"pervading" poems
The crowd fades away
As chords in every melody
Rings in our ears,
And shivers downs in our body
It vibrates in every muscle
A musical fusion
Almost everything didn’t matter
It’s you, me and the beating rhythm
The graceful posture
The sway of every gesture
It’s a motion adventure.
Feeling the adrenaline pulsing through
Pervading the entity
Beating rhythm pounding, it electrifies the body
into graceful art, emancipating the sound of the music
Captivating the mind, liberating the young, reckless soul
covertly hidden inside an indifferent exterior
A freeing beauty
of movement to the rhythm
A therapy to the mind and body.
Dancing to the music,
feeling every tune
every beat
every breath of every movement,
with Explosions of Euphoria
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 7:06 AM UTC
*
Krishna asked, Romeo asked, Majnun asked
Rumi asked, Rabia asked, Kabir asked
"Who are you to make me sick?"
And the reply came in my BELOVEDz voice
**"I am LOVE; My purpose is to
Steal you away from your LIFE"**
"WHAT?"
They all asked in one voice
LOVE replied in my BELOVEDz voice:
"I steal your heart
I steal your peace
I steal your sleep
I steal your life
Secretly I make possible
For BELOVEDz and LOVERz to meet
Then I reside in your eyes
Glancing at each other
I pierce into your SOUL
I steal your heart-beats
I give goosebumps to you
I weaken your knees
I make you feel dizzy
I create butterflies in your stomach
I make you dream beyond LIFE
**"I am LOVE; My purpose is to
Steal you away from your LIFE"**
No one knows my story
I come from nowhere
I go nowhere
People think I'm a crazy phenomenon
But I'm mystical & meta-physical form of
Nature - many call it God/dess
I am all around YOU
I am all pervading
I fill your lungs with oxygen
I am the CO2 you emit
I make you see stars in daytime
I make you intoxicated without liquor
I make you search for a falling star
I make you kiss dewdrops on flowers
No one is as existential as me
I've changed the cosmos with my presence
I've transformed animals into humans
Those people who are still animals
I transit them towards humanity
If you are not in LOVE yet
You are still part of ignorant animal life
I make everyone lose their fear
I make humans play a dangerous game
I create rebellion and revolution
I make humans swim ocean of fire
I make meek person brave & courageous
To revolt against out-of-date rituals/ traditions
Once I make my home within two humans
Even though they live afar
I don't let the BELOVEDz and LOVERz
Stay away for a single moment
I make them fly into LOVE dreamz
Without a pause, without a stop
I make them write poems and sing songs
I am seen on earth, I am seen in sky
I am seen in desert, I am seen in oceans
I am seen in flowers, I am seen in moon
I am seen in clouds, I am seen in rains
I am seen in darkness, I am seen in light
**"I am LOVE; My purpose is to
Steal you away from your LIFE"**
*
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 12:17 AM UTC
There is chaos in this cosmos.
God's Eden order was lost.
Yet to him order isn't gone.
Chaos is simply his pawn.
It is part of his big story.
Its darkness reveals his glory.
So bring your chaos to him.
Light takes joy in pervading the dim.
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 1:00 AM UTC
‘LOVE’ – What mystique power it wields
In what myriad guise it wraps!
At times a sweet ache so coy to reveal
Or a sudden urge, hard to unveil
Sometimes a deep sensation
A strong surge of emotion
Permeating every atom
Pervading from top to bottom
It heightens the pulse
And makes every nerve convulse
It has left kingdoms fall asunder
And many a mighty man - surrender
Often, like dew drops falling from above
Or the warbling notes flowing out from the grove
It leaves the heart go upbeat in prosody
Changing every sensation into rhapsody
As beams of silver cast by the moon
Or the cold touch of spray in the horrid heat of noon
It soothes, embalms and thrills the heart
Filling the void and leaving no dearth
Love sublime, sure like a candle lit
Consumes itself, and never dwindles a bit
It dispels the gloom and dissipates the fright
Invigorating the soul and healing every hurt
As brilliance to stars, fragrance to flowers
Music to flute or shade to bowers
Love is to Man, freeing him from all sores
Bestowing him the strength to meet all throes
Love can neither be beguiled nor disguised
Nor be stifled or be construed
Love puts all other things into place
And hems life with a lovely lace
Love is all we seek and too scarce to find
A magic thread by which hearts are bound
Hark! It is love that makes the world spin around
And cures all the ills that surround
Oh! Love thou virtues I will defend
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 8:57 AM UTC
When his eyes first fell upon her
She was choosing avocados
In the fruit and vegetable aisle.
