"conducive" poems
The most important things in life are often those we have to choose from at critical times. They very often represent and determine the course our life will take and to what extent we have in controlling or shaping it. With whatever choice we make, opportunities arise and by making the most of these we realise the relative benefits to be gained or otherwise. Through our committment and willingness to achieve a goal, irrespective of what obstacles there may be or we come across, we move forward and progress is made in our endeavour. If the goal is something we have set our mind and heart on whatever setbacks or obstacles are encountered should then be taken to be the hurdles to overcome.
By repeated experience we learn the necessary disciplines with which to train or involve our mind and body to reach our goal. When we recognise and forego or sacrifice certain habits that are not conducive to our overall progress we release more energy by which to accomplish our end. By sustained right effort we put in motion the train of events that will bring about the right results, but we should not be too attached to the fruits thereof. Too much attachment is a cause of blindness, disappointment and suffering. However with the right mental attitudes including positive thinking and actions we should learn from and leave behind past failures by always striving onwards to our desired objective or set goal.
The best way to achieve this end is to include in some way the benefit and good of all those concerned whether they be friend or otherwise which will not be easy but will exhibit a spirit of high ethical standards and character and contribute to endearing oneself to others.
_______________________________________________________________
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 4:28 PM UTC
Potential
I was told I had potential
That I could do great things
But nothing has transpired
Into the glory that it brings
And so the bar gets lowered
As far as it can go
Until, it can get no lower
No more room for me to grow
Perspective is welcomed greatly
Opinions come and go
Focus is illusive
As well the ebb and flow
Focus is illusive
As well the ebb and flow
I've been stagnant without direction
As the years pass and I grow old
The consensus is its never too late
Or at least that's what I've been told
It's far, so far beyond my vision
Down that long and winding road
I once thought I held it in my grasp
But it slipped right through the fold
Focus is illusive
As well the ebb and flow
Focus is illusive
As well the ebb and flow
Greatness isn't given
Or earned through years alone
It's what we say and how we say it
It's with our words and tone
It's possible you've reached your peak
Up the mountain through the snow
It's still no cause to lower the curtain
After each and every show
Focus is illusive
As well the ebb and flow
Nothing is more conducive
Than letting shine your inner glow
If there's a chance then you should take it
Show us all how much you've grown
From the prince who lost his kingdom
To a crowned king on his throne
Not everyone can make it
The choice is yours and yours alone
Just don't become complacent
When the world is yours to own
Focus is illusive
As well the ebb and flow
Nothing changes without change
When you still have room to grow
Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 5:46 PM UTC
Lately when I've been walking,
I find myself staring at the sidewalk.
Thinking "I should just lay down,"
as if the sidewalk is the perfect place
for a defeated nap.
Lately when I've been working
I find myself unable to concentrate.
Words move around on the screen
and my brain can't keep up with my eyes.
Reading only to instantly forget.
Lately when my phone rings
I panic a little.
Fearing whatever is on the other end
is something that isn't conducive
to peace.
Lately I have started to wonder
If I was mistaken to hide my sickness,
to hide my pain.
Because now I can't hide it,
and the perception of me becomes
a crying wolf.
Yet I've always felt this way,
just with lips sewn shut.
Lately when I've been eating
I am repulsed by food.
My throat rejects it;
unable to swallow.
No appetite,
neglecting the consequences;
the hallow weakness.
Lately I've felt like
I am slowly killing myself.
Adrenal gland pumping,
at all hours of the day;
heart grieving;
stomach on strike;
body screaming.
Lately I've been trying to get better
but I can't tell if it's working.
Jun 15, 2018
Jun 15, 2018 at 10:06 AM UTC
Is mystery dependent on me thinking of mystery?
It is a safe bet.
For when what is central is knowledge, then I can only become aware of mystery if upon something new or unknown.
Thus, mystery is not knowledge, but the lack of it.
Mystery is ignorance.
Thus, my meditation is rather reflection on ignorance,
As if I'm trying to better describe ignorance, or find a way out of ignorance with only the experiential.
I think of mostly consciousness and the universe here, in terms of my and humanity's ignorance of them.
Not only am I limited by my own understanding but also the understanding of others, however much they are even more intelligent than me.
