"excitingly" poems
I dreamed of him again last night,
of how he always made me smile.
Over eight years a family friend,
his daily antics always on display,
morning and afternoon walks and talks,
his joyful baths in his small pond while
he playfully bobbed and dove beneath
the spray of my garden hose.
This was no human being,
a handsome Mallard Duck instead.
The self proclaimed King
of our barnyard clan,
always strolling and patrolling the
grounds, waiting for us, quacking
his greetings, excitingly flapping
his flightless wings at our approach.
His loneliness petticoat showing, he
followed everywhere, seemed to live
merely to be in our company, eat corn
from our hands, living precious minutes
of needed shared congeniality.
Two morning ago he was not there,
we searched and called his name
but he had completely disappeared.
A coyote perhaps, or bird of prey
our King taken and gone away.
Our lives are diminished by his loss,
Though only a bird, he was our
dear companion, a convivial friend.
I dreamed of him again last night,
of how he always made me smile.
Today I mourn his loss.
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 12:17 PM UTC
By: Wileh Kama
I wish you were
Addictive to me
Than you are
To Facebook
The dawn breakers birds sing
And you wake up
Excitingly full of Indulgence
From overnight's expectations
You log onto Facebook
Foremost thing you do
Then you log off from Facebook
All before me
You forget me
During the day
Even when hunger strikes
Or when you are in the toilet
On the bus at work in the church
You log onto Facebook
Gratified from the overwhelmed messages
Updates statuses notifications
Furthermore disgusted winching
Over internet outage low data storage
You log off from Facebook or don't
Always Facebook is in your little mind
That makes your world go round
But you forget me
The last thing you do
Before you close your eyes
Regardless of tiredness
Even before you want to die
Craving like an addict
For the last hale of ****
Like a dog faithful to its master
You log onto Facebook
Check Facebook its Facebook
At times you forget to log off
And sleep all over Facebook
All after and without me
I wish you were
Addictive to me
Than you are
To Facebook
Date: 20140624
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
I reminisce quite often
of your touch
and
the unabashed ****** experimentation's
we've shared.
I know my worth,
so don't you go forgetting,
I had you with your mouth agape,
your toe's curling
as
you cried out my name...
call my conceit one of a kind,
because
I know the way you stare,
the way your eyes lustfully & licentiously devourer me,
the way you crave me
and
how you cling to the memories of us,
in bed.
Your priapic lust for me
is
equally accepted & measure,
almost to a point where
I could have bodily-combusted
since
you always seem unable to stop,
but
you must know,
I have a very arcane little list and lucky for you
I've let you in...
hahaha lucky indeed & better for me.
My concupiscence language
and
metaphors simplify & convey my lustful intent.
In simpler terms just know I want to repeat are coupling,
I'd like you to to bend me over and stretch me to my fullest.
open me widely
and
dance with in my silken Venus’ cradle,
entangle me into
a dreamlike haze,
in which my fantasy and reality are indistinguishable.
I know you've harboured about me & the many ways,
all the very excitingly different ways you could defile
and desecrate my ripe tight little body,
I see more clarity and certainty of what might happen,
if ever
I'd allow you to spend the night with me again,
I still remember our passionate nights together,
oh so very well,
I can see it,
I taste us and worst yet,
I can feel your animalistic
and
sometimes brutal ****** assault on me,
I still feel you deep within
my seductive tight little love box.
Your
a
cannibalistic-cunnalinguist master,
causing havoc within me,
as you attack hungrily
between my thighs,
sending me spinning,
sending me on a intoxicating high.
Our last encounter,
left me unable to breathe,
barely able to walk and yet I have no regrets,
well maybe just one,
and that is;
all good things must come to an end!
(until I heal.)
