
Now I’m grown dog, game of chess playing leap frog
Where the contenders, too quick to surrender, claim me the winner
In other words its competition versus me and beginner
Just a side with my dinner, been hot from day one, straight through the winter
Walk with my chin up, built from the chin-ups
This is my get up, that I flex when I sit-up,
Some used to call me narcissistic, I guess that’s realistic
Cause appearance means everything, put that on your wish list
Handle my business, even if it means getting me twisted
I risk it, I’m on the rise you soft as bisquick that’s ironic isn’t it
That’s the same biscuit.
Who the next in line? I know you got a vest fine
Ye, that ***** **** ill, right next to mine
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 10:35 AM UTC
aaron carter
my slobbering , always smiling labrador
the words of sylvia plath
the cold metallic feel of razors
and death.
but now, i think myself might be a candidate.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 11:52 AM UTC
I never thought you were the type of guy to buy drugs,
you never even have milk with your cereal.
I wish I hadn't known about your double-life,
At least try to make one of them good.
You have no right,
Going by your first name under the sun,
and your middle name under the moon.
Goodbye, Carter.
Goodbye, Wilson.
Goodbye, Henry.
Goodbye, Angel.
What the hell is going on here?
Underneath your clown of a husband was a paycheck,
Maybe that was all that really mattered, hmm?
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 2:10 PM UTC
“One of the truest, one of the few.
Your essence is pure, no need to subvert.
Nothing but goodness, joy and happiness exude from your core.
It may be said of many, but your smile has watts that illuminate the truth, lighting up a room as only you, Elizabeth Young, can do.
That hair so lush, like it breathes on its own, to catch but a whiff is to know that I belong.
Belong in that embrace, welcomed into your orbit, the feeling so special, so genuine, so joyous, that I’ll never forget it.
That heart, your great big heart, encompassing every room, but never wanting the spotlight to shine down on you.
Your gift as a giver, showering love with aplomb,
yet always looking out for others, mindful of those with less,
makes you a special human who always wants the best.
Your laugh like no other, a kinship have we,
sometimes those seeking silence, don’t appreciate the unique harmonies between you and me. 😂
Your essence is a gift that I will forever cherish, I am blessed to call you my friend, to love you is an honor.
You’re the other half of my sunshine and that can never be taken away.
Your radiance is immortal, your legacy unmatched,
Yesterday, today and forever you will always shine bright and show me the way.”
Todd Carter
7/29/2022
Aug 7, 2022
Aug 7, 2022 at 11:59 AM UTC
Fixed on salad ******* armpit ****
Passionate diaper ***** dodging queefs
**** fat farts and **** sipping
Squiggly nips dangling from a pig
coffee spitting ***** kids with sticks
sticking sticky ***** in **** like a *****
*** cream pageant queens spewing ****
Chris Kringle's candy cane **** tip dripping on lips
sweet **** water for your daughter
************ to Aaron Carter
**** the rest
I'm all out of ******* to step on
best be getting home to *** on my own chest
test the taste and throw out the rest
I tickle my intestines till I **** out hot stew
putrid black goo with nut chunks and fiber skins
stretching ball skin over my **** rim till it's all one
sack
use bread and sauce from a snack pack to make a sack
sandwich
hold the lettuce between my cheeks and toss my own salad
picturing *** ramming ***** spewing out tasty *****
gluey pools of chlorine smelling salty bliss
I picture gargling ***** while lesbians crawl all over me
vibrating fake skin ***** deep in my **** cave
if you misbehave I'll rip off your face while I squeeze your
**** in my teeth and make you sit on my face after you clean
your *** crease bleached and sweet
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 5:26 PM UTC
Deep ridge,
deplete elitists.
Gold flows, layers,
Dbridge,
enriched tone, gates golden,
heavenly.
San Francisco, incomplete,
switch robes.
Can't be beat, Klitchschos,
barking up the wrong tree,
rich tones.
Switch flows, risk it,
rich tea, gifted.
Unwritten, no gimmicks,
smooth months,
pale ale Guiness.
Wrap presents,
gift wrapped,
signed sealed delivered.
Dispatched,
Spit fires, spit facts,
die for the art.
Mismatched.
Calamity believe, nose dive.
Kamikaze.
No harder, fuel,
nose powder.
White knight in shing armour.
1688,
Spanish Armada.
Cut sharp like barber,
bananas,
permanent like markers,
malleable like lava,
pop like cava.
Polova.
Inscribe minds,
magna carter.
Magnificent bars,
gold tales told.
Slaves sold, reigns over.
Cold shoulder,
rainbow coloured mistakes,
shoulders shudder,
steer clear brother,
execute rudder.
Destitute,
Scuppered.
Destination under breath muttered.
Spread like wildfire,
butters, blindman, blackout,
blinds again, shutters.
Dunces, run ****
Jump **** loose lips,
loosing grip.
Tip of the iceberg.
Tip of the tongue,
no nice words.
Stigmata.
Godfather,
go harder for our forefathers.
The time is ours.