I see others working on problems that have proven to not solve the mystery, the mystery being ignorance.
The only thing that could solve it is omniscience.
Then it follows that what I'm really trying to solve is omniscience.
"Infinite cognition" as the Buddha put it.
Even if a person could have omniscience, it would be colored by how they can make sense of reality.
Knowledge would take the form of what is most familiar.
Thus, when wondering about a question as to what is pi, they may say about 3.14.
The answer conditioned on how people and the omniscient one would have the capacity to hear.
Maybe this seems more like intuition.
But omniscience would denote the person as a speaker, yet only allowable to speak as what was conducive for everyone's best.
This is how Baha'is look at Manifestations of God: only allowed to share a certain amount at a time.
Just as the Son said "I have many things to share with you, but you cannot hear them now".
Still their capacity would be limited to what they themselves were interested in.
For one who is marginalized and oppressed or even thronged by multitudes, often has no willingness to delve deeply into subject matter, it causing some to stray from a correct path.
Since fractal systems work strongest in more diverse settings, it would seem that the very thing that makes it strong also makes its capacity to hear weak.
Omniscience therefore, if given to only a few, has a limited range of effect.
But even this limited range would change the entire system.
As Baha'u'llah calls His followers "the leaven" and the Son calls His followers "the salt".
"Many are called but few are chosen" seems derogatory in a world where "ye are all the leaves of one tree".
World consciousness almost arose to love tonight, but the lover ensared it in his anger once again.
If I close my ears to them, will it go away?
If they close my ears to me, will I go away?
Strength in the diversity of parts.
Strength really meaning pain.
E Pluribus Unum.
Mar 8, 2021
Mar 8, 2021 at 1:30 AM UTC
Fiery sun glimmered
From mornig till noon.
Then it drizzled all night
When came watery moon.
Environment was conducive,
Soaked and sunned was mud.
Mystical & magical moment!
Came into bieng tickly bud.
But something went wrong,
Frail being never bloomed.
Scarce water or poor light ?
Bud wilted and was doomed.
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 12:51 PM UTC
Arduous late Winter
woes amplify in February
false hope
We’re all sick
of constrictive clothes
and cold climes conducive to staying in
Cabin fever running rampant
45° t-shirts & sunglasses
everyone driving with their windows down
Hoping Vernal rituals
performed early will
hasten Spring’s arrival
I’m done
fed up
ready to move on
Going crazy in the cold
writhing to get moving unimpeded
by frigidness and snow
I’m ready for Spring
for Summer
for Fall
I’m ready for the scent
of thawing soil in the air
biking in the Sun, verdance, and flowers in bloom
I’m ready for grass between my toes
Fireflies, crickets, peepers
and warm night stars
I’m sick of frost reddened runny raw noses
sick of numb fingers and toes
and having precious few daylight hours
I’m sick of combatting glacial winds with layers,
of treacherous icy apathy,
and dreary bleak boredom
I’m sick of not being able to sit on the ground
sick of long pants, long socks, long sleeves,
and silent stagnant long nights
So, despite the fact
that I’ll pine for January
every day over 90°
Despite the fact
that when mosquitoes swarm
I’ll wish a frost would **** the little ********
and despite the fact
I’ll get just as fed up
with temperate seasons
I still want Spring
and then Summer
and then Fall
But February brings false hope
and despite the lengthening cheery sun
months still stand
between us and t-shirt weather
mild nights, grassy hills,
and emancipation from an inclement icebox atmosphere
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 8:50 AM UTC
Soft and firm, gentle and fierce,
A parting breath smothers on skin.
Wild and wanting, surrendered and stroking,
Fingers are searching and home.
Quiet, now listening, anticipating, wishing
Until the spell breaks beneath lips -
Blushing it comes, blooming it bursts
Against symphonies and rhapsodies
With melodies heaving, heavy, unheard.
Gasping for life, holding more tight
To another so fragile, human, finite
Stealing, giving, alternately taking
An appetite destructive, delicious,
Desiring, raging;
Flesh upon flesh, ragged, receiving.
