"ensued" poems
Over a period of time difference of opinion leads to debate following which mutual understanding might take place.
Somewhere down the line,
something might click,
then signs of mutual understanding will be there in offing.
Mutual understanding will bring the much needed change,
a change that's desired,
since it also fulfills the need of hour.
If mutual understanding takes place, then nothing like that since it moves in the direction of drawing a line of conclusion, which is the only reason because of which the debate commenced.
If mutual understanding is still a viable option,
yet far away,
then it’s time to keep negotiation apart and away from been a part of the debate.
Finally difference of opinion can lead to something positive and healthy, if the debate that is ensued following a difference of opinion is in the right direction,
in right spirit,
focus remaining on point of concern,
substance with regards to what’s going on in mind is not disturbed in anyway,
most importantly the debate is held on proper grounds.
Difference of opinion is also a sign for something constructive, if the mind is determined to make sure that the odds which are going to come along the way will not only be handled and tackled, but also taken out and taken away from the way of getting things done.
Finally it’s difference of opinion that makes team work interesting, if it is taken in the right spirit at the given moment in time.
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 6:49 AM UTC
My Heart and Mind had a discussion one day,
About a man that they both knew quite well.
The heated discussion continued for hours,
Both with arguments meant to compel.
A debate ensued between the two,
With each taking a different perspective.
The Heart believed the man to be true,
And the Mind thought he was deceptive.
Heart started the discussion with an obvious point,
"He is sweet and gentle like no man before."
Mind responded smugly, "That's great in the moment
but how does he act after she's walked out the door?"
Heart countered, already knowing the point being made.
"Sure, he may not be able to write or call;
He is busy with constant demands of his time.
What he feels in his heart matters most of all."
"I disagree," and Mind continued to say,
"Actions mean far more than words alone.
It is when words and actions are considered together
that a man's true feelings are shown."
"He has to compartmentalize to get through the day."
Heart continued to defend his intentions,
When they are together his feelings are real,
but her insecurities span many dimensions."
"It's funny you would mention compartmentalizing.
Apparently your memory isn't as sharp as mine,
He was once quoted as saying this was not his strength,
proof that his statements don't always align."
"You are cynical, suspicious and guarded."
Heart was clearly tired of this dispute,
"Those traits are clouding your judgement.
He is genuine and telling the truth."
"I think you are overlooking the obvious but
I'll relax and stop doubting his intentions
if he makes an effort to send a simple sign."
Heart and Mind both wanting to prove their point
and have the bragging rights of superiority.
Mind sure that the man would disappoint her;
Heart confident in his genuine sincerity.
Both waited patiently for some type of gesture,
Something to demonstrate that he really does care.
Heart began to worry and whispered to herself,
"Stay calm and trust that it's not just another affair."
Patience prevailed and an email arrived,
just as Heart had hoped and prayed.
Mind, although disappointed by being proved wrong,
was relieved and no longer afraid.
Trust and calm filled her spirit when thinking of him,
but it was both that won in the end.
Maybe they were more than temporary lovers
and could also be permanent friends.
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 10:45 AM UTC
I wish me invisible
I want to disappear
I am but a damsel
Parading in knight's gear
I want to be the unknown
I need to be again a stranger
I wish my secrets not shown
Back to a time when it was clearer
I wish to be a zephyr
I want to be felt not seen
I need to be less of the liar
At least lesser than I have been
I crave the comfort of solitude
I long for the absence of physical contact
I miss the tears that once had ensued
Somehow then I was more intact
I want to be an undetermined star
I need to be unnamed in an uncharted galaxy
I wish to retreat behind my avatar
So you won't see the real me
I wish me invisible
I want to be protected by ambiguity
I need to disappear from this debacle
Into the welcoming arms of anonymity
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 8:01 AM UTC
Dimension beginning of vile ****** exposed,
And the Emperor has no clothes,
While helplessly strut a mighty walk without a shame.
Course of history repeating itself,
Like the flow of water meeting in the river of streams,
But recycle through the clouds and back to the ground it flows.
