"goeth" poems
i.
A Vintage Alfajor necklace
To veil mine sovereign belle;
Betrothed for heaven's comfort
We hath already been through hell.
ii.
Ourn bygone time
Hath strengthened us for forthcoming rapture;
I'll be right next to her, in her allure
No death, forever, happily ever after.
iii.
I'll tryeth daily, tis none maby's
I'll doeth anything, for mine Filipino baby;
As tis I'll maketh her, forget her past
I'll be her bishop, she shalt be mine eternal hourglass.
iv.
As time goeth fast, I mustn't lose the thought
That tommorrow doth not always cometh, we dieth, get lost;
Though she hath found me, I knoweth what being saved mean's
I wilt liveth every day as mine last, and liveth it for mine queen.
v.
So dearest reyna, soulmate, and best friend
When thou doth readeth this, know ourn love shalt not end;
As we both understandeth, this planet is just a passage to the next
We wilt meeteth in this life, and afterward's, pag-ibig at it's best.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 3:55 PM UTC
the rude gesture when one seeks the inelegant simplicity of
no words;
no words
suffice to say,
magnitude of some offenses requires physicality;
a physicality that injures nothing but the
surrounding atmosphere of
its pride
for it’s pride
that goeth before the fall,
the pursuit of dishonor and dishonoring,
given that,
it shames the giver as much if not more so
dishonor
for words are our truest masters
I'd rather you gave a round shout out of
**** you,
for as the parents say these days
use your words
rather than show me your
nail chewed runty midfielder
ah, words...I do so love them beasties
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 1:00 PM UTC
You want a make out
Without a ring on it
You call it attractive
I call it infactuation
They call it seductive spirit
They just want the pudding
Bunch of irresponsibles
This kind goeth not away
But by fasting and prayer
A generation of sadomasochists
Bunch of nymphonaniacs
Do I look like a loose ball?
Even if I wanted to play
"Shoe get size, 'mbok'"
Open your legs at your peril
When it's time to settle down
Men look beyond beauty
Character and intelligence tops the list
Even love is not enough
When he is ready to "ring it"
Don't say I didn't tell
When you advertise your wares
Frontally and from behind
You attract what you represent
Men don't like exposed wares
If you cover it very well
They will pay fire to posses it
Trust me, I speak from experience
Queens of the night
Their office opens at night
Adorned in skimpy gowns, no brassiere
Sometimes, with their nieces knickers
Exposing all exposables
You attract what you are
You get what you desire
Do you have a banging body
With seductive shape
All you get is a one night stand
No one wants to marry an empty barrel
Before you open your legs
Please, open your sense
Do you understand?
Before I drop my pen
Please repeat after me
Lord, Jesus, I come to you today
As my personal Lord and saviour
Deliver me from seductive spirit
That I might be made whole
Write my name in the book of life
Thank you for saving me. Amen!
Dec 13, 2019
Dec 13, 2019 at 1:07 PM UTC
Be humble in word. And deed after all we all are constantantly in need.
The journey up can
be painfull or dizzying or tangled. Life hands out no rain checks.
Be patient in thought and motion.
Try a 5 count. Breath deeply. Think neutral.
Be humble in word and deed. Try carresing the soul. Yours and all.
Remember well that pride goeth before a fall.
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 11:55 PM UTC
Help Lord, for godly men have took their flight,
And left the earth to be the wicked's den:
Not one that standeth fast to Truth and Right,
But fears, or seeks to please, the eyes of men.
When one with other fall's to take apart,
Their meaning goeth not with their words in proof;
But fair they flatter, with a cloven heart,
By pleasing words, to work their own behoof.
But God cut off the lips, that are all set,
To trap the harmless soul, that peace hath vow'd;
And pierce the tongues, that seek to counterfeit
The confidence of truth, by lying loud:
Yet so they think to reign, and work their will,
By subtle speech, which enters every where:
And say, our tongues are ours, to help us still,
What need we any higher power to fear?
