"outbreak" poems
Nothing can break the souls bond
between twin flames and no matter
how long you are apart or what
happens you are always connected
and sometimes two souls are even
created together and in love before
they're born.
Once a deep and powerful connection
between two people has been made
they become a vital part of each
others lives and there is no
separating them and no measure
of distance or duration of silence
can prevent the outbreak of smiles
and laughter or the strong desire
to leap into each other's arms when
they come together once more.
My soulmate lives her life like a
flame; A dance of purposeful chaos,
Her enchanting light can guide you
and quell your fears....She's hot;
warming those who respect her
and burning those who don't..She
is a flame with an unforgettable
glow...A weak man will try to dim
her luminance ... but her Soulmate
will have pleasure in fanning the
blaze as I try to do but "soulmate"
is an overused term, and a true
soul connection is very rare, but
very real and a soulmate will always
be someone who will make you the
most "you" that you can possibly
be as she does for me.
She is a mystery to me, yet so
familiar like a song I've never heard
before and a tune I've known my
entire life, knowing that we are
spiritual beings in human form
with a desire to simply connect
with a soul who feels like home.
The moment our souls connected,
our hearts became one and now every
day that I communicate with her I
can feel our love continue to grow
stronger...stronger with loyalty,
respect and encouragement and
I am so happy to share my life with
her spirit and as we grow old
together,as we continue to change
with age, there is one thing that
will never change...I will always
keep falling in love with her. Jon York 2018
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 6:14 AM UTC
Rushing ecstasy
Intensive flow
Rising high
Crashing low
Raging apathy
Falling apart
Chaotic outbreak
Back to the start
©
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC
They had the plastic coffins ready
Before the panic hit, Ebola was a planned
Population reduction project
A good distraction from Economic collapse
Governments always divert your attention
At critical moments in history
The elite wish to keep their control
Ebola had no trouble infecting
Medical professionals, but they assured us
It’s not airborne, it’s only an exchange
Of fluids, so cover up your eyes
Ebola carries with it the heat of Africa
Able to make your blood boil form the inside
A post-colonial bioweapon specifically designed
To make you fear, to make you a follower
I think my stomach can feel it spreading
Around the world, in months, years
You cannot contain something like this
By simple quarantine? Even the medical staff
Don’t want any part in it, so cover your eyes
The black plague drips sinister News
In our times, the mainstream media plans
Consumes with its grip, like Ebola
It has the power to consume, a portable
Killing-machine, enough to linger about doom?
Ebola is an outbreak, taken more seriously
The closer it hits to home, what is home
On a planet of billions of travelling people?
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 2:02 PM UTC
I feel the warmth of the sun on my skin,
Every time I leave home,
I feel the gentle breeze caressing my hair,
Each time I leave for work,
Yet, the distant morning don’t feel the same anymore,
For things are no longer the way they used to be.
Family & friends are no longer faces I see every day,
Neighbours are no longer people I meet & greet,
And colleagues have now become occasional struggles,
What’s more?
The outbreak has truly destroyed our livelihoods,
Leaving us with nothing but hope.
Hope for all of this to end,
Hope for a miracle in these unsolicited times,
While we push ourselves to the core,
To stay alive in this uproar.
Jan 29, 2021
Jan 29, 2021 at 4:19 PM UTC
multimedia macramé
sloshing propaganda sewage
on the unsuspecting public
***** lice infest ****** hill folk
west Virginia outbreak threatening the world
as we know it
flesh altering nonsense explicitly graphed
charting movement of microbes
on air, land, and/ or sea
global currents the new deliverer of death –
infected immigrants sit smiling
internment camps providing nutrition
never before experienced
as non-natives negotiate freedom
by submitting to vaccinations baths
and the standard delousing powder –
paranoid hand-sanitizer users
glued to the **** tube
spray their shoes with disinfectant
praying to an absent GOD for health
while shoveling GMO corn chips into ever widening
mouth holes
pharmaceutical companies lick lifeless lips
as Congress recognizes their humanity
while rejecting the concerns of the poor
…..no money in it –
outlandish claims of outbreaking Ebola
flood the mainstream outlets
fear: version – infinity
one more plague plan to stimulate new legislation
more law
no touching
even looking at the infirm can be cause for isolation
radiation treatments
courtesy of Fukushima, reactors 1-4 –
new found focus on fracturing the shale
releasing new oil reserves
and old bacteria
dinosaur killers
free-radicals
radically changing the genetic code
humanity altered
once again –
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 12:16 PM UTC
Fear too is an epidemic, it stretches out like
An incubation period for a kind of doom
Population control, whispered a silent elite
Who engineer our wallets, our GMO food, our futures
Ebola was a convenient way, of making us fear
Who we once were again, black as a Nigerian
We died alone in deathbeds, isolated plastic containers
For who we once were, our organs giving out
Infection was a spider hand, MSM gave us
False positives, but could the main-stream-media
Be trusted any longer? Wasn’t this just a matter
Of time, an algorithm set loose upon the billions?