Are we so blinded by the glimmer of the mirage of oasis in the desert,
We toast with sands of dune to quench our thirst of our plight,
And all is but a fickling light ducktaped by words of unintelligible muddled murmur?
This is truly the flawed design of our time,
When we no longer promote arts and crafts of philosophies,
And religious cults of zealots condemned the science and Academia by berating it's achievement.
Likes of ancient times of Agora and the height of it's human enlightenment,
There are forces of deconstruction of society of choas ensued by hateful fear mongers,
And systematic inward of national fevor of berserkers leveling progress.
Maybe another dark age is inevitable,
But little seed of hope I feel tangible,
And sometimes event maybe a phoenix.
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 1:11 AM UTC
Jade sauna
just over body temperature
to increase metabolism
smooth blood flow
and sweat out toxins
my hair is up
there are no lines on my pale smooth face
I'm happy and peaceful
I look so serene
and so skinny
"'scuse me you speak Russian?"
it's one of the cute foreigners
I've had my eye on
flirtations ensued
and it was nice
to be looked at
with fascination
with cute wonder
getting complimented
through broken english
as he ran his hands through his hair
smiling abashedly
trying to make sense of my words
as I did the same for his--
we were up all night talking
"no halloween in Russia,
but if had, you be Queen"
he knew nothing of me
just this peaceful calm side
that smiled and giggled
and carried a conversation
like a feather on the wind
he saw a girl he could smile at
and say
"you are very beautiful"
"you have lovely smile"
I'll never see him again in my life
but what a wonderful memory to have of someone
nothing but kind words
and laughter
and peace
serenity
a few of the things
I treasure most,
yes,
what a lovely memory
of Annex the smiling Russian boy
who drank tea with me
at the Jeju Spa
until the sun rose
and the lights came back on.
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 12:25 PM UTC
*It was then that the universe decided to play
Out a sequence of events that would lead to this day
She conspired with the sun
with the earth and the moon
With the rest of the cosmos
to create enough room
For elegant curiosity to bloom
Opportunity presented herself to his door
She gestured,
and smiled,
And said "wait no more"
He knew in an instant it was time to act,
Because chances are few, such a plain simple fact.
And so our protagonist seized that one chance,
For his soul to experience a new kind of dance.
It was all for a girl,
curiosity,
what if?
She moved with such grace, she sparked up a spliff
In the garden of dreams,
bathed in glorious sunlight
Her hair, face and smile
it all felt so right
And watching her glow and feeling her lust,
He knew it was time,
he knew that he must.
He leaned in closer for a taste of her lips,
She turned in towards him,
she shuffled her hips
And then when at last they shared that first kiss,
His soul was ignited and smothered in bliss.
And that was the moment that everything changed,
A shift in perspective, a life re-arranged.
For what then ensued through that day and that night,
Was nothing short or pure cosmic delight.
Moments come and moments go
Memories fade over time's forward flow
But the feelings remain, they are timeless and true
And no-one and nothing can take them from you.
So if you're attentive to universe's song,
and seize opportunity,
you can never go wrong.
For you might one day find where you truly belong*
Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 12:01 PM UTC
The sensual curved line on the bed
perfect.
The eyes: burning, red, leaking for reason unknown.
Private room for me and you.
Darkness quenching the need to hide the
lustrous actions ensued.
Accept your fate, useless strumpet, unrivaled *****
Your garden grows quickly out of control.
Weeds in your rose bush, fence weighed down by
inherent overgrowth
of emotion:
fervor, passion.
A kiss.
The last sweetness of
your lips
that will ever be given
or gotten.
Death.
A sweet relief for the world
from you,
Desdemona.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 1:05 PM UTC
Since time unknown I wanted a mutt
No Lego, No Hershey , would make me stop
A golden lab, only, could break the rut
Which i could feed and sit atop.
Mother worried for the allergies and the fleas,
the constant bark, dirt and spit.
I swore to keep him up in trees
and silent like a lonely pit.
We got a pup and named it Edison,
he did not explicitly, discover electric light.
All he had was poo and medicine
No wonder his tummy was never right.
Every time a **** he let away
With each paw he dug to dig.