And he watched how her thumbs lingered
On the base of the alligator pear
And pressed, maternally.
He feigned interest in the cabbages
Whilst sensing her delicate architecture
Through his peripheral gaze.
He thought that somewhere,
In real or imaginary life,
They would soon bathe together.
And when they did,
They soaked for years in secrets,
Details suffusing through their lips and arms,
Water-hole satisfaction and moonlit deserts
To make them feel they might have transcended cabbages
And be pervading a rhapsodic realm
They forgot their friends watching in greenery,
Subsumed by each-other,
They felt no need
To live in a world of relativity and apples.
Their love-traced sphere tightened around them,
Until it ****** at the edges of their skin
And wailed when they parted.
Tighter it grew, elastic dug into their humid thighs
Contorting their once harmonic bodies
That used to fit like crosswords.
And they each became ugly to the other
As the seconds ingested their perfection
And they bickered like flailing urchins
In a deep sea soiled darkness.
Decisions were made and paroxysms detonated
And they were taken back by their
Fungal friends with tissue offerings
And ethanol.
Time passed, and memories were binned
Periodically on tuesdays
Until neither knew the other
And they would pass in the supermarket
With no more than a quickened gait
And a silent thud in each ribcage.
But neither could buy avocados.
Nov 16, 2011
Nov 16, 2011 at 12:18 PM UTC
Lemons- in fanfictions, a gritty or ****** scene.
I watched your Adam's apple bob
As you swallowed your arousal.
My head was swirling with the scent of lemons,
And I couldn't help myself
As I tottered towards you on my intoxication,
Inebriation.
My hands hit your chest,
And in our unsteadiness,
My extra push sent us tumbling...
Down onto the Citrus yellow sheets of your bed
My mouth on your neck,
Wanting only to taste your Lemon sweat.
Your eyes wandered freely,
And your hands soon followed.
Touching my *******
The perky *******
You put your mouth on one,
Extracting from it some sour mix of sweetness,
The lemon in my veins.
We mashed together,
Your member against my cavity,
Pictures of lemons in my mind.
Your hand round my throat,
You began to speak harshly,
Lemon tainting your soul.
The acid in your words,
Acid on your fingernails as they tore my skin...
It hurt,
But it hurt like the beautiful Lemons that brought me here.
You put yourself in me,
Again and again
You forced my body into submission.
My tears burned with the citrus,
My eyes now yellow,
Like the lemons.
In this lighting,
Your skin looked yellow too,
I could almost say your head was a lemon...
Pain resurfaces,
Blood,
The sensation that something was flowing into me,
I knew your lemon juice had filled my pitcher,
Now it was available for drinking.
And you did,
You drank your lemon juice with my sugar,
Lemonade of us two.
Pleasure rocked my body,
And I felt your lemon invading me.
But you yourself,
You were drawing it out of me.
My walls pulled in,
They clenched,
I let out a shrill.
The smell of our lemon sweat
Once again,
Pervading the room.
You collapsed beside me,
The drug wearing off,
Lemons exiting your mind already.
I wasn't done though.
I'm still obsessed.
Still obsessed with lemons.
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 6:26 AM UTC
he slipped beneath my skin
pervading the depths of my psyche
he did so, silently
whilst I was sleeping
disturbingly unaware
of his spirit lurking within me
i was possessed
i was tainted
i was branded
with a scar shaped like a *****
all i can say
is that something like ****
comes with a ******* life sentence
Aug 23, 2021
Aug 23, 2021 at 9:43 AM UTC
armed and dangerous, 20 oz. of hot hot coffee, tablet on lap,
sitting on the deck overlooking the bay, and once again,
unusual for me, I am touched by the sanctity of the serenity
pervading, assuaging, by waves just loud enough to sway to,
the off/on chatter of the early bird's convocation of the morning's
blessing, have survived another night to greet greatly the outlines
of loveliness in the all~of~surroundings, which hacks my brain,
for I am by forty years of habitation more accustomed to a rough and tumble city boy trader, screamer of:
buy/sell/straddle/strangle/crush/kill/mercilessness, no quarter,
no mindfulness in me naturally, until nature robs my tools of