Now for the bitter sighing of the poor,
The lord hath said, I will no more forbear,
The wicked's kingdom to invade and scour,
And set at large the men restrain'd in fear.
And sure, the word of God is pure, and fine.
And in the trial never loseth weight;
Like noble gold, which, since it left the mine,
Hath seven times passed through the fiery straight.
And now thou wilt not first thy word forsake,
Nor yet the righteous man, that leans thereto;
But will't his safe protection undertake,
In spite of all, their force and wiles can do.
And time it is, O Lord, thou didst draw nigh,
The wicked daily do enlarge their bands;
And that, which makes them follow ill a vie,
Rule is betaken to unworthy hands.
3.7k
i.
O'
Timely
Apricity;
ii.
Mayest thou
Warm, and blanketeth
Me; as a neonate, as
Thou shalt gorgonize
Me, from within the space,
Ourn embracing is a cataract,
Of heavied chime-together laced.
iii.
Thine speak is comely, Concord
To mine earshot; the copse is
Surrounding, none manor
Needed, just the coney's,
With the delightful tree's,
veneering ourn cot.
iv.
Exhaling all ourn woes
And sorrow's, as if none
Tommorrow; None haste,
And none distaste, house-
Leeks groweth whilst the
Flaxen colored roses follow.
v.
O' oriental Apricity
I'm cold mine lass,
I'm freezing fast;
This winter day
Hath chilled mine
Soul, I needeth thine
Fire-place, to heateth these bones.
Though far-flung, away on stretched water's.
I'm awaiting for thee, mine queen, O' Apricity,
I'm awaiting O' queen, mine swart of the sea, thou holdeth the lock, tis I hath the key, here thou goeth amour', open it up, flyeth on through-setteth me free.
©Brandon Nagley
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 5:02 PM UTC
America,
Violent are your "peace bringing ways,"
Soiled are your oily lakes and dumps of "cleanliness,"
Tattered your past, your pox blankets you shared
With the Tribes, filling their lives with "blessedness"
Boring are your churches of "joy and eternal bliss,"
Poor are your "satisfied costumers" hopeless days,
Pride goeth before a fall, and yours shall
Be it's own undoing with your stubborn ways.
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC
(Dedicated to my mother, Juna Marie Nagley- happy mother's day momma!!!)
O' Màthair, Màthair, from whence I birthed.
Best friend, mine Angel, mine guide; Disguised
As a lady at birth; it's from thine womb from
Whence I arrived, this is a thanking thee, to
A flawless seraph, mine Màthair, mine Màthair-
To thee; whom do I compareth?
Anglamotharia, thou hath always met mine need's,
When mine knee was scraped, and when I got sick;
Thou wouldst alway's protecteth me. Eyne blue as
The sea's, hair blonde as the street's thou hath
stemmed from, Anglamotharia-Jehovah's chosen
One, mine host of host's, guardian from the ghost's
Who always tried to hurt thy own son.
Anglamotharia, from whence I am from-
Latha màthair math; angelic one.
(Second part is a mothers day dedication to my mother in law Evangeline sardua- Earl Jane sardua my Queens mother....)
Adlaw Malipayon inahan, dearest mother-in-law, the Apple to Jane's vision, hardworking, gentle-calm. I thankest thee for showing Jane the right way's; the way's of God, the way's of love, O' heaven knoweth thy name.
Adlaw Malipayon inahan, woman who knoweth none time, for thine family is thy priority; thou cookest and cleanest, thy labor hath heavied over time, mayest the Lord bless thee and keep thee, and the Lord make His face shine upon thee. And be gracious to thee. The Lord lift up His countenance upon thee,
And give thee peace. Mayest thine abode be a blessing from Mount malindang-west unto East. Mayest Yeshua guideth thy feet to where dangerous travels cometh and goeth. Mayest the word of God always from thy mouth appear and floweth. Mayest this mother's day, be a remembrance to thee, Evangeline; thy love hath not been forgotten, this is mine gift and thanking to thee.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©mothers day dedication to two special mother's ( Evangeline Sardua, janes mother, and dedication to my mother juna Marie Nagley, ) happy mother's day to both of you and may God shine his face upon you!!! With love Brandon!!