At midnight as others lay
He ate on like a pig.
One night a robber, dull and round,
hauled himself across the yard;
And then onto some furry ground,
where the cur lay, his fat splayed, somehow, somewhat, on guard.
A brawl ensued, boy, there was blood!
the thief bit him and he bit back.
Now, i have two graves in the mud,
of Edison and of Jack.
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 11:45 PM UTC
The battle ensued
Between combatants heart and mind
As loneliness whispered softly
Of tenderness
In cooing song and rhyme
The brain issued a stern warning
Of heartache and the ache of sorrow
The turmoil of the soul
And the price
The wrath of storms coming
Love ignored words of caution
With little thought of consequence
Forging fearlessly and foolishly ahead
Igniting a small spark
Accompanied smoke trails in the night
Long ago thought dead
Glowing orange blue flickering embers
Soon a smoldering burning fire
Did awaken from memories long sleep
The emotion
Desire
This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby Dec. 26, 2014
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 10:31 PM UTC
Things grew dry
Desert ensued
And I wanted an oasis,
Pleasure of sitting
By a pool
In the arid air.
It was comfortable enough
To keep on,
Legs in rhythm
But
The exhausting heat
And friction
Between
Became too much and
You stopped to rest.
And soon blood lept
From my body
And muscles felt sore.
I collapsed in the sand.
And you hugged me anyway.
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 5:34 PM UTC
a battle ensued
across the skies
meteors and comets
impacted
upon each other
fierce were the explosions
a trembling quake
rolled through the planetary spheres
neutrons and protons
collided
monstrous and massive
destruction
befell the galaxies
which were ******
into the battle's vortex
combustible fires flared
burning for millions of years
the war didn't abate
the kinetic energy
compelled
more
devastation
catastrophe
lasted
until
eternity
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 7:18 AM UTC
Caged in a prison, high on a hill, actions ensued but didn’t quite fit the bill
Words of not-always transformed promises to forever,
Side by side, naught to hide,
despite the cloudy weather
A friend, a rock, a ship almost wrecked was looking to dock
Alone in the harbour, under the moonlight,
Ashamed,
The half-wreck shone bright for what it was famed.
Tough stains were covered, remains left undiscovered to be smothered by another
Heart still full of what was before, keen, loveful pursuers already knocking at the door
Cabin wide open: “Ahoy mateys! Ahoy!”
She soon set sail with the innocent boy.
Tides were rolling on peacefully by, some of them were low tides but mainly they were high,
When in need there was a shoulder upon which to cry
And the girl thought the boy would help her get by.
Way out at sea on a tropical isle the boy showed the girl daemons not seen in a while
Opened her up and dove right in, illustrated the flaws of reacting to whims
Open
Broken
Alone at sea,
the boy turned his back as she fell to her knees
Floundering, drowning, thrashing in the waves
The girl succumbed to what her daemon craves
Underwater tears remain unobserved
A not-so-sly Fox spoke of acts undeserved
An unsure girl, curled up, abashed
Covered up the act and watched her daemon be tamed
A ship in the darkness, a ship under the stars
Saved the girl and craved the girl and hoped she knew right
And Oh! How she flourished in this dependable new light
“Love and peace, me mateys!”: a new reason to fight
The boy on his island, soon to return,
Will see that the shipwreck upon which they met, though
not
yet
quite
perfect
Trawls the coast to find an isle of its own
And though different to first-envisaged, Bristol shall be its home.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 11:27 AM UTC
I don't speak spaceman she said with a grin.
When into the craft she went.
Was parked on the grass at the rear of her tent.
There met an alien ugly as sin.
Invited her in to join him for gin.
Or maybe a game of rummy.
Neither one could understand.
Non-verbal communication ensued.
They had a hug and laid on the rug.
When sipping their gin.
The two of them,
The alien invader, ugly as sin.
And maiden fair who chucked her hand in.
By ladylivvi1
© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 4:35 PM UTC
Often times a question regarding death, "what happens, where do you go?"
I'd say it's neutral, no ringing ears, nothing at all.
