"medias" poems
Rodando a goterones solos,
a gotas como dientes,
a espesos goterones de mermelada y sangre,
rodando a goterones
cae el agua,
como una espada en gotas,
como un desgarrador río de vidrio,
cae mordiendo,
golpeando el eje de la simetría, pegando en las costuras del
alma,
rompiendo cosas abandonadas, empapando lo oscuro.
Solamente es un soplo, más húmedo que el llanto,
un líquido, un sudor, un aceite sin nombre,
un movimiento agudo,
haciéndose, espesándose,
cae el agua,
a goterones lentos,
hacia su mar, hacia su seco océano,
hacia su ola sin agua.
Veo el verano extenso, y un estertor saliendo de un granero,
bodegas, cigarras,
poblaciones, estímulos,
habitaciones, niñas
durmiendo con las manos en el corazón,
soñando con bandidos, con incendios,
veo barcos,
veo árboles de médula
erizados como gatos rabiosos,
veo sangre, puñales y medias de mujer,
y pelos de hombre,
veo camas, veo corredores donde grita una virgen,
veo frazadas y órganos y hoteles.
Veo los sueños sigilosos,
admito los postreros días,
y también los orígenes, y también los recuerdos,
como un párpado atrozmente levantado a la fuerza
estoy mirando.
Y entonces hay este sonido:
un ruido rojo de huesos,
un pegarse de carne,
y piernas amarillas como espigas juntándose.
Yo escucho entre el disparo de los besos,
escucho, sacudido entre respiraciones y sollozos.
Estoy mirando, oyendo,
con la mitad del alma en el mar y la mitad del alma en la tierra,
y con las dos mitades del alma miro el mundo.
Y aunque cierre los ojos y me cubra el corazón enteramente,
veo caer un agua sorda,
a goterones sordos.
Es como un huracán de gelatina,
como una catarata de espermas y medusas.
Veo correr un arco iris turbio.
Veo pasar sus aguas a través de los huesos.
4.7k
My school work has prevented
Me from being able to do
Any yoga lately
And I feel like crap
A long day of school over
Then volleyball. Piano lessons
Or voice lessons
Or a recital Or an audition or a festival
(Which I should be having fun with
But I don't because all I can think about
Is the work
I have afterwards.)
I finish late at night
Try to cram in some social medias
I go to bed wicked late.
Then no time to even be clean
Until today I swear I hadn't taken
A shower in at least 3 days
And in the morning
In so tired I can't even
Get ready on time and I'm late for school
Or miss the bus
Or have to Sprint to the bus
There's no time to do my yoga
Or anything else for that matter
Because of school
And it goes like this again
Everyday during the week...
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
We get put into groups by the colour of our skin,
Judged if percieved as 'too fat' or 'too thin',
Singled out for looking different to them all,
Perhaps you are seen as slightly too tall,
Name calling and looks spotting is all the rage,
Ridiculous really in this day and age,
Both genders 'beauty' reviewed time and time,
This generation is certainly out of line,
They define peoples beauty by the medias conception,
Letting it alter their personal perception,
The pain they cause to the people they prey among,
Your faith in humanity would nearly be gone,
Who should show these people they are doing wrong,
What they have been causing all along,
Societies segregation and marginalisation,
Creates for us a serious realisation,
History is repeating again and again,
This same thing was happening way back when.
To be yourself today, is something they tell us is not okay,
We need to stop these people , tell them, soon it will be our day.
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 12:25 PM UTC
if you kiss a statue in the dark,does
it leave a mark?like the moonlight's
cold stain on pale columns of necks and
thinner bones of knuckles,or like the
heavy-handed cracks on thighs and
mine own,leaking gold to match._it's
easy to admit a mistake in the dark_ is
what you say,but marble lips leave
little space for contrition.there's irony
in that,in rennaisance-made lovers who
screamed for dominions and settled in
ash instead.history is adjusted,and the
cycle continues.but they left their jaws
open,and the light is pouring out.
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 3:45 PM UTC
the images
come in flashes,
now:
red lines on my dark skin;
a loose noose;
a cliff to fall from
and a fear of falling.
the tip of a sharp blade
against my throat.