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC
The day blister as the sun followed 'er.
No shade nor a parasol as she goeth an' hope for evanescent heat
A basket in 'er hand, one way to marketplace
'Alt! A mad horse kicked thro'
Dropped on earth, dirt in 'er sleeves
"Gawd o' all horses keep yer eyes open to see!"
A fine young man bowed down for repent about his detriment ride.
O! Poor little thing!
A thorough water in the basket she offered for 'er long little journey.
** The vigor horse galloped an' circle round she.
'twas a good thing an' he proffers honourable ride.
There goes the curtsy 'off in the marketplace' says she.
Alt! The creature pause. Where is this? "thy big heart shalt hail for I, present thankfulness. Devoting thy fortune." the prince rendered his throne bounteously.
O! Applause how majestic upclose a palace could be.
'tis she wish e'er since. To seek for a lost playmate, hoping for camaraderie. Remembering in that small village where the little prince sneaked. Oh dear! 'Twas he!
Aye! The prince hoped the same an' knew all of a sudden. He made 'er his wife!
(An' they live happily e'er after. Bow)
-A
8/11/14
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC
Mine Filipino rose
For thee I shalt;
Be tossed inside the
The Brazen Bull;
Until mine inside's art crisp.
Be impaled
On wood;
Mine head planted on a stick.
Be crucified
Mine hand's nailed;
Thorn's upon mine top.
A Lead Sprinkler
To sprinkle lava;
In mine throat lost.
An Iron Maiden
To taketh the metal;
Inside mine liver.
Coffin Torture
To let the crow's;
Pecketh at the splinter's.
A thumbscrew
To snap me as twigs;
As mercy I yelleth.
Rope torture
To leaveth me exposed;
To hell and the element's.
The Guillotine
As mine head falleth;
Into oldened basket.
The Rack
As mine shoulder's wilt bust;
Twisting mine bracket's.
Tongue Tearer
To knot mine tongue;
And rip it at the seam's.
The Rat Torture
As mine interior wouldst be ripped;
Rat's burrowing inside me, scream's.
The chair of torture
As edge's impale mine spine;
Hellion seating.
Cement Shoes
In the bottom of the sea;
Wherein noone canst heareth me.
Crocodile Shears
To gut me as a fish;
Reptilian grip's.
The Breaking Wheel
Wherein mine limb's art tied up to spokes, hammered by devil's;
I crack, Snapple, pop, as mine bones elongate, mine blood chokes.
Sitting on the Spanish Donkey
Mine carrion torn in twain;
As heaven canst feeleth mine pain, for thee I'd screameth again.
Saw Torture
As tis the razor's edge wouldst goeth through mine abdomen;
Evil bastard's shalt cut me, as I'm praying amen, just to DIETH.
Hanged, Drawn, and Quartered
It sais it all in the verse;
For thee I'd haveth all this done mine queen, for thee to liveth.......
©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane dedication
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 10:04 PM UTC
Intangibly, it cometh and goeth.
Substanceless it slips in transition from one immeasurable instant to the next. Equitable to infinite space, in terms of distance, infinite time is a concept quite alien to the finite human mind. There is no proof of existence, it is a human conception with no sensory component, an illusion and utterly immeasurable in real terms with only a human contrivance to calibrate it....(and poorly at that).
Time is the silken zephyr on which we lay our dreams and aspirations. It is the currency of deep religion and is regarded as the ultimate sword hand of God. Incorruptible and absolute it brooks no favour, seeks no fame. Irreversible in it's cold implacable, unquenchability it merely, unfeelingly.... proceeds.
M.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 10:02 PM UTC
Even in mine sickness
im never to leaveth;
When this breath exit's mine lung's, and i do not overcometh, the grave that swalloweth me.