denial, and I smell the sanctity of fresh sheets laid on bed, the
warmed blood, vein coursing, suggesting just listen, listen,
the hot shower water eradicating the prior day's sinfulness,
the highly valued sensations of sensational emptiness, and
words drifting from the surround movie theater of a vista beloved,
coming for to fill and fulfill this always~in~mourning soul by the
overhauling of a crisp, cleansing day break
I, familiar with notions of perpetuity, and at best, conceptual, though
my mind permits a drift to the thoughtfulness that this place, this moment, this performance art of spectacular breathing of another
dawning day, after thousands upon thousand of its predecessors,
and the possibility, not remote, but not promised, to anyone, just may
occur at least once more, and one must learn contentment from but
that idea, and sip the cooling dregs of coffee, the sounds of human
interference, car door slamming, the heaving breathing of morning joggers, the wind rising, the white caps snapping, precursors and
signs that natural perfection is never permanent, always in transition,
and a whispery smile crosses my cheeks, as a silly thought invades,
nature is so very human~like and yet, immortal…
composed between 6:30 and 8:30 am this day
Wed Aug 20 twenty twenty-five
Silver Beach
Aug 20, 2025
Aug 20, 2025 at 8:34 AM UTC
an oval antique photograph
from the century just passed
six youthful brothers
must be sunday dressed
exuding life and promise
facing forward all in line
symmetry pervading
sister mary in their center
on the photos right
a startling recognition
an image seen before
colins great grandfather
raymond often ray
in features and a gaze
seemed as colin
would have stood
photo has a crease
fading but still clear
now with photos recent
privileged to compare
colin next to ray
both fully present
yet a gaze away
rays gaze anticipating
army time in paris
fortune seeking in the west
fortunes to be found
four generations branching
to colin and beyond
colins gaze capturing
a journey now beginning
does he see montana paris
or the stars
repeating patterns forward
reflect photographic truth
music completes the pattern
with colorings of sound
rays trumpet and harmonica
introducing a guitar
which colin has absorbed
thus in his confirmation
new dimensions
now foreseen
confirming four generations
reflecting many more
expanding light and love
carrying our gratitude
for the glimpse
an old photograph
favored us
to find
(poem written for my grandson's
confirmation....)
May 9, 2012
May 9, 2012 at 12:38 PM UTC
Morning, good morning!
What a pleasant feeling.
Look out of your window sill
Birds chirping down hill
Rising Sun’s warmness
with an aura of happiness
Dewdrops on rose petals
Moisture on flower beds
Lanes with damp mud roads
Children waiting with bookloads
Men with their tools to workshop
Women with their bags to shop
Each in thoughts of their chores
Or in groups musing at jokes.
As the clock’s hands move forward
with the moving Sun overhead
Look out of your window sill
watch the changes downhill
All energy withered in heat
Life slows down in many a feat
The splendour of dawn faded
As the brightness of light invaded
No musings or jokes on road
None could stand the heat to hold
The empty lanes appear haunted
Silence pervading unhindered.
Look out of your window sill
Watch the Sun’s glare going still
If you enjoyed the day’s siesta
It’s a great blessing after the Fiesta
The evening’s glow at your doorstep
Spreading delight at each footstep
Look around for the actions of mankind
Adept in their chosen courses behind
With all the lives on earth in the swings
Singing the glory of Almighty on the wings
Oh! What a colourful day to consider
With lovely thoughts of you to ponder!
*************************************************
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 1:25 PM UTC
Out seaward to the horizon I see Forgiving hills where lessons fade,
Projections of my desirous plea
Patiently await their farewell to bade,
Look now for at their peak the sun is setting,
With an orange hue caressed blue sky,
And white clouded streaks like thought forgetting,
Senses renewed—our demons die.
Can you see that place where intrigue resides,
Beyond those hills ‘neath the sky turned red?
For there the heaven and earth collides,
Pervading all hope in our angels stead.