Fear is that place, where people go in adversity
It’s hypnotic like an audience at a concert
It’s contagious how the will for self-preservation can spread
Fight of flee, but where to run, out of the cities?
The new normal is a kind of paranoia
While we watch the situation very closely
Every hour there is underground news about
Another case in another country, Ebola isn’t
Your grandmother that only likes good climates
She’s an engineered hypothesis of how mobility
Causes any true pandemic to become a flamboyant outbreak
The comet that signals black plagues has been seen
Fear too is a weapon, when you can’t stop the world
Because it’s too costly to do so, and you can’t
Tell the world not to fly because we’re too free
We left Africa a long time ago, but who among us
Would stand 20 meters from their open graves?
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 9:22 AM UTC
The Syrian process is a serial problem
When the disenfranchised
Cause a landslide
Of historical hatred
The key that ignites
Business and commerce
Wildfire hearts
And boiling skin
The harsh outbreak of deadly cholera
The blockade of the forceful armada
The coalition forces
Run wild like horses
The bombs keep falling
The people cry
The engine keeps stalling
The car dies
The white phosphorus
Brought by the white prosperous
Can burn to the bone
And wounds can ignite up to three days later
But the people of Raqqa
Are used to reigniting scars
They're used to searing flesh
That melts like tar
Where this will go
No one knows how far
Machines must be sustained
Hearts will be untamed
Lives constantly rearranged
A human rights activist attempts to send a report
What he's witnessed in Raqqa
Injustices; perceived and objective
But Hellfire
Turns the Internet cafe
Into a senseless violence display
The dirt, blood, and bodies
Mixed and spread like the art
That was ignored to lead to this quagmire
Whether this calamity started
At the Melian dialogue
Or a market diagram
Or a martyr's diatribe
What we need now is an m.d. to suture the wounds
But who will save us?
When noble protectors are blown up
And the reigniting scars scorch the hands that heal
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 7:48 PM UTC
I forgot what i was going to write you
I know it was important
It had something to do with life
Or was it death
I'm not a word man anyway
I spent my lot
It's gone
It used to be like an eternal fountain
The gifts just kept on coming
I was a zeitgeist monsoon
A freak outbreak of the
had to do's
There was was never a question of asking
if
Or
when
It would come
It was just
the
Viscera
Of
Life
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 9:21 PM UTC
i heard another person in my village
died today, we didn’t dare touch
the body, his organs had bled out
there are no white people here
white as ghosts, they are going home
my friends in America tell me
we are not on the news, only Jewish
people fighting muslims, but
don’t they know we all come from Africa?
i heard the super-nationals took this
virus into a lab and created a way
to rid itself of the old people of civilization
if Ebola spreads maybe the world
will not remember what it means
to come from tribes that your mother came from
once, we left Africa and now we leave her
to her misery, well you know what
maybe fiscal ebola is just around the corner
for people who live in America, people
who live their lives on debt, credit, profiting
from heatlh insurance, death insurance, the works
but the fact is, I don’t think this is going away
I think Ebola is here for a very specific reason
The world is ready for another plague
to hemorrhage like a zombie, it’s not news?
not if you are black, if your body fluids
don’t stain your white skin, not when
it’s on another continent, that you don’t have
relatives in, don’t call it a “black death”
just because it originates in bats from Africa
there isn't a vaccine because the world
intentionally doesn’t wish for our well-being
you say it isn’t airborne, it doesn’t spread easily
because we are somehow ***** and you are clean
because you are somehow rich, compared to our poverty?