(for some reason
i never think of guns.)
they come unbidden
in the midst of everything:
while i am eating;
in conversation with family;
in the shower;
when i wake up in the mornings
wondering why i have still awoken,
and in these moments,
time slows,
stretches out like a drawn-out punishment
while i watch myself stare into nothing.
the indescribable messy affair
of limbo,
of nothing being bad
but nothing being good;
of things not being terrible,
but feeling that they are about to be;
of wanting to leap off the cliff
before you are pushed off;
a pretence
of control.
outside, the storm keeps raging,
and a tree knocks on my bedroom window.
i sit up in time to see the lightning
illuminate a leaf
blown off of its tree.
in the morning, the leaf will have dried
or be floating in flood.
it will not see the storm pass;
it will only turn yellow
and crumple under someone’s foot.
a satisfying crunch.
i wonder only if the leaf had the chance to leap
before the wind pushed it off.
lately i have been wondering
that if everything leaves eventually,
what is the point of arriving at all.
in my bed,
with only the thunder to speak to,
i lay back again.
i plead with the images to let me sleep,
and close my eyes.
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 9:22 AM UTC
Estoy escribiendo un poema que no es igual a como lo pensé cuando yacía en el suelo, aplastada por la decepción.
Edificio en renta. Todo o en partes.
Esto soy yo. El eso inamovible, certero, negado, obstinada a ser un edificio que pertenece al pasado y que se ha desmembrado por la frase que lo ofrece al mercado, cruel patrón.
Pude ser piedra colgada, piedra salvaje, piedra que vive su eterna vida sintiendo el aire del cambio, pero soy edificio de oficinas y huelo a abandono y a derrota.
¿Dónde, en la ciudad, te encuentras?
Mi única esperanza ha quedado en estado larvario, un negativo separado de la tira, un pedazo rebelde y estúpido que se negó a tomar color.
En las manos tengo mi castigo.
Vestigio de lo que fue.
Amigos que envejecieron, ventanas ominosas, pedazos de espejo que refleja a alguien que conoces pero que dejo de existir.
El aire, el sol, las voces de la gente que pasa por la acera, todo sabe a fracaso, a proyecto a medias, a polvo que se acumula, a lejanía, a algo que se ha estirado más allá de lo que puede, a alguien que grita porque ya no puede hacer nada más.
La ciudad (nueva, antigua) sigue vacía. La plaza cívica, el pequeño restaurant, la banca fría de piedra que no lo parecía, la fuente.
Mi única esperanza se tiñó de colores falsos. Mi único puente se venció antes de que pudiera cruzarlo.
¿Dónde, en el mundo, te encuentras?
Esta es mi expiación.
Lágrimas que no corren, una pluma que sólo existe para escribir esto, uñas de color papel, labios que hablan otro idioma.
*Where, in my life, are you?
What a sad, pathetic life, I say to myself (that only being who can hear me) what a sad situation, what a sad beginning, middle and, end.
Where are you? Cause I miss you.
I do miss you. I do miss you a lot.*
Esta es mi rendición.
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 4:07 PM UTC
Trembling over my haunted thoughts,
Deciding whether to listen to songs or not,
My playlist plays all songs I have no mood to listen,
My books are all placed on the table,
Yet my imagination run so wild that I couldn’t focus on anything,
I don’t know how many times I switch off the air conditioner,
Or do I want to curl up under my blankets?
Should I grab some chips and watch a movie?
Ah, but I already brushed my teeth,
Should I reply to the unanswered text messages?
Should I sleep, but I already slept five hours earlier
Or should I check my social medias?
But I would just be sad again viewing other people’s profile and pictures
I don’t know what to do,
I feel like I’m trapped into a loop of indecisive nights,
Should I click game over so I won’t wake up?
I bite my lips and scratch my wrist,
Because they were so dry yet so sore at the same time,
I feel silence and silence is so loud I’m deafened by it,
The color of my lips is pale peach,
And my eyes are empty,
This is my indecisive night,
The night which I do nothing but write my thoughts.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
Cue our story halfway through,
without the benefit or detriment of history—
affinity, no past attached;
you don't know me, I don't know you,
but yet, we do.