Always Me Ayeshah ™ ®
K.A.C.L.N ©
All right reserved ®
Copyright 1977 - Present ©
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
My fingers smell of you
Inner thigh bruises, black and blue
It’ll be innocent, what I’ll do
Work you into a sweat, morning dew
Feeling like goddesses, us two
Sticking to one another, organic glue
Excitingly painful but only for a few
My erotica magnifica, you haven’t a clue
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 7:59 PM UTC
Brutally beastly ****
Your heart is like a burning ruby, you are a hot juicy chocolate skin tone brutally **** beastly, mega tough exciting making ***** divinely sweet and incredibly **** saturated with a sweet delicate, sensual shade, sexually exciting, you are synonymous with hot *** and sultry sexuality. My heart, mind and ***** burn with the fire of love and lust, looking at you, I think to myself: it’s just nowhere hotter. You are such a *** bomb that is capable of blowing up an entire universe, it says wow and wow, a mega explosion of the imagination of lust. With every second, love for you only intensifies, also your value, and my ***** feelings. You are my true attraction, which I had not previously suspected of, looking at your body and face is just a buzz for my eyes. Your beauty is the highest art of aesthetics. Your beauty as a powerful ****** for my mind, soul and heart, as if a very cool unforgettable *** just the breath of adrenaline from love captures the spirit. You are the reason for my constant my ***** feelings and amazing state of love. Very tough very excitingly and ***** and beautiful. Aesthetic eroticism of love for you, the most tender and sweetest taste. I relish every second, spent with you every second your value increases, excitement and love increases, I relish every second. You just brutally excite me.
Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich
Sep 18, 2019
Sep 18, 2019 at 11:01 AM UTC
Flash! Bang! Crack! Puff!
In an instant
In one moment
History is gone like the wind
Like the cries of prisoners who yell "Save us!"
But me...me, I look, smile and wonder
So I walk with my lighters
With my gasoline and my torches
Ready and willing to wipe out a "Sanctuary"
This "place s of residence," this "castle"
Or so they say....
So the fires dance around wildly, excitingly,
Like some liberated dancer on the dance floor
Screaming, shouting, "I'm free!"
....But I'm trapped.....
Trapped in my frustrations, my fears, and my pain
So I unleash it all
In one second of glory, of wonder...of freedom...
So while your home, your school, your hospital, gives its final farewell to this Earth
For once I'm flying
So count yourself lucky
Because I could've done a while lot worse...
Apr 2, 2012
Apr 2, 2012 at 1:17 PM UTC
I've never gotten flowers, not much to say
In love once, still can't beg to stay
I've never gotten flowers, but oh.. to dream of lilies
How the return of happiness will ever feel?
"Hold onto your baby breaths,"
They never given me any
All I ever wanted was a tulip
The same way my father use to gift my mother
Smiling while I hide behind him excitingly
Dreaming of my once upon a dream as snowdrops grow
Sunflowers, how beautiful they could be
Joyfully restoring oxygen into my lungs
You never knew cause roses are the trend
Honestly, you never asked
Left, right you're gone
Not a rose in graved, they're all out of sight
Its alright I'll get gladiolus
Swimming in the lilies valley one day
Memory, Not a Flower girl
By:Zoulaikha
Sep 26, 2023
Sep 26, 2023 at 1:37 PM UTC
cobalt blue meets crimson red
one a pair, the other dead
unblinking eyes eye blank ones
currently living meets living once.
different emotions, strong urges
touch the body with careful smudges
blue meets red excitingly
one quiet, one laughing happily.
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 9:16 PM UTC
I am one of the few honest people that I have ever known,
and, I believe,
the best thing a girl can be in this world is a beautiful little fool.
With a simplicity of heart,
dispensing starlight to casual moths.
With the kind of voice that the ear follows up and down,
with its fluctuating, feverish warmth.
That voice was a deathless song.
Her face is lovely with bright things in it,
bright eyes and a bright passionate mouth –
her curious and lovely mouth.
Young and artificial.
Redolent of orchids and pleasant cheerfulness.
Gleaming like silver, safe and proud.
A “nice” girl.
A beautiful little fool,
excitingly desirable
with a ripe mystery about her.
And, yet,
turbulent emotions possess her.
She thinks everything is terrible;
she’s pretty cynical, you see.
But,
God, she’s sophisticated!
That beautiful little fool.
Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 12:55 AM UTC
Life is so friggin' weird, I'll tell ya.
The older you get, the weirder it gets,
and it just keeps on getting weirderer.
Grossly weird.
Wrongly and disturbingly weird.