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 10:35 PM UTC
rich people blame poor
people for living off the
state & poor people blame
rich people for living off
them; & the state blames
everybody for living off it;
the rich pay the state
to let them skate; the state
kills a generation of the poor
when it goes to war; the poor
only riot when there's
already too much violence;
it's been said the true
revolution starts w/in
it's also been said, it's
not what comes out, it's
what goes in; we came
out of she who he went into
but who went into him?
it's said that Abraham
wrestled god's angel til dawn;
demanding a ******* instead
God gave Abe a painful STD;
passing down through his line
until the coming Messiah; he who
is born w/out the hereditary STD
of Adam & Eve's Original Sin
if sin is the knowledge of good
& evil & Jesus was born w/out
sin, wouldn't that men Jesus didn't
know right from wrong? he only
knew the Jewish law; he wasn't
guilty of anything but he was a
trouble-maker; a poor carpenter
who said he was the king of the Jews
& didn't have any STDs, but he never
got laid so how would anyone know;
the disciple whom he loved felt an ache
in the thigh & going to see Luke, was
given a spongy bit of mold to take until
the ache went away;
since the Lord had gone around clearing
up all the sudden zoster infections there
was no outbreak except among the Pharisees
& Saducees who frequented the local temples
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 7:03 PM UTC
*The man with green hair and green hands.
A long long time ago
When army’s wore uniforms.
We were khaki they were grey.
My grandfather was fire warden
In WW2 he had seven sons
And three daughters .
You could say he was
a bit of a pacifist.
Make love not war
Was his mantra.
He married my Grandma
when she was seventeen.
They were to stay married
for over sixty five years.
And produce tribe of ten children.
He had spent his whole life
Working as a coppersmith
For the same company.
His hair and hands tinted green
From the metals Verdigris.
My father was a baby just born
In the middle of the war.
We lived in Manchester.
Money was always tight.
But we were happy.
Just as Herr ****** invaded Poland
My grandad bought our first house.
We always rented until then.
It was a large town home.
The six older boys
All joined the marines
At the outbreak of the war.
They did one act of preparation
That ultimately saved the family.
They took down an old barn for a farmer
And used the beams to shore up the stone cellar
of the house.
When the air raids came later.
We would all huddle under the stair well
Until the all clear sirens sounded.
When the bad raid came
It was the early hours of the night.
Grandad was out on fire watch.
Six of the sons were on ships
In Europe and the far east.
My aunty told me much later.
When the war was long over.
She heard the bomb falling
It screamed as it fell.
Exploding just outside our house
the house caved in and they
were all buried under the rubble
in total darkness.
She said grandma was
breastfeeding the baby my dad.
Grandad was busy the raid was a hard one.
A friend said Frank your house has been hit
It’s bad.
He dropped everything and ran and ran
Breathless he reached the fallen house.
In his heart he thought we were all dead.
It took ten neighbors four hours to reach us.
They pulled the girls out first
Then the baby my dad.
And finally the dimutive figure of my grandma.
She was weeping.
She said Frank we’ve lost everything.
There’s nothing left.
He held her in his big arms
Tears flowing from the eyes of a man
Who had had a hard life.
Who never cried.
He kisses her full on her lips
A single sign of public affection
That was out of his character.
He whispered to grandma.
That odd Mary
Because I just found
Everything I ever wanted or needed.*
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 12:36 AM UTC
There’s a woman like a dewdrop, she ’s so purer than the purest;
And her noble heart ’s the noblest, yes, and her sure faith’s the surest:
And her eyes are dark and humid, like the depth on depth of lustre
Hid i’ the harebell, while her tresses, sunnier than the wild-grape cluster,
Gush in golden-tinted plenty down her neck’s rose-misted marble:
Then her voice’s music … call it the well’s bubbling, the bird’s warble!