Though I've grown up neck deep in the tired and frightening atmosphere of death, nights spent as a child contemplating my own existence, I had learned to accept it at a fairly young age
This question no longer bothers me
Before I walked, before I talked genuinely, I was a million questions, a million ideas all kept under lock
And the way I walked and talked was not my own
And now, some days they'll call me a "man", but what I am is a hybrid of all of these thoughts
bright and faded colors, painted fingers and toes, distorted and vulnerable
And that sudden burst of consciousness at birth was the same I'd come to know in that moment, at the bottom with the fishes, counting pictures and having visions with my last bit of oxygen. Mermaids, gold glitter, and snakes in the water.
Never had I known such a gentle touch, among some collapsed lakeside cottage.
And that is why I am no longer afraid of death, because to cease to exist is not any kind of experience.
And I will always remember, the sudden burst of consciousness just before the renaissance that ensued from your touch.
And I will not wait
And I will sing in a violently feminine fashion
before the day my lung collapses
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 7:57 AM UTC
Her timid, inexperienced hands
Young, unsure and insecure
Didn't understand
The power in her touch soothed his soul.
She had no idea she was the chosen one
As an evolved woman in her 40s
She now understands that
Her hands felt like heaters when they touched his soul.
Penetrating his skin
Skin smooth like silk
Passion hot like fire
The majestic curve of her hips
The fullness of her *******
The softness of her lips
Had a hypnotic effect
Shaking this very powerful man
To his very core.
To see your soul's mirror reflection
In another being
Was completely unnerving
The vicious battle of wills and ego
That later ensued
Was simply a defense mechanism
For the both of them
This level of intimacy
Felt like a personal invasion
What felt like an attempt
Of mind and body control
Or strategic manipulation
Was truly the essence
Of old familiar souls
Reconnecting with each other
This unbridled passion
Was electrifying
Every nerve was a live wire
Intensity so strong it was alarming
******** full body electrocutions
Powerfully addictive
Never underestimate the significance
Of the soul tie
For as ancient energies exchange
Souls intertwine
This is an unbreakable bond
Stronger than betrayal, conflict or estrangement
Its unforgettable
Holding this queen to your chest
Without uttering a single word
She was "home"
Only the two of you
share this special space
With the ability to speak to
each others thoughts
And feel the others' soul cries
You are deeply connected
You are not alone
So in the next lifetime
Be brave enough
To trust each other.
Respect this bond as something far more than simple lust
May we seize the opportunity
And learn, build and grow together
May next journey not be so lonely
Marred with confusion, insecurities
Ego and self doubt
May we find comfort
In our shared heartache
Of the loss of our earthly mothers
We will forever be connected spiritually
Throughout the passage of time
And the rest of eternity
Until we meet again.
© 2017
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 4:01 PM UTC
Spanish Guitars
A few years ago, in 2011, I went to a concert of young classical guitarists. Just before or after, I don't recall, I saw an exhibition of Picasso's guitars at the Museum of Modern Art in NYC (http://www.moma.org/visit/calendar/exhibitions/1101).
This poem ensued. This is one of the lost poems I mentioned, recently rediscovered on an archaeological dig.
Spanish Guitars
two weeks pass.
I have seen
two guitars
one of wood,
one of sheet metal.
both were alive,
both were inanimate
both birthed for display,
useful for granting pleasure and
heating up le jus d'creation
products of a tradesman's craft,
animated to pierce my brain and
pleasure me with the realization
that when you see
what I see
When you,
you hear,
What I see
we all perforce speak but one language,
an alphabet of music, art and love
A young,
oh so most beautiful
Croat guitarist girl,
Ana, coaxes an urgency
from her love, the blonde wood,
she takes Piazzola's notes,
as if they were Picasso's thoughts
and set them within so
days later, the resonance plucks
at my temples
Picasso, like a little boy,
collects collaged bits and pieces of
life's stuff most ordinary,
postage stamps, playing cards,
wallpaper, pieces of cardboard,
cutouts from Le Journal,
and with fingers delicate
sticks and glues discrete notes,
individually nothing
but pieces of this and that,
bits and bobs
superimposed on faux woodwork,
presenting an instrument tooled to
conjures up a milonga^,
the sounds of angels dying,
a fandango of trembling tones
a sonnet of sounds,
celebrating human touch
upon animal, strings taut,
feasts both, a banquet,
a triomphe of sounds
that tutors my senses
to hear sheet metal guitars
imprisoned in museum glass
gush sounds of parallel lines
and delicate contrasts,
A duet of animate, inanimate
Virtuosity
All is clarified.