Feb 19, 2011
Feb 19, 2011 at 5:12 PM UTC
**I am
calling for my spirit guide
to take me back to the lost haven of Atlantis.**
Various medias
Reach out to bug me,
so I'm praying while they lie in wait like a mantis.
Dark lords
Rain down plagues that sicken the mind,
but I have the light which illuminates my advantage.
And so
Into Imagi-nation
I can successfully vanish,
MANifesting a tangible reality,
Proving I'm not one they can manage.
Nature
was never against Nurture,
but the battle plays on just as they planned it.
You're more powerful than those behind screens,
and your dreams will live when you demand it.
Think of your thought as a seed and plant it.
See your life within your third eye,
It's now time to revamp it.
Your vessel has been flying low seeking love,
It's already within you
-land it-
We are one
Once you understand it,
Unto the you-niverse
you can hand it
Spark a fire of compassion and fan it
This,
is how,
We expand bliss.
Just
Remember
The list requires
initiating imagination
(like when we were kids)
Miracles exist
So long as you allow yourself to believe it
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 5:08 AM UTC
In misplaced demographics, an underlying figure
Gets lost in the middle of double-helixed bound’ry lines
Dissolving past parameters, confounding to the mind,
A deadlocked debate decides if pain or love is bigger
It’s like the world’s hardest riddle, answers buried deftly
That no savant or prodigy is able to surmise
And the truth does differ from what words can now describe.
I’ve learned that one can tread life’s forest with a steady course
And with the best of intentions and stark, concerted path
Turn winding bends ambiguous: mistake a birch for ash
So to end the tiring journey in tangent to its source
The nature of the Earth is neither white nor black
It’s more like the palate used when blue becomes grayish sky
But, then again, it’s not this easy to describe
Inside my head there lies a circuit, closed unto itself
So, through this loop I’ve learned to see the difference between
Progress and regression, what has been and has never been,
Is like finding from a deck why each hand differs that is dealt
But the answer matters not, for the circle spins again
It’s kind of like the ocean where the calm and break collides
But, then again, it’s not this easy to describe.
I’ve watched a daunting fog descend upon my clouded eyes
It curbs the hue of ev’rything to darker spectrum shades
So this shroud submerges light until definition fades,
Frustrates the sense of passion; luster steadily subsides
When the mind’s only window is comprised of rippled glass,
It’s like a drunkard’s double vision having not imbibed
But, then again, it’s not this easy to describe.
Each step I take grows even more uncertain than the last
If I could convey to you the shape of this confusion
If I could draw a diagram or picture of delusion
Then you and I might, together, construct and raise a mast
So with to steer life’s wayward ship back toward a purpose
At times, I’m unsure if living’s just learning to survive
So, in this pall, I reach you now, and in you I confide.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 4:34 PM UTC
Woke up out a cold sweat
Thinkin' will i survive the subliminal threats
Cant get a job cuz im black
Thats a brutal honest fact
So brothers switch to a jack
Dont get mad when we rollin' craps
Hood mentality
To be nba or nfl livin' fantasies
Chasin' broken dreams
Thinkin' you can get the cream
No education cuz they medias want segregation
**** the pulpit preachers talk ****
Tellin' about them ******** parables
I know im a rebel
Born saint roll me up some dank
Hit the burb park my ds on the curb
Hitt the switches for the *******
Middle finger for them snitches
If ya know me ya might be a homie
And if you a groupie
You nothing but a phony
Check my licks we steady got ya heads bobbin"
***** SHOULD HAVE KNOWN
IM STEADY MOBBIN''
I jumps in the shower
Clean as a muthafucka throw
On some baby powder
Dressed fresh to death
Makin' these girls loose they breath
***** i aint no lover
Go after them other brothers
Cuz ya cant catch me in a gank
Gas up the 64 put 30 in the tank
Gave the good lord a thank
Hit the liquor store and pour up some drank
My homie Tim riding shotgun
Im public enemy number one
Dont got a license for a gun
So thats means im illegally packin
Extra clips
Just incase for bodystackin' fools be actin'
Out but i got the clout
Rubbers on deck to keep a ** in check
Watch ya mouth before i slit ya neck
Still feelin' my music
Got ya ****** head bobbin'
***** im steady mobbin'
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC
Los jóvenes homosexuales y las muchachas amorosas,
y las largas viudas que sufren el delirante insomnio,
y las jóvenes señoras preñadas hace treinta horas,
y los roncos gatos que cruzan mi jardín en tinieblas,
como un collar de palpitantes ostras sexuales
rodean mi residencia solitaria,
como enemigos establecidos contra mi alma,
como conspiradores en traje de dormitorio
que cambiaran largos besos espesos por consigna.