And this woman says, ‘My days were sunless and my nights were moonless,
Parch’d the pleasant April herbage, and the lark’s heart’s outbreak tuneless,
If you loved me not!’ And I who (ah, for words of flame!) adore her,
Who am mad to lay my spirit prostrate palpably before her—
I may enter at her portal soon, as now her lattice takes me,
And by noontide as by midnight make her mine, as hers she makes me!
2.2k
And the question is, “What constitutes the good life?” And the neurons in my brain automatically begin to connect and arrange themselves into a conveyor belt of possible responses. This is not about fancy cars and giant mansions. This is about searching high and low for the unique existence of character buried in the depths of your heart. The labyrinth of suffering is something that traps and consumes every single one of us. Being aware and accepting the circumstances that will occur after exploring all the different solutions of discovering a way to escape is a major fundamental element needed to survive. Ostracizing yourself from the countless number of distractions in today’s generation to truly identify your individuality is the most crucial procedure in recognizing an outbreak from conforming to false associations. Infinite minutes are wasted every day because there are numerous amounts of interruptions that interfere with our life’s mission. Eliminating these disturbances will erase people’s impulses to shake hands with laziness. More people need to realize that utilizing time and wisely spending the precious moments we have left should be more carefully valued before it is too late. At times like this, it is perfectly acceptable to be self absorbed on account that working towards a goal is in effect. Take the time to focus on figuring out how to learn and how to proceed in expanding the mind’s personality. It is so important to acquire the ability to control the aspect of reason. But once enough experience is achieved to gather the information on how to conquer the labyrinth of suffering, you will then inaugurate the good life.
There is only one way to assemble the knowledge as to where the door lies and that is by simply living life and never giving up. Take chances and live on curiosity. We learn by putting ourselves in situations that are out of our comfort zones, giving the opportunity to mess up. Overcoming the situation is when we gain the confidence to promote ourselves to the next level. Life is full of mistakes but it is about being intelligent about those obstacles. Building up from those faults and taking advantage of everything life offers. We will move on from every mistake only to come face to face with another one. But life carries us. It challenges us. And the brave souls that accept that challenge are the ones that go on living the good life.
Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 4:09 PM UTC
So one day this rash shows up on your arm after you go for a walk
You assume at the time no big deal
Just be careful on walks
But then the rash never leaves
It just kind of festers and grows
Until it's gone from a patch to an outbreak
You try getting more sleep
Maybe change your diet
And you stop taking walks
But the rash still grows
And it grows
And it becomes uncontrollable
It take over your life
Prevents you from going out
From enjoying life
It keeps you as it's prisoner
And you hate that rash
So you try to banish it
It's no longer a mere accident but a full infection
So you look into it some more
But there are so many things that start out as a rash
You figure maybe you just have dry skin
But what if that's not it
What if you have a disease or worse
So now you both have a rash and are afraid
You don't know what to do
So you try everything in your power
But the rash remains
You're without options
It's time to bring in outside help
You ask yourself what it could be
And as much as you think you might know
You have a hunch and you're terrified to have it confirmed
So the question remains
While ignorance is pain it is also bliss on the soul
Knowledge heals but not without bringing about an often ugly truth
That is what having a mental disorder is like
It's not beautiful
It's not easy
It's like a rash
But it's inside your brain so not quite like a rash
But also very much like a rash in the way it mentally controls you
And it eats you away begging for an answer
And answer you'l never have
At least not without some pain
Jun 17, 2020
Jun 17, 2020 at 12:29 AM UTC
To feel
All and intensely
To care
Fully and endlessly
Is it weak?
Or is a strength?
Confusion fogging my mind,
I struggle to accept my empathy
For people
For situations
Not relevant to my own
But relevant enough
To consume me
In second hand grief
I’m drowning
Yet emerging
Can I handle these emotions
And still support those in need?
It’s a question I constantly ponder.
With another outbreak,
It’s a question I need to answer.
Aug 19, 2021
Aug 19, 2021 at 10:03 PM UTC
Broken and defeated
front seat of incompetence depleted
Sleep deprived and laid to rest
beating and pounding in my chest
Evident thoughts run through my mind
time seems to be falling behind
Speak a word and i shall provoke
clinching fists and i have broke
Everything turns to an outbreak of rage
no more emotion could be bottled up and caged
I fall to the floor and I burst out crying
all I feel is me slowly dying
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 3:44 AM UTC
I seem to have aged twenty years over the last two
especially since turning seventy - a personal view.