Upsettingly weird.
But then, now and again,
pleasantly weird.
Delightfully, excitingly weird.
Weirdly endearingly weird.
Then weirder still.
Off-puttingly weirder.
Over-sweetly weirdly weirder.
Understatedly, low-key weirder to the highest degree contradictory weird.
Maybe weird isn't so weird after all.
When it's the only constant in life,
then weirdness becomes the only reliably normal thing, oddly enough.
Sep 26, 2020
Sep 26, 2020 at 4:26 AM UTC
I don't find limiting myself with a title,
There are no boxes left for me to fit in,
Or burst out of....
I find it's excitingly horrifying to be,
This lost.
There's a similar difference between identity and persona,
I am what I am, am I?
What am I?
Do you think the men I have only half loved,
But stroked their meek egos of,
And the woman I have cowered at,
As they screamed my name,
Know what I am,
Is not who I am?
There is a solace to be found in being wanted;
Are you the one they fall to on a late night,
When they are alone and drunk?
What about when their beds are cold?
When they cannot see you because, they are blinded,
By their quest to find themselves more, and you,
And you,
My dear,
Oh my sweet you,
Who is no one in this world,
Are a literally stepping stone in under their feet,
As you wish to be a moon in their stars.
What they don't tell you,
About surviving trauma when your brain is developing,
Is that your world turns to opposites,
Chaos is home
Drugs are home
Hate is home
Fear, is home;
Here secreted beneath my pallid skin,
I try to find them all a home,
Knowing I'll never find mine.
If self care and therapy was literal exercise,
I could bench press all of you, and more,
And save you all;
My motivation to not be broken is stronger than my will to die,
And they'll never know that,
As they try to break me,
Over and over, and over,
And over again.
Everyone's broken.
No sorry, everyone has cracked edges,
Worn
Rusty
Mishandled a few times
Repainted
Cracked
Not broken, slightly damaged.
We, the ones filled with gilded light, and songbirds,
We know the ******* difference between depression,
And eternal internal sadness,
From not understanding love, to
Loving EVERYONE
From seeking solace in the extreme,
To running away from arms that seek to confine.
Where for art ******* thou?
We are not here for your pleasure.
But we are.
How could we be, but anything else?
I tired.
Sorry...
I tried.
Men.
Women.
Whisky.
*******
Driving too fast.
Telling them.
Saving them.
Being everything.
Hating.
Fighting.
Drowning.
Breathing.
Exalting.
Crying.
Pain.
Pleasure.
Writing
This isn't a shopping list.
It's. Not a bucket list.
It's what we do to survive,
When you're born without love.
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 7:57 AM UTC
My beautiful,
smart,
funny,
excitingly adventurous,
**** **** **** girl friend.
One who writes
and reads me poetry.
Sings songs,
laughs and watches movies with me.
You are so incredible to me in so many ways.
And you do it
from the other side of the world.
Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 12:20 PM UTC
What is life?
What is death?
What is waste?
What is purpose?
What is good?
What is evil?
What is?
All different, yet all one.
Nihilistic ambiguity,
What is?
If you have thought the thoughts,
You might be like me- trapped.
What is?
Is our purpose to be successful?
To leave something behind?
To be remembered?
To be a conqueror and a Man of Free Will?
Or are we just a doll of rag in Fate's playhouse?
What is life without death?
What is good without evil?
What is pleasure without suffering?
Are they not equals?
Such is life in her horrific beauty,
Deceptively, yet excitingly... ambiguous.
What is Churchill without ******
What is Richard without Saladin?
What is humanitarianism without dehumanization?
Are they not both equally powerful?
However, are they also not both one?
What is the difference between a terrorist and a freedom fighter?
One is someone who wrecks havoc for something that you do not believe in,
While the other is someone who wrecks havoc for something that you do believe in.
Wait...
What is justice and what is tyranny?
What is moral and what is immoral?
Well...
The true question is, to whom is it a moral law and to whom is it an immoral law?
That is when you realize, that everything is one.
Truths become lies,
Lies become truths,
Good become evil,
Evil become good,
Hate become love,
Love become hate,
Justice become unjust,
Injustice become just.