El radiante verano conduce a los enamorados
en uniformes regimientos melancólicos,
hechos de gordas y flacas y alegres y tristes parejas:
bajo los elegantes cocoteros, junto al océano y la luna
hay una continua vida de pantalones y polleras,
un rumor de medias de seda acariciadas,
y senos femeninos que brillan como ojos.
El pequeño empleado, después de mucho,
después del tedio semanal, y las novelas leídas de noche, en cama,
ha definitivamente seducido a su vecina,
y la lleva a los miserables cinematógrafos
donde los héroes son potros o príncipes apasionados,
y acaricia sus piernas llenas de dulce vello
con sus ardientes y húmedas manos que huelen a cigarrillo.
Los atardeceres del seductor y las noches de los esposos
se unen como dos sábanas sepultándome,
y las horas después del almuerzo en que los jóvenes estudiantes,
y las jóvenes estudiantes, y los sacerdotes se masturban,
y los animales fornican directamente,
y las abejas huelen a sangre, y las moscas zumban coléricas,
y los primos juegan extrañamente con sus primas,
y los médicos miran con furia al marido de la joven paciente,
y las horas de la mañana en que el profesor, como por descuido,
cumple con su deber conyugal, y desayuna,
y, más aún, los adúlteros, que se aman con verdadero amor
sobre lechos altos y largos como embarcaciones:
seguramente, eternamente me rodea
este gran bosque respiratorio y enredado
con grandes flores como bocas y dentaduras
y negras raíces en forma de uñas y zapatos.
1.4k
so you die.
in medias res (every story starts
in the middle) when
you awake from unsettling
dreams to find yourself transformed in your bed into
this city—
subway tunnels bursting with the hello(hello((hello(((hello))) of small children
and ***** words spraypainted by *****
minds onto *****
boxcars sitting like greyhounds
retired from racing and
awaiting the
slaughter—it will all
be beautiful later.
and when blinding light races
toward you
(every story ends
in the middle)
Nov 2, 2011
Nov 2, 2011 at 2:01 AM UTC
Mal humor en una mañana de resaca,
reza así el titular.
¿Qué pasó anoche? Nada. Traición en la noche.
De expectativas, de miradas,
traición de bebida y de risas y roces.
Traición invisible en la noche;
mía, quizás. Otra vez.
—mala secuela, recibe 2 estrellas y la tachan de repetitiva—
Llegamos in medias res, lleva tiempo la cinta.
Estrellas y personas flotan en la piscina.
Ella flota al lado de mí en la piscina
—sin verme—,
yo floto por puro orgullo en la piscina,
—aguas de fracaso—,
y él flota también, sin verlo yo a él,
—a su lado—.
Distraido por premisas inconclusas,
por un cielo de ebrias estrellas
en el que nos zambullimos por la noche...
por la noche distraido, y distraido por la noche...
no noto cuando
despega el dolor de pecho y estómago.
La noche no se para para mí
—iluso, eso está reservado—
pero bebo para aminorar,
¿quizás demasiado?
¿La bacanal fiesta se retrasa?
Tonto, empezó ya sin ti.
La estatua de dos, a lo lejos,
se muestra en un trago de verdad.
Toca tierra el dolor de pecho y estómago.
Lo noto.
A falta de pistola sirve botella en boca.
Se vaticina
mal humor en una mañana de resaca.
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 5:02 PM UTC
I'm sick of people complaining.
I'm sick of feminism,
veganism,
equality and freedom.
I hate the human quest for perfection.