From the outbreak of the ****** virus two years ago
there's been a gradual decline in health for this I know.
Although testing negative in the last week of November
other health issues have been cropping up in December.
I somehow think that my time may be coming around
for where the body is to be laid to rest in the ground.
Morbid thoughts such as the above are dominant today
and with some people they don't easily just go away.
In my particular case my right side has been affected
and hobble around like some disabled person detected.
I wonder how long it'll be before I won't be able to cope
with doing all of those various things that range in scope
from washing and cleaning to the other domestic chores
which need to be done on a regular basis and time scores.
Unless I can afford to pay for someone to help with it all
if circumstances don't improve and my back's to the wall
I may have to consider going into an old people's home
or in some place where you're restricted to freely roam.
Another possibility would be to invite someone else in
that's compatible to shack up with and share the 'load-in'
or even perhaps the other way around that is practical
without being negative and deemed unjustly skeptical.
Someone in whom similar interests and ideals are found
all those things that are decent, life enhancing and sound.
Already it's getting to the stage when I'll need to cut my hair
something I used to be able to do by myself in the past there
but now I can barely raise my right hand up to my head
and the whole thing is a procedure I'm beginning to dread.
-------------------
As everybody gets older and experiences the change
they may notice their movements are becoming restricted in range.
_____________________
Apr 7, 2023
Apr 7, 2023 at 5:52 AM UTC
June 28th 2015, 02:53am
The sun shall ascend in the morning, in a benediction of golden light.
Birdsong shall scatter through the air as brightly as sunlight on water,
butterflies shall rise in ragged flight, seeking out meadow nectars,
as peace breaks out throughout the peaks and valleys.
The man who works the land shall return, hungry and weary from his toil
to find his house still standing, as it always was before.
The rivers shall leap and dance over rocks and crash into waterfall ravines,
and no influx of blood shall taint their waters.
Peace shall resound in the calls of birds and laughter of children;
man shall lie with woman in untroubled spiritual and physical accord;
curve into hollow to curve, softly entwining and cradled in love,
and no sudden sounds shall disturb their loving.
The moon shall rise in the evening; swathed in luminescent clouds.
Retiring songs of birds shall herald the coming of twilight.
Peaceful breath of slumber shall rise and fall as night descends,
and all closed eyes shall be open again at sunrise.
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 9:54 PM UTC
i wonder about the gathered pressure behind your teeth at 2am
Remember when we would gather by the church behind your house and joke about the god everyone foolishly admired
You always questioned why no one praised you
And you loved it whenever girls kneeled down for you
I started to fear you in 7th grade
And you liked that
You were greater than the man nailed to the cross
You had all the attributes and then some
But the pressure behind your teeth must have a sole cause
Was it because
The girls wouldn't get on their knees for you anymore
They were scraped and ****** from your unfinished, carpet less basement
And did their heads hurt from your fluorescent lights
Were your hands too rough one day
Did they do something wrong
To cause your sudden outbreak
Because the fear people felt for you was no longer innocent
It was twisted and malevolent like your intestines
I bet you wanted to rip mine out
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 8:55 PM UTC
Then, bedded atop cushions of dark blood,
the blonde neck of a white woman.
The sun ravaged her hair
and licked the length of her pale thighs
and kneeled around her browner *******
yet to be deformed by vice or birth.
Next to her lay the ***** horses’ hooves
had stamped his eyes and brow to a pulp. He dug
two of the toes on his ***** left foot
deep into her small white ear.
She, though, lay and slept like a bride:
at the brink of happiness, of first love
as before the outbreak of a wave of Ascensions
of warm, youthful blood.
That is, until the blade
sank into her white throat
and spilt an apron of dead purple blood about her waist.
Mar 22, 2010
Mar 22, 2010 at 5:08 PM UTC
I call this one the limbo week,
Where everything lies on the verge, on the peak
of an outbreak of sorts; the end of an era,
Staring out towards the French Riviera,
Still waiting.