Meaningful becomes meaningless,
As a couple's carnation is destined to wither and turn to dust.
Yet, in it's beauty, both sarcastic and cruel,
The meaningless becomes meaningful.
Being trapped sets you free.
And that is when you realize,
Life is not about being told what is right or wrong.
Life is not about leading the way,
Nor is it about following a person.
It is not about following a code,
A tradition, or a set path.
What is, becomes up to you.
What you believe in,
What is just,
What is moral,
Is something only you can tell yourself.
You may learn from others.
However, nobody reads the same sentence the same way.
And even on the same roads nobody has the same journey.
There is no purpose to anything,
There is no good,
There is no free will,
There is no fate,
There is no truth,
Nor is there a lie.
Everything is meaningless...
All meaningless... until, you breathe meaning into them.
In a way, you are just a passing moment in this Universe.
A tock on a ticking clock.
A small ant in the cosmic world.
A weakling whose death day is already marked on the calender.
Yet, until that moment, and until that day comes.
Without you, the Universe has no meaning.
Without you, there are no truths, no morals, no goals, and no purpose.
For you breathe purpose into this world,
As you write your infinite story into this leather bound diary of life.
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 11:31 PM UTC
Running down the riverbank
The moss is wet and slippery
The willow trees whisper in the breeze
As I dance with the wind
Smells of sweet honeydew and rotten leaves
Paint a smile on my face
The water lilies and narcissus bloom
White pedals in my wake
Ivy leaves like snakes do slither
And trap me in their grip
Tangle my flighty feet in its long fingers
And I meet the icy arms of the creek
The splash is loud and the slap is hard
But how I love to swim
It is cold and calm and I hum along
How it echoes in the deep
My feet are numb and my lip trembles
My battered clothes catch on reaching branches
tug me farther in
Like childrens hands excitingly pulling me close
Before too long all my troubles are gone
the restlessness finally settles
Blue blood like ink
pops out of my paper skin
I close my eyes and succor my speeding heart
And there I am, frozen and ******
From my seaweed hair to my dead white feet
The nymph of earth, water, and air
I relinquish this life of pain
Of empty pernicious words
Flirtations will no promises
Hamlet, Father, Laertes I am no longer in debt to thee
Ophelia my sweet, come from the waters deep
Thy flesh has grown so cold
Soft skin wrinkles into old
A bitter bark stains my tongue
Oh god what have I done?
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 3:06 AM UTC
the raw confusion of the nucleotide fusion,
the great concoction of recombinant DNA,
when we cross over our own boundaries
and subsume, integrate, reformulate our
very selves, with inhalation complete of
another human being; the danger’s inherent,
absorbing a foreign body totally is the creation of a new being entire, vulnerable
despite the new totality of the resources of
two hearts acquired for mergence
and the rush of two different bloodstreams
now circulating, stronger by far, and equally
vulnerable to diseases never prior considered,
these tissues patches, interwoven skins, two
fabrics, silk and wool, a smooth itchy, that
makes us stronger with yet unknowns of weaknesses, and then we encounter what
cannot easily be digested, comprehended,
for even new cells split apart, and the terrible
terror of dividing division that is the side effect of integration, new subdivisions never
ever forever foreseen cause volcanic tremors
and trusting your other half is awful,
until the fear subsides
*this is the why
I write of
only love poetry,
the study of this process
so poorly and powerfully
misunderstood
is the atom bomb
of the human psyche
in rivers dark we travel,
oars with cotton muffled,
for there are dangers on each bank,
and in the waters beneath
the salt and the fresh
excitingly & violently blending,
different weights
somethings fall to the bottom,
others rise to the top
*and when the process is nearly resolved
(for never ending,
by default defined,
for end is a conflict
constant
interrupted by truces fraught,
fragrant and vulnerable)
*this then
is living,
this physic of the
bio-il-logic process
called love,
and the endlessness
that it requires
the inconstancy
of the
constancy
of the
deepening well,
and the
redemption of
redefinition
of what is
well*
<>
2:10pm
nyc
10/21/24
Oct 21, 2024
Oct 21, 2024 at 2:11 PM UTC
When love is strawberry red
What an exciting flavor would that be?