Twisting, bones resisting,
A common ground with no space between
Reaching and holding, pressing and pulling,
Synchronized in silent sweet rhythms of time
Warm, willing, fantasies thrilling, perspire
Lovely and lucid, writhing, conducive
As dancing flames to the fire.
Thoughts are melting to muddle
Into puddled pools of passion
Dripping, swirling, flooding, licking
The innermost walls of the cowering mind
Bodies and hearts are pulsing, repeating,
Beating and bruising, until each breath
Is ****** divine.
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 7:56 PM UTC
Mad Hatter's getting narcissistic without his tea
That's how I feel when I can't burn things
but you can't spell "arsonist" without A-R-T
Maybe I'm crazy but honestly it's therapy
Bolt the door to the party and listen to them scream
Oceans of commotion won't extinguish my latest masterpiece
So kick back, fire up a cig
Get that influx of carcinogens
Conducive to my sick mind
Twisted nihilist
Got a pack of matches
Now I'm dreaming in a pipe
Erupt into flames
Sit back and look at all the pretty lights
The way they dance in the wind
Such an alluring sight
It's really just poetry in motion
As I watch through kaleidoscopic eyes
I'll smoke to that.
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 8:54 PM UTC
Negotiating with ******
You can't.
Even if,
He disguises himself as
Bashar-al-Assad,
Taliban,
Al Shabaab,
Hassan Rouhani,
Or that ole mass murderer,
Now not such a bad guy,
We could left him alone,
Cause he didn't have WMD,
Saddam Hussein,
He just mass murdered,
The old fashioned way.
They thirst for the blood of mine.
And when satiated, they will come for you.
There will be no Mass said
Over our mass graves.
Do not pretend to lead,
When all you seek is avoid.
The historians will seek you out
And label you coward, Chamberlin.
Shall we meet at the soccer stadium
Called Ghazi, for some ice cream
And a public execution or two?
Let's make it a woman, for the extra satisfaction?
A perfect place, conducive for relaxed negotiations!
Woe us/me, when our moral compass points only
Downward,
Into the bloodied earth,
Where we will soon enough be buried too.
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 3:15 PM UTC
Often, the shallows are a good place to be,
Once out of there, no going back, not ever,
Once noticed, return is virtually impossible,
And all pedestals are shaky, no roots: none!
Ensure buoyancy, for one must sink or swim,
So much expected, so much demanded,
One may think shallows are unkind, a waste,
They are safe, though, friendly, pleasant,
Conducive company encouraging creation.
Once out of them, away from safe shores,
New challenges arise, new horizons, all new,
Making one desperate not to fail, not to sink,
One must swim, swim for your life; swim hard,
For it hurts to disappoint, it hurts so much.
Without the grassy bank and sandy bottom,
Creation is difficult, beware the sharks: teeth,
Scoot around the crocs, teeth snapping: biting,
Desiring your tender unsuspecting flesh!
See the glory-hogs wallowing, laughing at you,
Howling with derision; they know nothing,
Stupid hacks, every one of them, frolicking,
Performing in the deep, dark, dangerous-depths,
Unaware their blood will soon feed others,
The swirling waters running red: eventually.
Safer here with golden fish and humble toads,
Prometheus swims here as well as anywhere,
Savour the shallows, dance with creativity,
If you must leave, identity switch required,
Even then, watch sharks and crocs: teeth biting,
Often, the shallows are a good place to be.
©Paul Chafer 2014
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 8:19 AM UTC
Your intrusion
Is conducive
To my city burning down
So I defend from inside my castle
Civilian hordes
Wield swords
And I've gotta flail
In my chain mail
My city walls have been manned
So use your battering ram
And intrude on me
Muscle into my muscles
And burrow into my bones
By disarming my mob
While catapults lob
Incendiary boulders
That protect me from
Temporary shoulders
That have exploited my nation before
Mining the resources from it's core
Avoid all the blasts
So we can clash
In the arena of my mind
Where steel strikes time
And my defenses
Defend me from my life
So intrude on me
And shatter my protections
And shatter my conceptions
So intrude on me
And break my perceptions
But be careful
Intrusions have reflections
Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 1:11 AM UTC
The horoscope says
We’re not meant to be that
Good friends is
All we ever could be
Apparently the air
Between us
Is highly conducive to
Failure in relationships
That romance
Between a Virgo and an Aquarius
Is as likely as getting a suntan
In the middle of *******
Winter.