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 4:35 AM UTC
you stopped caring about yourself around the same time that
she stopped fighting, which is
to say circa 1977, when president
jimmy carter asked you to turn down your heat, wear
a sweater, and you still trusted that things could change
so you wore two and shut your heat
off. she was no longer the beauty you married circa 1960, which is
to say that she let herself go, which is to
say that you'd never loved her more.
now you're dead and she doesn't even
know it, but here i am getting ahead of myself again
and here you are hiding in the ground. i'm asking you to wake
up and you tell me no for the first time. your eyes stay shut.
now you're dead.
you finally gave up on keeping her home circa
2011, and you institutionalized her, and nothing had ever
hurt more. you stayed home alone. you
went to church. you visited her every day, and you prayed,
and nothing ever changed.
you went to the doctor. you died. you got cancer.
those aren't in the right order but you know
the story by
now. you can sort it
out.
you left me and i never even wrote that thank-you card that i thought about
for years, but i promise, i thought about it. i thought about
you.
here she is alone, here she is
trapped in her mind, here she is forgetting
you while you love her, here you are
six feet under, you silly goose. come home, we miss
you. come home, there's kolbas and solina and anything you
want, just come home already.
*After work, we visited Uncle S----. I haven't
seen him in years, and he's not doing well.
He's moved in with R-- and L--- after time in
the hospital for chemo and even rehabilitative
care. He's lost a lot of weight. But what's worse
than the cancer ("everywhere", as M----
described it) is how sad he looked when he told
us about his 52nd anniversary. He gave Aunt
L------ a card and she looked at it for a
moment, then handed it back to him without
a word. I can tell it's rough for him, being
away from his wife - physically and emotionally.
They say she doesn't really communicate
with anyone much. I think it's killing both of
them.*
i never wrote you a thank-you
note. i wrote you a eulogy three weeks before
you died. i brought cake but you're dead,
i cried for a week but you're dead.
i'm still crying. you're still dead.
i wonder if she remembers you at all.
Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 10:15 PM UTC
Love is love,
it’s not that complicated,
Love does not care what color or *** you or your love is,
because Love is all inclusive it doesn’t discriminate,
Love is colorblind,
Love Sees No Color Love wears Cross Colours jumpers,
Love is abundant, just ask Russell Simmons or Gloria Carter,
or her baby Jay Z or anyone else who is an authentic Lover,
Love is unconditional & it’s available to everyone,
regardless of class social status religion region or color,
it’s okay to feel good, smile you deserve it,
dedicate yourself to love, believe me it’s worth it,
you get what you give so give 100%,
remember to forget & forgive them, even if they’re not perfect,
because no person walking this earth’s surface is,
but you can still find yourself a good girlfriend or boyfriend,
as long as you’re willing to work with them,
& you two can still be your own version of Bonnie & Clyde,
can still be in love & serve them with services,
there’s wisdom in these verses here,
modern day scriptures for gangstas & hipsters,
they don’t call him LaLux or J-Hova for nothing,
no fronting true strength requires no crutches or addictions,
just enough Dedication as Lil Wayne to get to 10,000 hours,
as laid out well by Macklemore or Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers,
a Master of Self a ******* from Hell,
***** as hell but he cleans up well
I own all my Master,
you should probably own yours as well,
well,
the floods are coming, there’s some prophecy for you,
either ride the Tidal wave or get washed straight away,
washing the straight leg green jeans clean so there’s no proof,
only proof is us see our success & ourselves are Self Evident,
only witness God won’t testify against our business interest,
the evidence is obvious see we are all sovereign entities,
you are your own country so you are your own president,
a one person army a one person president,
who roams the whole globe everywhere’s their residence,
channelling these visions into verses of the present tense,
told you before I’m not a business man I’m a business, man...
Smile is continued in THHT3...
∆ LaLux ∆
an excerpt from poem #24 of
THHT3: The Hollywood Hills Trilogy 3
available on Amazon here:
www.amazon.com/dp/1950780023
If you've read this far I'd like to show my appreciation by buying you a copy of THHT3 from Amazon myself, seriously, for free. Just send me a Message here or on IG @aaronlaux
Sep 23, 2019
Sep 23, 2019 at 9:14 PM UTC
You sailed millions of miles away
To a place of no visit
When I was holding
No meaning of this day
Many years passed now
to me seemed it was just yesterday
You never turned up to say bye
How I wish you were here
To embrace you with love and honor
Showering you with gifts
Taking you to the end of the earth
But I only have memories
This Day is always hard for me
Without you by my side
I stare at your pictures for quite a while,
But can't get myself to smile.
More tears shed down my face,
It hurts me inside
but i only understand
that we were born to die
no one will exist forever
Let my tears be a gift to you mama
With mountain moving hope in my heart
One day we will share the same world of peace
EDITED BY : Cathy (Lady carter) , Trintus Chipeta and christopher Mbewu
FEELINGS FROM : Omar Jimmy , Harry Kaiwa, James moyo and Mercy Gaveta
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
1.Girl
Baby Girl, Glamour Girl, Strawberry Girl struts
Candy Girl, **** Girl, Bossy Girl fuss
Gansta Girl, Dream Girl, Independent Girl shops
Virtuous Girl, Glitter Girl, Hot Girl pops read more »
Brie Carter
2.Girlzilla
Baby Girl, Glamour Girl, Strawberry Girl struts
Candy Girl, **** Girl, Bossy Girl fuss
Gansta Girl, Dream Girl, Independent Girl shops
Virtuous Girl, Glitter Girl, Hot Girl pops read more »
Top Notch Glamorous Thick Chick
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 12:25 AM UTC