One language.
Many dialects.
Both, Spanish guitars.
^ a milonga has many meanings, but here, refers to a Argentine tango dance party
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
I wish you had died on that day
then maybe I'd only face grief
and not the betrayal of that double-edged sword you jabbed into my back.
you said that you also wanted to die on that day
then maybe you couldn't have to face the stress of killing me,
and the depressing aftermath of which you ensued on yourself.
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 10:58 AM UTC
Hips hunkered, rise to dapple-blue-toned dusty seat
Flush arch cheeky blush, excitement
Droll eye-glazing blue pupil toned in sleepy drug haze
Wind whipping wild air rushing through tempered glass
Wubing whoosh of wheeled blacktop pavement
Colored in eerie sunshade yellow
Lined, darting-flash gold white boundary crossing
Tight knuckles, two hand hold
Blinking brown doe-eyed drowsy heavy lidded
Lolling head knocked back, head bash rested caressing faux blue
Ploom of dust
Dry-mouth open to catching fly’s
Or what’s left of dank-infused air
Quiet stillness
Blond hair crawling in busy wind,
Equally as gone
Thumping, jolting-momentum
White line boundary lost, wheels ended grass
Ditching down, dirt slid slide
Floating weightless suspended-nightmare phase
Snapping,
Awake! Awake!
Screaming slotted terrified,
Panic! Painful-heart-wrecking rob breath
Nose dive, mounded metal drive inching closer
Hairs-breath away
Afraid, screaming ****** ****** inside sealed lips
Brown eyes; lid white
Hands upon steering slack, loose light
Asleep, peaceful in calamity
Unnatural shake and tumble
Nail dug bleeding ache
Skidding gravel, tree lined doom
A god not believed in a prayer ensued
Shaking, the calm unglued
“Baby, wake I beg you!”
Brown quick electric wide
Screaming, Screaming
“Oh my God! Why!”
Swerve snake skin peelout
Black lane orange in night
An almost death.
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 4:08 PM UTC
hand in hand and two bright lights
moving through the calm night
leaves lit by the moon
hoping to find water soon
an eerie calm
loosely clasped palms
a sudden hesitation
and running imaginations
whispering with you
over a noise or two
a light disappeared
slight unacknowledged fear
****** rising
emotions heightening
a disturbance in the leaves
a tighter hold, a startled scream
you called my name
two large ears hopped away
laughter ensued
steps continued
the destination seen piece by piece
place to rest and regain peace
a rushing water found
feet slowly moving with arms around
to an unheard beat
water and rock beneath our feet
under the flecks of stars through trees
perfect night with you next to me
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
Wave
after wave
Of chilly fresh air
Washes over me,
Slathering me
Smothering me
In your intoxicating natural perfume,
Wafting in from the door you just waltzed through.
Confident,
Assured,
You silently entice me;
Quietly luring me into the spider's web
To devour me mercilessly ,
A wiling sacrifice to the hedonist gods.
Wrapped in your firm embrace,
I melt,
Overcome with the sensations of ecstasy and elation,
As your warm fingers wind through my hair,
Pulling -
tugging-
Bending me to the passions of the moment,
Where I exhale my simple reality,
And sink deeper into the fantasy that you lend me;
A dark and sumptuous world
Full
Of bare skin glistening in moonlight-
Writhing,
And shining
In our our titanic efforts to go to new places,
To attain new highs.
Melding-
We drink in the sultry air
As if it were the wine of the heavens,
Each breath,
a prayer to a distant god
Each sigh,
an escaping gasp of praise to the distant stars,
Bestowing their blessing upon our arching forms.