Well, you know what?
Those astrologers
Can go ahead and kiss
My *** that you love so much
Because clearly they’ve got it
All ****** up
Like my hair after 8 PM
On Saturdays.
Why exactly does it matter
That I was born in August
A year after
You were born in January?
Is that why we don’t hold hands?
Is that why nobody knows
Including us
Exactly what the **** we are?
Is the planetary alignment
At the times of our birth
To blame for why
We could never
Have a proper date?
You see the reason
Why I’m all messed up is
Because I downloaded an app
And it told me that
It was being nice
When it said
We should just be friends.
And really
I shouldn’t care.
It’s just an app.
What does it matter?
And yes, it’s true
It doesn’t matter, still
I couldn’t help but wonder
If maybe
It’s not the only one
Who sees things
That way.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 10:54 PM UTC
Current events are conducive
with nonchalant seeming pace
When future springs surprises
with time I will learn to face
Cheery is current subsistence
and freewill so far I propound
Confines once start stifling
I may break newer ground
Perceptive mind is still active
infinite inspirations all about
If my illusions start dissipating
new pastures I would scout
Resources are just adequate
for me to earn daily bread
In days of desolate penury
will take what fate’s spread
Traversed I have distances
to seek serenity for my mind
Treks in future if improbable
then peace within I will find
Environs are lush and verdant
their magic for one to behold
As autumn spreads it’s magic
with different shades of gold
Realism is a confusing passage,
through many an abyss and ridge
Each nuance to be vied aptly
while coming to cross any bridge
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
Early in its life, this grand old tree
decided to grow in opposite directions at once.
Not exactly conducive to longevity
my beautiful, leafy friend.
I know.
You have seen many of us,
also our marriages, our families
trying to do the same, impossible thing.
Inevitably, the weight of years, the pull of gravity
splits us down the middle, leaving us with a fatal wound,
like this one of yours, old friend.
Recent, rogue storms,
torquing you with gale force winds,
have opened fresh, damaging splits.
Even your own generous embrace of the sky
has left you open to disease where you are weakest,
as are we, dear friend, who have stood in your shade
imagining you destined for a venerable old age.
It is not to be, not this time.
Already, limbs are being cut down to lessen the risk
to the neighbor's roof, and to the skulls of passing pedestrians.
Enough of you will be left,
as the chilly nights come on,
for you to blaze out
in generous, leafy glory,
one last time.
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 10:38 PM UTC
Sub-zero temperatures aren't conducive to photosynthesis
chlorophyll stuck in veins
freezing and thick, viscous
right-o
tips **** and ****
try to circulate nutrients
but nature cannot be altered
facts cannot be opinionated
tell that to the judge
small claims and chain gangs
game changing fame slanger
falling to the feet of the tall
once and for all
can't just sit and wait
procreate
at least **********
when all else fails
and it will
at least there are the simple pleasures
of air and light and sound
all around
and heightend senses of reality
and *******
and laughs, smiles
miles and miles
swimming in confusion
just want a touch
isn't too much
for a night on the town
lost, never found
alone in the dark
with another
not too long
just too right.
Jul 2, 2012
Jul 2, 2012 at 1:13 AM UTC
I try to uncover what’s underneath;
I try to uncover what’s hiding beneath these sheets.
They decorate my soul, create this person who I am,
but they’re beginning to tear, tear right at the hem.
I’m not sure why I am this way,
though I constantly search each & every day.
I try to find the answers as to what I do and what I say,
though none come up each & every day.
I trace it to my childhood; the tangled roots start there;
of love & misfortune; the burden too often too heavy to bare.
I struggle with memory, as it tears a gaping hole,
Of smacks & bruises that coated your aching soul.
These visions –though conducive to my progression-
are often the reason for my rage & aggression.
Did you not love us? Were we not fair?
Did we not have perfect teeth? Did we not have perfect hair?
Were we not the model children –the ones perfect for your show?
Why did you have to break us & torture us with each & every blow?
“The drugs,” the drugs; the God ****** drugs are to blame, right?