When these eye's reacheth to the sky
and thus mine heart seemeth to fail;
I wilt be waiting for thee by the Luzon bay, in celestial white detail.
In these darkly hour's
I canst sense heaven and hell;
though I am never to leaveth thee mine Jane, for we were long ago ordained, for the eternity of ourn holy grail.
I shalt forever be an adherent, next to thy seraphim shoulder's;
Even in mine dying, I wilt ameliorate thy crying, as ourn amour' will forever be warm, even in mine death whilst mine skin goeth colder.
O' I am never to leaveth thou:
Mine soulmate jane,
in life and death we shalt be, forever to loveth.
O' forever I wilt loveth thee.
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 7:48 PM UTC
i.
Mo chuisle, if this specter shalt cease;
Keepeth mine writing's in a chest for safekeep's.
ii.
Mo chuisle, if mine eidolon doth release;
Remember mine amour', please do not weep.
iii.
Mo chuisle, I feeleth soon this heavy flesh shalt succumb;
No tears, no fear's, I am thy chosen one.
iv.
Mo chuisle, I don't knoweth how many more breath's art left;
v.
Though if this is mine last, always remember lass,
I wilt forever loveth thee mine pet, though we hath not met, soon we shalt. Keepeth thine window open so mine spirit canst cometh and goeth freely, to enter in, and cometh out. Thou art not alone, if even thou shalt feeleth it, mine soul is mobile, I'll travel universal-global; I'll doeth all to protect thee mine Asian Noble. A hierarchy of cherub's and seraph's awaiteth me now, I think they needeth me soon, to be a poet in God's room, just looketh high, I'll be aloft the ground. Mas mahal kita Reyna, never forget these word's, they might be mine last, mine sweet Jane, mine soulmate, mine all, mine all of me;
Mine best friend..
Mine other half
Mine life;
Mine wife..........
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 5:11 PM UTC
You could put it down
as youthful folly, or spit out
the hackneyed line about
pride and what goeth after.
It's true, I over-reached,
wanting to limitless kiss
the sun's crisp lips.
I did hold her glowing cheeks
firmly in my palms
for one exquisite breath.
Can you, rocking there
in your comfy prison,
say the same?
There comes a time to sit
astride clouds and burn off
the waxy buildup of childish things.
The weightlessness before
the plunge feels
like it will never end,
but, I can tell you, it does.
Jul 6, 2010
Jul 6, 2010 at 8:55 PM UTC
Her smile is a rush of a syringe; pushing deep within mine arteries, loaded. Her laugh is addictive, sedatation entereth me. I flyeth higher than any dope fix canst get. She hit's fast, quick; as her eye's art chocolate diamond's that hang on star-night string's, shiny, divined Pearl's wrapped in elegant Filipino linen of a queen. O' mine Asian dream, cometh into mine sleep and feeleth me, cometh in: the door's open, none hellion aloud to pass nor enter, just a place for us to swim. Whilst making affectionate confectionery amour' on thy foreign shore's, mantra's shalt be said as both of ourn name's art whispered: the setting sun to be the picture that goeth down as we dont stop the rolling around until dusk.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane nagley ( Filipino rose) dedication
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 5:40 AM UTC
for the ones who write me messages of & in loving trust
short and sweet, and I knew it complete before I even thought it in my wide awaken rain-brain somewhere tween
1 and 4am and maybe it doesn't have a cute twist to close it up
this curse of worry for family and people I have never met
pushes down the bile of my ego, my selfish vanity, what goeth before the fall, and whispers natty go back to sleep,
you're ok and when you groggy rise in two hours to open
the shuttered store, you be reassured, you are
your own best
customer and so are they and u laugh quietly,
so as not to wake the world
7/20/17 3:46am
Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 3:50 AM UTC
Dear God, The Boston Red Sox Win The World Series?
My congratulations to themselves from Bahstom,
I am sure you will wear your crown with classy
NY Yankee Pride and not riot in the streets
As has been known to happen in Beantown.