Dip it in tantalizing chocolate
The flavor of love, excitingly sweet
Mysteriously sweet and sour and sweet
Does love really have a flavor?
If so guess what would it be?
Would it be the sensual chocolate?
Or the delicate Vanilla
When you mix the ingredients together
It’s like two personalities dancing
It takes time to mix the right ingredients
Sometimes it might not mix well
Or it may not turn out the way you want it to be
But once you got the right chemistry
It will become a delicate delight
While you watch it baking
It’s like a relationship
You let things grow and mature
Developed into something deliciously wonderful
Then as you taste your food
Heart may be pounding, body calm and relax
You close your eyes and taste every flavor
You fall in love, in love with life, food, and your lover.
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 4:51 AM UTC
The surface of the water was placid
Reflections of Fall spotted this canvas in commencement
So excitingly colorful and vibrating with life yet so still,cool,and welcoming
Inviting a storm
This tiny pond was willing to fight reguardless of the score
Well aware of the baited hooks and the illusions sold to implore
Tiny fins wave in unison
Fragile yet admirable all the same
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 11:02 AM UTC
His arms
His lips
His hands
Venemous to the core
They stung as they touched me
But so excitingly painful.
I knew he'd left his mark
I knew the poison would spread
And the walls I built would slowly deteriorate
Break me down as he found his next victim
But he was a drug
An addiction
Something I couldn't escape.
The way my stomach jolted
When those fingers tugged at my hips
The way my body froze
When he kissed my lips
The way my skin heated up
When his arms wrapped around as he kisses my cheek
Maybe a sudden inervention was for the best
But I know tomorrow when he does it again
I'll be as weak as I've ever been
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 9:36 PM UTC
My strawberry kiss
stains your lips so scarlet
But brace your touch
to the thorns of the blackberry bush.
Excitingly simple it seems
when the fuchsia's pollen is filling
The air with cherubs, holding
a scent that pierces the senses.
Nature grants its deuteronomy
sprouting freedom to masses of
Timid children who misunderstand
the fangs of a snake's bite.
May 20, 2020
May 20, 2020 at 8:33 AM UTC
i've spoken so many, many things these past days, sprouted feathers drifted gracefully between us
it was so easy
three years brought us here we smile in daydreams and realizations this is our life
calm, down to earth like clay
i'm lost for words in full places
writing is a friend to sorrow, these past days are excitingly kind
apart, i'll sit in bed tonight, pillows to my back, eyes tracing lines on the wall
for so long i've lost sleep to worry
this sleeplessness is the same yet so different, this sleeplessness is a train to somewhere new
you were the first boy i ever etched into poetry. and that fear i wrote of long ago was just that, a fear, it doesn't exist anymore. now we do
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
It wasn’t the ***
That wasn’t important
Well it was
It was him
I gave him my time
He gave me five minutes
Christ, he came quicker than the 9.05 express
Actually, the 9.05 has been cancelled due to a ****** malfunction
He said he got excited
He’s forty two
It’s a breast thing he said
What, the two of them
Well, actually it’s you being naked
Should I keep my clothes on
Could we do it in the dark he said
Yes, just ****** do it
I was excitingly waiting
Nothing
Maybe he’s a Ninja lover
I heard him chewing
What the hell are you doing
I’m coming
For christsakes, not again
No, I’m ready for you
Well get on with it
I’ll just close the door
He screamed
Something told me satisfaction was 999 away
The paramedics put it in ice
The police took down my particulars
God, how i wished they would take down my particulars
He blamed me, could you believe it
Other patients were calling him, Bob it.