A place of exquisite torture
Where we waver in wanton abandon,
Unaware of
And without care for
the fleeting worlds around us.
We exist,
In bliss,
In utter ecstatic pleasure,
Making monuments meant to be remembered
And worshipped;
And as our sweet comedown lays us prone,
Gasping
Struggling to make sense of the sensual chaos
That just ensued
With blank minds that threaten to shut down all together
My fingers hold yours,
Locked in
And intertwined with a strong link-
Like a life raft
To carry me over
these waves of bliss.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
Darkness leaped in, smothered my psyche.
Led me down a hall, into the cinema I went, not willing.
A theatrical presentation, an outcry ensued.
Perception forever altered.
A mind completely new.
My ideals, my dreams, dissipating with the ending scene.
Go forth I did, dashing into the illuminating beam.
A challenge of realization, no immediate hesitation.
Advancement granted, the understanding,
of another dimension.
Speechless, words cannot explain.
Abandoned, with nothing left.
An experience to entertain,
while under the dancing rain,
Vanity's Game.
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 2:37 PM UTC
I recently
got into
a little kundalini yoga
and joined
the Zen group
on Facebook,
and it was like
being plugged into
an electric socket.
I didn't sing
the body electric,
I freaked out.
Panic, anxiety,
and mania ensued.
This ****
can be dangerous.
I saw my doctor
and he gave me
more medicine.
Now, I'm fine.
Whew.
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 7:02 PM UTC
Fortunately
you are not my muse
I've worn out muses
by the dozens
cast them aside
like chaff
and cherished the sorrow
that ensued
Sadness was my calling card
my tragic handshake
a testament to a life
gone wrong
Age improved me
I survived the madness
came back to life
gasping for air
And so to your door
to spin the wheel
of language
to glory in its intricacy
Two poets alive
in the same century
two restless souls
under one uneasy roof
We will survive our families yet
raise a toast
when the day comes
to the dear
and thankfully departed
We'll leave poetry
like confetti in our wake
and touch the holy stone
once or twice yet
in our lives
I pray it will be so.
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 5:56 PM UTC
'So It Begins...'
once upon a time
there was a girl
who always ran around in circles
figuratively, of course
not literally, because if she was literally always running in circles, she'd pretty soon be dead
but that's neither here nor there. back to the girl
she had no idea that she did this
but everyone around and about
was painfully aware of her issues
she was convinced that she was always coming up with new and exciting ideas
when really she just spent all her time recycling her own idiocy
and she became increasingly irate as all the things that she kept around
even though she would never admit that she intentionally kept them around
started to seem wrong
or used
or just completely foreign
until a magic prince
with a magic want
who totally dug the fact that this chick was entirely self obsessed and weird
and pretty much certifiable
snuck in the middle of the night
and robbed the ***** blind
however
because the guy took all her worthless
pointless
and in the end
meaningless baggage away with him
she replaced her former obsessions with stalking him
and he became her magic want
which he severely regretted soon enough
because with her circular habits
her stalking efforts were not unlike being relentlessly pursued
by a small
angry
but not entirely unaffectionate
chihuahua
he fully intended for her to stalk him from the beginning
but unfortunately
as he had been raised in a pseudo-feministic
yet highly romanticized society
he was under the false impression that once this chick started pursuing him
she would give in to her basest wants
and deep seated but repressed desires
that every girl has but doesn't admit
to ending up with a magic prince
he was wrong
there
was
no
fairytale
and once she caught up with him
the relationship that ensued
became a vicious cycle of marriage, divorce, and remarriage
because he had been ****** in
to her circularity.
the end
Feb 13, 2010
Feb 13, 2010 at 6:28 PM UTC
i fell into freedom
my last sickness bled
wounded knees
are my omen
for fearing the regret
blindness ensued
by the art of decadence
lapping my loneliness
to heal what must be forgiven
suffocate in my web
of self care
mistaken for truth
support but no input
secure yet unprotected
cut out and crystalized
****** drifters travel free
Feb 21, 2010
Feb 21, 2010 at 9:16 AM UTC