Then why –without the drugs- do you cause me such fright!?
I want to incriminate the drugs for the abuse;
I wish I could, I wish I could, but there’s no use!
How can drugs create an entirely new monster, such an evil spawn?
The devil was always inside of you, no matter how much coke you were on!
But if you’re the devil, what does that make me?
If you’re the devil, is that what I’m meant to be?
My life is dictated by what has occurred in the past;
I leave it behind, but it never truly lasts.
How do I leave behind what has made me -created me?
How do I let it go & expect to be?
Do I create a new person –is that what’s left to do?
But how am I supposed to be me without you?
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 12:52 PM UTC
“Did you bring the specimen sample?” the lab employee asked,
“UUhhhhhhh, no, I wasn’t aware I had to bring it.”
“Well…you can’t do that in here. Can you go home, do you live around here?”
“I wouldn’t be able to get back before you closed.”
“Ah **** well, okay, take this,” he handed me a sample jar, “There’s a restroom on the second floor—”
“Woah! What? It’s a single-use restroom right?”
“Yeah man, don’t worry, we’ve all gone up there when we needed some privacy.”
“Jesus, okay, thanks, I’ll…be back…soon,” said in the manner of a partial-statement, partial-question,
And so there I was, on the second floor of a lab facility, attempting to get a sample after perhaps I had already produced too many samples in too short of time, especially for a man like me who is no longer a teenager, it was a rather difficult process, the environment was less than conducive, and when it finally happened it gave me an exertion headache that was so excruciatingly painful I thought my brain was going to ******* explode out of my ******* ears, my life’s work, concluded as I fell to the pissy floor of this restroom, having produced an extremely small amount of sample, what I had been viewing on my phone would have surely amused many, disappointed a few, and maybe flattered one, but ultimately nothing would matter ‘cause I would be dead, oh well,
When I went back downstairs to the office and gave the employee the jar he handed me a sterile one and told me, “Alright, just in case we need another sample, do it at home next time,” and I did.
Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 7:27 PM UTC
I am sending a parcel on its wings,
Be careful when you open it.
It has full of beautiful things inside,
108 of waves, you are searching for.
The true colours you love, wrapped up in a blissful layer by layer, our doorway to knowledge path,
Expounding the absolute power,
As committed and receptive naturally.
The parcel I am sending you, to say how much I miss you.
Holding the heart- " the mystical heart",
Where you always remain, beautifully inside it.
I am sending a parcel on its wings,
Be careful when you open it.
The remaining just flower for you, the way the potters wheel is,
Opens up various levels of perception,
Everytimes puts out, when it silence, gets hurts.
I am trying to be flower for you to your potential, external and largely fortunately internal.
I am sending a parcel on its wings, be careful when you open it.
Better to maintain conducive atmosphere
Is called KAVACH, create a cocoon energy inside,
That simply transmit that you wish.
The parcel , it has , things inside, full of beautiness
That you had initiated into meditativeness,
generating receptivity , you transmitted into me,
In a short time,
as a doorway to knowledge.
I am sending a parcel on its wings,
Trying to praise your emotional integrity,
Whatever i send, be careful when you open it.
The beautiful things inside it, The thought
Quiet powerful transforms spiritual process.
Starting the aware of kundalini with the help of ganapati.
I am sending a parcel on its red wings.
Grounded bases of balance emotional issues.
For reduction of anxiety to energize your powerful spirituality.
With another parts of parcel on its orange wings.
Which help you to open up for the feeling of
Maintaining harmoneous relationship together.
Because of human beings being empowered with this.
To promote your beautifully things, self confedence and
To be continued effective manner in which you are travelling miles and miles,
See in this parcel.
I am sending a power with its yellow wings,
Be careful when you open it.
It has full of beautiful heart , the mystical heart..
On its green wings
Having full of love , kindness, experiencing compassion which you opened a balance of sympathetic love.
During our conversations.
I am sending a parcel on its blue wings .
When you open it carefully, you will find positivity,
Singing a song that you most love.
It has also contain a indigo one called 3rd eye
Helps you to visualize inside
And connected the way the path of spiritual heaven.
I am sending a parcel on its violet wings
The crown you will find,
When you open it carefully.