But I though I would let you know,
Having spoken to god on Yom Kippur,
He confessed it was a typing mistake.
He meant for the Chicago White Sox
To be resurrected and to win,
Not noticing he was auto-incorrected,
Reassuring me that he was
Installing IOS7, so it won't happen again.
Pride goeth before the fall of 2014.
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 3:17 AM UTC
This world was not
Meant; for an angel's
Display, the angel only
Cometh, to bringeth light
In dark day's.
The angel's only
Place, is from the
Star's wherein they
Came. The angel's
Art of God, not of
The world's hate.
The angel's art the
Bringer's, the messenger's
Of life; they cometh O' they
Goeth, they leaveth by the night.
The angel's art fading
Dying in mystical wind's;
Their partially human to,
For they've indulged in
Worldly sin's.
The world was not
Meant; for an angel's
Display. For an angel
Only cometh, to giveth
Light to empty flames.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 12:11 PM UTC
Elsa,
This is a tribute to thee
If it wasn't for thyself helping me
I don't knoweth where I'd be!!!!
See everyone,
If it wasn't for elsa angelica sharing all mine works
Since I first came here,
I'd be a nobody poet!!!!
But out of her angel unearthly ways
She's madeth me a star for the hopeless!!!!
She's given us all a light
As tis lately she's been down and feels no worth,
Everyone should write elsa
And showeth her she's a poetic angel of gods work!!!
She wasn't sculpted here by mere creatures
The stars of ourn creator madeth her to be,
She's not any of us!!!
Canst thou see?
don't thou seeith?
She's been here for all of us,
Especially me....
She's a king's fantasy
And every real man's dream!!!
She may haveth her haters
Yet don't we all!!!
Yet we need to remind her
She's a seraphim we look to for her love...
Though she's struggling much
Why else art we here?
To help one another
As we shalt help her in these evil year's....
Giveth her notice,
Because angels cometh and goeth
She's a friend here to so many
As her affections to us she showeth...
She's an astronaut cherub from her moon
Yet she shalt return soon.
So whilst she's here HP,
Showeth her love
Respect,
And let her know she's a true queen!!!!!
And she doesn't feel so beautiful inside
So I make a command to tell her different,
Because she's fulfilled all of ourn happiness
She's the serpahim of poet's wishes.
( this is a thank you elsa) when I first got here you showed all me work to the world)
If it wasn't for you alot of us would be nothing!!!!!
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 6:30 PM UTC
i.
Forby thou art not,
I quiver from the
Cold; mine heart
Is running rapid,
There's anguish
In mine soul.
ii.
I wail out of mine
Bones, mine grave
Is looking close, I
Implore for thee,
Mine Jane, mine
Sweet. I implore
One day, thy eye's
I'll meet.
iii.
On the emptied
Street's of purgatory,
Mine sandal's art worn;
I beseech for just one kiss,
But there's nothing, mine heart doth burn.
iv.
Though through these trial's
And Tribulation's, I shalt
Hath patience; whilst I
Get bitten, by the demon's
I have been smitten. Ourn
Affamour shalt break down
Door's, wherein hell shalt
Shatter, we shalt reach the
Shores, O' I plore for thou.
v.
Mine eyeball's art sinking in, is this death somehow?
Mine body and limbs now doth trow; it's weathering
Away, I'm hanging on tight; I prayest thou canst saveth
Me, by the end of the night. And queen if I goeth, please
Knoweth mine amulet belongeth to thee, I wilt forever
Looketh down, upon thine crown, mine empress; mine
Queen.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 9:36 PM UTC
whithersoever thou goeth, Mine pneuma shalt follow.