I told him straight, the ****** door got more action than me
Is that all you can think about, ****** ***
I started laughing, he didn’t get it
Just like me
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 5:23 AM UTC
Sitting on the beach on the coldest of days,
Winter chills which skims across my face and hands,
Watching the waves rising up and down,
Beating against the shore,
Roaring against the wind,
The smell of open sea rises across the land,
Birds are fleeting above my head,
Glimpse of the sun is peeking through the clouds,
My partner is drawing characters in the sand,
I run my hands over the seashells and tiny rocks,
I explore a combination of sharp edges and wet stone,
A misty gloom appears along the coast,
The sound of seagull’s squarking and dogs barking echo’s in the distance,
My partner lights a cigarette and sits across me smiling,
We hear the pitter-patter of a greyhound dog walking towards us,
The greyhound greets us with a curious gesture,
We welcome the dog with open arms and stroke their furry face to say hello
The grey-hound pondering between us,
Excitingly moving around,
We hear the sound of people talking in the background,
The grey-hound wonders off to accompany their owner,
A shift of temperature occurs in the atmosphere,
I feel the cold cracking my lips,
My partner begins to roll a spliff,
I contemplate about the warmth,
I propose we hit the Carrot Café along our way,
My partner agrees as he smokes his doobie
We get up and set upon our next journey.
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 10:04 AM UTC
Bloomy as it seems the road to perdition
Hastening, excitingly
we match on in a Merry
Thought we toll in a roll to heaven
Little do we know that we sojourn down to
Hell.
At sights we see tormenting pleasures
A glance or twice
couldn't quench our urges
Its succulent touch mount in deep to our soul
Little do we know
That we re riding down to hell
The merry that flows through our vein in oneness
The lap dance that stir up intriguing moments
Driving our thoughts towards the gate of Hails
Little do we know that we head to an Halt
As time passes by,distance wails
Awaken me
And alas, it dawn on me
that those that we ride
Are but no more
The pleasure got cut with aching teeth gnashing in distress
The intrigue moments fades at I stare
At the gate of shadow
Locked with doom, agony and despair.
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 4:21 PM UTC
to awaken
so sudden and abruptly,
to the only thing that brings me comfort,
ironically brings me to my nightmares
was it me crashing into everything,
while the fall was so perfectly acknowledged,
so quaint and serene,
yet loud and bold,
excitingly
I obsess over it,
trying to jump off any mountain
just to feel the fall from grace again,
blindly,
even with broken hands I'm reaching
so eloquently matched with this heart,
was it the supple form of her skin,
or the laughs we manufactured
in the sea of sheets we slept in,
****
I would drown if that was the only way I could set sail again,
to move heaven and earth
to go through hell and suffering
just to feel you again,
in exhaustion I breath in the cold,
hours spent with a numbing drink,
hoping I could see straight intoxicated,
because everything was blurry in a perfect state,
and in the unknown
I lose who I am,
just to find the truth,
and in the truth I find love
just as lost as me.
-S.J
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC
The romance you try to find, in all the little absences that no one seems to be aware of
The lone flower among the sidewalk cracks, the simple rays of light through the leaves
The purity you have to try and look for that, is something to be treasured in a world like this
Never try to give that up for another view, this world is cruel from the skies to the streets
You hold something organic that not many people have, nor too many people appreciate
But you musn’t let that cynical claw break your wings, for you have a pure soul that can help
Even if you don’t think that you can contribute, you are innocently unaware the kindess the world needs from you
You write such beautiful stanzas from the steps you take, the small smiles you give to the sidewalk warriors across the town
From the gentle touch you give the hurt pigeon on the steps, to the small laugh you direct to the mothers child
You have such a grace about you, you hold something purely universal in the fingertip hymns you conduct on those cups of water
You must never lose that joy you have so naturally, for it is infectious to those that see you as something to inspire towards
Magnificent is your speech about the breeze in the afternoon, you talk with an open choir of unapologetic happiness
Somehow you are a living version of a sonnet, a painting that walked away from the ink, and dawned flesh and bone
There’s confusion to try and figure your presence, for you are a candle of vanilla evenings, a soothing bible psalm in the eve of dark
Don’t give up your flower crown for one of thorns, you hold a golden river in the lovely iris of your eyes, an oasis in those freckeled cheeks
Sunshine in this morning can not look as radiant as your exuberant state,
illuminating you are to the day as it washes by on your waltzing beaches
How the atlas ribs seem to map out your inner content, something of the biblical purity, but never do you judge
Only to you help and love in the maelstorm that can arise, a rare type of creature you are, rare and excitingly amazing
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 7:57 PM UTC