I'm sick of being human,
I'm sick of people drinking,
Sharing on social medias,
I'm sick of drugs, cigarettes and Facebook.
I'm tired of Twitter.
I hate being in debt,
I hate being in love,
I'm tired of falling,
falling,
In love.
I hate socializing,
I'm tired of humans,
Not caring,
of anything but being humans.
I'm tired of people,
Preaching about genders,
When our world is crying,
Crying,
Screaming for help.
Forget the genders,
Forget the likes,
You will never look great,
While the only thing we have in common,
Is out mother,
Mother Earth.
Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 8:34 AM UTC
Mr. Media what do you see in use?
Stupidity in a chair, idiocracy in the air
Education is just a blur, a vision that has been lost
Crippled by news crews that cast platooned views then show you what's not true.
Picture your life in a frame of comparison then digest their daily distorted narratives.
That's a daily dose for the average men. Lies captured in vivid images, Titles Capitalized, idols dress in disguise
take out your knife and cut the veil from your eyes for their message is too addictive, don't let repetition A rise.
Depressions a state of mind, medication is what follows, but what would happen to the industry's if their pills were never swallowed.
a family's all you need to fill the gaps & the hollows, don't choose your friends for today instead keep them close for tomorrow.
You'll never know what could happen, you'll always fear in the night...tragedy and calamity always just sound alike.
But if you take a moment to breathe you'll realize that you will be all right, medias all left...us with faulty fears of fiction and pure threat...depictions of falseness, fueling the mindless, yes those who don't feel, will soon witness a riot, a riot of self-destruction
Everyone has a function, soon you will find yours, with this property comes decisions, decisions at all doors
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 1:45 PM UTC
We were born in a world that didn't want us, tried to swim in waters that wanted to drown us. Living in a world where mans deep rooted connotations regarding our pigmentation was fueled by medias accusations. We ain't have have enough money for the litigations, I guess slavery ain't deserve no reparations. Instead y'all made movies that make you famous. Filming on the tears of many nations. I wasnt even meant to write about this, I was thinking about love. But how does one find the strength to love when breathing is hard
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 7:09 PM UTC
When the middle is...
just right, there will be no will
towards an ending...!!!
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 3:41 PM UTC
Third world livin' is the intention
While im.sittin' in Satan's detention
Need I mention all the little henchmen
Trolls streamin' tag teamin'
Nothin' but government covert
Intervenin' &. schemin'
Tryna see who's conscious and who advocates the nonsense
Big brother watching with there Rolex's tick tocking no need for.knocking
Kick down the doors walk through the corridors
of the media studios blast everybody I see
Set the Islamic bombs then escape free
Catastrophe givin' by me
It's me the prophet of Lost Destiny it God in me
And I'll be labeled an adversary to the epitome
jailed with no bail ain't no freedom.of speech
New world we'll slaughter fools ain't gettin' smarter
Wise up young blood wipe the crud out my eyes
Cuz brighter days are comin' Techs is hummin'
Armageddon World War III will be summoned
Millions of souls being rapture
Takin' captive
By the Muthafuckin' Puppet masters
As I travel through time
Deep in my mind
Hip hop approachin' the flat line
Nigguhs in blackface lookin' disgrace
Wipe the smiles off Satan's face
Corporate Companies ****** up our unity
Dictatin' what to play in our community
They say it ain't about race
But I'm lookin' with my optics
White audience is the topics makin' hot profits
Got nigguhs minds lynched my fist clinched
Punch out the airwaves and the medias a and how they portray
US want us to keep the guns bust
Ashes to ashes dust to dust
Breakin' off America's Pie Crust I don't eat it
From.the ******** they feedin'
Rockin' craniums im.from the slums
Makin' liberals go crazy mental in an asylum
So as the beat goes on I'm gonna continue strong
No hate for whites but hate for whites that push that ******** black stereotypes
Deep aim wipe my snipe wipe
Out competition **** the FCC commission
As my visions progresses movin' faster
Eradictin' my enemies that are servant to the fuckin' Puppet Masterssssss
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 2:40 PM UTC
I don't want to see your name anymore
I hate the way it sounds in my mind
also when it comes out of my mouth
so stop filling up my Facebook's news
feed
Stop poking me and sending me things
on other social medias
Stop texting my now broken phone
and maybe just maybe- leave me alone
I'm so sick of being reminded of the
girl who once went by NotTsundere
the girl that I've kicked out and have
forced to hide
She's already said goodbye
so now it's time for you to.