In the eve where I shalt be, I'll be in the crypt of saint's, a seraphic place, where there's a pinpoint of light to engulf mine glowing face. I shalt leaveth thee an otherworldly trace, where third world grace is placed upon thine head. I shalt be living; not dead. Do not angst nor fret: I'm here mine pet. Followeth the scent of white roses I shalt leaveth thee: the petal's shalt gleam in stream's of everlasting life. Mine soulmate, mine wife, if tomorrow doth not arriveth for me; remember this life's just a passing to ourn eternal loving reality. Dear Jane, mine sweet.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedication ( Filipino rose)
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 11:05 AM UTC
All yearling spring birds far from distant home,
Xanthic in Gothic gospels soot and yolk,
Where's one's soft spoken voice to calm me on the phone?
Formidable pulses,
The danger of convulsion's spread on like buttered oil!!!
Enormity soil's the defendant delirium...
Such agnostic aquariums stinkingly similar upstate!
Broken lives to sunset drive,
Specimen speckles,
Forcible tassels hover one's decree!!
Litigious locust's buzz creepingly,
Indecently exposing all's funk!!!
Concauctions of fake adoption's,
Concievers break locks off trunks!!!
Omit me out of this obdurate oasis,
Wherein one feel's spacious,
Free to cometh and goeth!!!
Freedom doth thou know?
Operatic Mrs and Mr's,
Minuets for thy ridiculed wishes!!
Ponderer of newness,
Cleaner's as thy tub spills over,
Thy heels click together just to get thy kicks!!!
Hit the streets thou feathered bird of no beak,
Thou tally marker of no means!!!
Foreman to thy own people's idea's,
Nourish me with a new novice,
Nurture me with heartbrake hotel,
Buildeth me a standing ovation of a one love palace!!!
Brave heart fairytale,
Doth thou stand to move about?
Listener of radio tunes,
Art thou close??
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 8:50 AM UTC
i.
I must be honest
Mine sweetest earl Jane;
I hath not been on much
From the sickness, and pain's.
ii.
If I'm to goeth away
Today mine sweet Jane;
Knoweth we shalt meeteth again
At the front of heaven's gate's.
©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane nagley dedication/soulmate always
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 6:35 PM UTC
Nobody knows when our last goodbye going to be.
When our Love has gone and left us: we crawl back into the shell of our former self:
we remember, we relived, the first marble
that was taken from us, our favorite pencil that was snatched by the bullies
We let our emotion take over:
our marijuana-addled state of mind seized
Sleepless night, reckless hours, Dehydration and Insomnia –
Heartbreak is real: deception is a poker game:
We remember the struggles, we remember our kindness,
The sacrifices we made, especially burning the midnight oil:
Then we see that old familiar face,
Stepping right out from our bodies in slow motion...
And take charge, we tried our best to stop the madness,
But it played out like a cloudy dream,
In a panicky state we yelled for it to stop;
to please come back, please, don’t do that
Our mind creates our thoughts, but when the beast
Is out he goes on a rampage, right to the source of the game
To the love who has gone and left us:
The damage has been done: how do one move
Away from the game: death is inevitable
When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through dry places, seeking rest, and findeth none. Then he saith, I will return into my house from whence I came out; and when he is come, he findeth it empty, swept, and garnished. Then goeth he, and taketh with himself seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and they enter in and dwell there: and the last state of that man is worse than the first. Even so shall it be also unto this wicked generation. Matthew 12:43-45
R.I.P
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 12:05 PM UTC
i.
Atop of Mount Sinai
Pious place noone goeth;
Sentinel's keepeth watch
Just in case the Devil showeth.
ii.
I came to an emanation
As the lambent dreweth me near;
She was wearing islander garb
She cometh from afar, not from here.
iii
She explained she was visiting
With the other angelic's inside;
I dropped and I fainted
From tis her beauty I didst cry.
iv.
As tis the squamous underworld master's
Came up from their woeful sleeping;
Mine luminescence bearer held them back
I couldst heareth them yelp, mine body began shaking.
v.
And whilst I was quivering
The rock's began to shaketh;
I kneweth mine queen was unearthly
For tis she saved me, and she fleweth me off, as hell quaketh.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 5:56 PM UTC