May 11, 2011
May 11, 2011 at 7:42 AM UTC
A broken road beneath a broken sky
A gust of wind that misses the eyes
An old man sings of hope in the shadow
Just before he's struck by lightning and dies
Storm's angry on the world it rules
Rain falls down hard on sand dunes
A lone traveller searching for refuge
Lost inside quicksand thats induced
And a layer of snow befalls a town
wrath of the gods brings blizzard all around
The homeless who searched for home all night
In the morning his frozen body Is found
Rage of the ocean kisses a boat
A tale of terror did unfold
Mother said he was fresh , only a year old
The kid was butchered and his meat was sold
As the earth shook beneath their feet
He had just fallen asleep
The beggar on the road could hardly breath
As he was crushed on the main street
For his life he made a run
But the beast was fast and he was outdone
He was cold and he was numb
It's the beast fault , he was just having some fun
They Say it's a deadly cliff
Cursed by some evil witch
and when a man ends his life
They say its the cliff that killed
Neatly laid garbage crumbs
All around the place , systematically dumped
And when the outbreak hits someone
They say it's the insecsts and we need a gun
Stories from around the world
Different people but the same words
Oh , mother nature don't you care
People are dying everywhere
Stories from around the world
Scratch the surface and see the dirt
Oh , mother nature don't you care
People are dying everywhere
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 7:23 AM UTC
Some days I wish I were an X-men
and not just an ordinary mutant.
Some days I wish I had Magician
level magic like Bink,
just enough to negate other's.
But then I look around;
The Irish and English don't have it.
The Pakistanis and Indians don't have it.
The Chinese and Taiwanese don't have it.
The Hutu and Tutsi don't have it.
The neighbors in Bab Tabbaneh and Jabal Mohsen,
don't have it.
Why should I have it?
We’re all just a bunch of Muggles.
Maybe it's a good thing I don't have superpowers.
I look around and in fits of frustration,
in bouts of rage, I might destroy all the Husnock.
I'm kinda glad now my only mutations are thoughts.
Thoughts that I put here,
viral like - infective memes - hemorrhagic e-fever.
Outbreak? Snow Crash? Virulency? Survival rate? Epicenter?
Futile epidemiology because I know
exactly what and where I am.
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
we lay horizon-angle along aisles of the city,
its veneers bore the clouds as they idle awhile
in copper-bordered cobweb bundles
and rain is language, language is rain,
loosened from the tips of wine-stain tongues,
knuckle being blown or kissed by lip
lines; we trip over them all the time
or shoe-laces of feillemort-freckled boys,
never an umbrella, washed-out old news.
listen to the not-words we aren't speaking in a
shake of salt, a game of conkers, or get out of the city
and to the woodlands where, in a haze of petrichor,
you'll hear it all around on bark and leaf and then
the tinnitus of every caravan or shed.
A tin home with an iron lid to live in,
corrugated skin,
city life is wilderness but I know there is more
and wilder such, but I only half-dream of trees
carrying curses, stolen idols or heirlooms arising in
the anatomy of snakes wearing war-hoods
purely for the purpose of poetry/.
the storms that come can rattle the trees
round the courtyard into an epilepsy unflagging
and then sometimes
in my mind, flowers spit out embers petal-tooth
and lava spills onto tarmac streets.
the night knocks on the closely matched
blocks of paving stones. fireflies are out
but it looks like they'll die, their translucent wings
bring to mind an undressed volcano.
the cathartic outbreak of spiders that
that spread into a multiplication of landmines.
Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 11:15 AM UTC
Within myself is a miasma.
Its the reason for my asthma.
It fogs the clarity of my sight
and forces regurgitation despite
shots,pills and Oxford accreditation.
They say it is a virus with"complications."
I already knew there would be no antidote
Its obvious in the way I constantly spat and choked.
I always excuse myself in an outbreak.
Wash the blood off my lips and and cope my heartache.
For a moment I can recollect myself in this disease
between the convulsions and the wheeze.
I begin to find a state of equilibrium.
And ***** myself on the tile podium.
Yet as I stare into the mirror all I can see within
Is the fury writhing underneath my skin.
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 4:40 AM UTC