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 10:51 PM UTC
Everywhere you go,
Here i am Facebook,YouTube, and Twitter
Is me this and that.
So here we go ,
What is social? mmmm you understand it better,
so will i be wrong if i say SOCIAL means SO SHY?
So shy to express in mouth...
Then YouTube? nice you correct.
And i think is YOU TABE.
So FACEBOOK? Yeah you right
In my book is FACE BLOCK.
You always block people to see your face by nodding your head down.
All the answers was based on how we use social medias.
They are very helpful in a way that i cannot talk to my room wall
But FACEBOOK is the only place where it's acceptable to talk to a wall.
It is very good to socialize,not to sacrifies our sleep.
Too much time on social medias IS NOT GOOD!!!
The focus should be on how to be SOCIAL,not on how to SOCIAL,
One day YOUtube,TWITter and FACEbook will combine and be called
YOUtwitFACE
Better be safe than sorry!!
Avoid being ashamed...
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 7:04 AM UTC
Just stop. Dont waste your time growing your mind on my perspective. Its similar to the colective after getting contraceptives from the medias aggressive deceptive since childhoods progressive attentive. I didn't learn anything newer than you. We both got ******* by the driver of our nations fire. Shot of ***** included to help believe the deniers when they said those kids weren't killed because of their suppliers of judgment handed down thru People, Cosmo, or Enquire. We turned a closed eye to the horrific mess just to have the light of advertisement dance its color over our flesh. We dont want to think less of ourselves after all, ego cant handle anything being its own fault. So, lets blame blacks, gays, muslims, mexicans, trans, asians, preteens and their abortions, little people, disfigured fighters, mentally handicapped, single moms, single dads, the homeless pulling all nighters, the blind, the deaf, the suicidal, the bulimic, the anorexic, the institutionalized wild, the lost kids orphaned, illegally imported, Native Americans, Indians, anyone close to the Mediterranean, or from an Island in the South Pacific sea, anyone that looks, thinks, breaths different from me. Which should be no body, but you don't seem to believe so. You can't see that deep inside, our souls are made out of substance brighter than gold. You only see flesh with that closed eye. So open it and discover the lives behind. And if you think I spew only lies then go back to the beginning when I said stop reading and quit wasting everyone's time.
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 3:07 AM UTC
1.
it’s a monday night when your ma first tells you
that she never wanted to raise you catholic
and she’s sorry you had a breakdown
at the soft-mouthed age of twelve
but you have to understand
life is more complicated
than crooked teeth
and even tones
2.
on this day, in 2008: the sky was red
and you were very lonely
3.
your uncle smells of sweat and scotch and little secrets
the sun is shining and your blood swirls
a sea of brown, bubbling, tense
you cut your meat quietly
and
later,
throw up in the bathroom
with everything golden
everything burnt
4.
“you’re kidding,” she says,
ashy and freckled and too good to last,
and outside the rain falls
static in your chest
you say “no, really;”
her teeth have a gap
and you can feel
the smoke
stitched
into her breath
and
5.
“what?”
6.
there are flowers on your windowsill
in medias res: dying, never dead
and your bed is always cold
and your shoes don’t fit
and it’s alright to miss
the tears, if you want
but you don’t
7.
“oh.”
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 9:27 AM UTC
Is all that is seems is true?
Surely, the world is full of deception.
Life must have a place to hold
A religion plays it's role
Moulding the damaged world with truth
Is is said that it is corrupted with terrorism
So to be fair, some of us went astray from the teaching.
But don't be fooled by the corrupted medias
Especially the one that tries to tear us
Alas, we are resilient
Undivided, we shall stand
Thick and thin, we hold hands
In the world where trickery plays it's demise
For you people, please realized
Unknown to you, yes we are
Learn about us, and the history so far.
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 2:19 AM UTC