Enjoying with spiritual connections.
Creation of emotion, bonding meditative path.
Melt completely wisdom.
Leaving probably me alone
In the world a path spiritual
Where we will be reunions
Our soul again and again.
Dec 22, 2020
Dec 22, 2020 at 10:53 PM UTC
I think
Zen has been taught
all wrong
for a long time,
because the common understanding
is that Zen gives you
peace of mind,
an empty mind,
a mind which doesn't think,
and other such hogwash,
so I can explain
what Zen meditation
does to me,
and that is
that it brings up
much chi energy
to my head,
because of the way
that the eyes are fixed
and the posture
and the breathing
and the mantra,
and so
the mind becomes
stronger, more powerful,
more active,
not more peaceful
and passive,
and as such
it is conducive
to such phenomena
as internal music,
much thinking,
channeling,
telepathy and psychic powers,
seeing things,
hearing things,
and imagining things,
therefore
if you are getting into Zen
for peace of mind,
you've gone
to the wrong place.
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 3:38 PM UTC
I wish I was a billionaire
so I could travel everywhere
in my own private aeroplane
go see the world and not be vain
in a much more conducive time
and write about it all in rhyme.
Helping all those needy people
regardless of their own steeple
who'd come across my path to be
and give to them a hand from me
for all their immediate needs
as an example of good deeds.
______________
Apr 19, 2021
Apr 19, 2021 at 7:06 AM UTC
You’ve said
that you’re against
all wars
but yet you allow
your mind
to remain in darkness
depressingly
fighting a war within
yourself
I must
remind you
A Rose is a Rose
Love is Love
Just like
War is War
WAR
IS
WAR
MY FRIEND
It’s time to decide
what you’re going to do
with what’s happened
to you
Happiness doesn’t
come to you
It comes from you
It’s time to create
an environment
conducive to joy
WAR
IS
WAR
PERIOD!
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 4:29 AM UTC
When I Am Afraid I Will Master My Fear
Have you found the answer to your question
Are you thinking of the same as me
Happiness is not elusive
As we know it’s conducive
Scripts not needed
Going with the flow
Steady as we go
Hands together
Eyes looking in
Together we will
Conquer
Demons flee to wind
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 5:44 AM UTC
"And he created out of one man every nation of men, to dwell upon the entire surface of the earth, and he decreed the appointed times and set limits of the dwelling of man." (Acts 17: 26) (New World Translation Study Edition)
When I look in the mirror, a doughty warrior, an oracle, an Olympian gazes back at me. The caramel-tinge of my skin tells of the colored pedigree from whence I came. Every ebony-tendril that bursts from my epidermis is as impregnable as the Sacred Lotus.
The history of my Mind's Sky has been tried by the Ancient African Sun of my ancestors. It is my hope, that I have passed the trials decreed by the ordinances of the Moon & Sun. Moreover, the Arbiter of Fates, Jah, dawns upon our fleshly vessel at each twilight, assaying our entities. (Isaiah 60: 19, 20) (New World Translation Study Edition)
So many intrepid souls have compassed me about. The Chalice of my Heart burgeons with esprit d' amour. The meaning of life is ne' er about intellect, is ne' er about achievement, is in part, about creativity; wholly, about Love. (John 13: 34, 35) (New World Translation Study Edition) For this reason, strength cascades upon me every moment as I witness the brilliance, the resilience of my beneficent matriarch, Stacy Amanda Foulke.
In life, I have learned that being a person of color in America is not only a wonderful privilege, but a responsibility. Why? The afflictions brought upon this skin only make it glisten brighter after convalescence. Our people have suffered inordinately so, but this is conducive to cultivating surpassing empathy. Therefore, I believe that history, as begotten through the colored legacy, shall be one of ultimate victory.
If and only if, we unfetter ourselves from the onerous burdens of the past, then Monarchical Wings shall burgeon from our Astral Chrysalis. "For though the tribulation is momentary and light, it works out for us a glory that is of more and more surpassing weight and is everlasting." (1st Corinthians 4: 17) (New World Translation Study Edition) Se' lah.
Feb 12, 2021
Feb 12, 2021 at 6:54 PM UTC