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 7:28 AM UTC
World turns slowly I am filled
40,000ft deep in the Cosmic Ocean
Puffed grey islands in a sea of mist
Pervading the awareness of Earth moving in a curling fashion, ancient bones creak slowly as the sun disappears from view
Even when human beings try to run or hide, create far flung ways of being away from their nature
A single star appears and a trio of lights blink on at the ground
unison movement
like a long laugh echoing along the circumference of our humanness
we return to our universal nature despite.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 3:37 AM UTC
Autumn, like an Indian classical dancer, dressed up
Arrives with soft rhymes and quickening steps
She comes aglow, aglow with a rare beauty
Dancing to the bracelet's tinkling song
Her floating robe falls in deep folds around her feet
As she mesmerizes all with moves full of grace
Viewing the flaming colours in assorted display
We are apt to wonder if Nature carefully saved up
All that is best for the closing grand finale
Autumn tints look enchanting all through the land
With pervading green, offset by crimson, citrus yellow
Flaming red, lustrous gold and a faded russet
The air stays crisp and sweet in the ripening fields
While stray clouds ramble in flawless turquoise sky
When autumn is thus all agog like a frenzied dervish
It gives us morbid pictures of death and decay
The trees wrestle to free themselves of their worn cloaks
Causing a cascade of withering autumn leaves
Now they fall scattered in endless stream and lie in piles
Like charred carcasses after a fierce forest fire
The rustle of dry leaves blown by the wind
Falls in our ears with the gabble of migrating birds
Pale sunshine sifts through leafless trees of maple and oak
All those leaves once stayed regal in stations high
But now tossed out like worthless chaff
They come nose diving and fall several meters below
Spreading a hazel curtain over the moist earthen crust
When trampled mercilessly by careless feet
They silently mourn their thankless fate
Graying that comes at the end of each autumnal fall
Reminds us of the pall of gloom that awaits
It is disturbing like the parting song of birds
As they fly southward before the fall of winter
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 9:09 AM UTC
In a world of laughter
I was apart of at a time
Now glides with sadness
As the refugees shine
And there in the darkness
I can see someone's face
Wholesome with fear
In deliberate disgrace
Find the world's end
And summon the flees
Through the fires and cries
Lies this appealing disease
Of rotten flesh
And from human, to be born
Crucified, embodied, concealed
And still so adorn
Notify the states
Address them assured
To be swept with the scars
In a world unsecured
With the memories of a beast
White flesh and teeth
In written disconcert
And so, whom would I bequeath?
Of decayed discontent
In a black path of a rose filled garden
Hides the wishes of a ******
Broken by the pervading Janardhan
And where the blood may spill
I may not be for real
And in this nightmare I place myself
But where I stand my eyes congeal
Broken faces, smiles depart
So much love, ruled by lust
So much hate, driven by anger
Asphyxiate my disgust
My repel of this utter evil
Where a ****** proclaims
The absence of virtues
And the murderer of William James
For the only unseen
And the utterly disturbed
Comes a vision alive
And they're truly perturbed
Where their own flesh dilapidate
With their minds running amuck
And at everyone they will berate
And in my cage of silent betrayal
I will commence to cleanse my soul
My solid trust, broken, forever damaged
I can only hope for extol
And yet my own deceit
Will lead me to my fall
I still await this day
And truly bury my appall
Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 5:19 PM UTC
Next the Son, the Stunning-Cantab:
He suggested curves of beauty,
Curves pervading all his figure,
Which the eye might follow onward,
Till they centered in the breast-pin,
Centered in the golden breast-pin.
He had learnt it all from Ruskin
(Author of 'The Stones of Venice,'
'Seven Lamps of Architecture,'
'Modern Painters,' and some others);
And perhaps he had not fully
Understood his author's meaning;
But, whatever was the reason
All was fruitless, as the picture
Ended in an utter failure.
2.4k
The sun-filled corridor
Burns brightly in the heat of
That ephemeral, sweltering season.
She sits at the edge of the hallway,
Looking at the other side wistfully,
Her eyes seem to be reaching out to the other side.
To just be on that side for one moment;
To be nearer to the light, instead of staying in this place
of darkness. Heart filled with despair, the streams from the river
Fall freely down her alabaster colored face.
Her hands reaching out, pleading for a warm touch,
A Valentine embrace; a Christmas kiss under the mythical mistletoe.
People with their eyes hooked to their silicate screens
Ignore her. Even she calls out to them for attention, but they don’t
Hear. Their minds are too far into themselves. They don’t care. Nor
They ever will, much to her chagrin.
The silence kills her the most.
It’s the antithesis of cacophony.
Would she rather a discordant note pervading
the entire room than suffering through silence?
She still remembers the day she lost her voice.
The day she felt that the world was coming to an end because she wasn’t
Good enough for the masses of mainstream people who never lose
Anything but hours of sleep.
This girl can’t lose sleep because she never can sleep.
She can’t feel anything. She can’t taste the sweetness of the chocolate logs
That stay on the table near the Christmas tree. She watches as her old family
Savours every dark, sugary, nearly sinful taste of it. She can’t feel the texture of
The wall. She can’t even see past the house. She can never leave. Not since that
Fateful day. Do they still remember their daughter? Has she become a distant,
yet inevitably ephemeral scrapbook remnant?
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 10:28 PM UTC
Greens and gold of lattice work cascading down the tree,
This epiphyte, so infinitely, delicately free.
A lattice work of green finesse, a miniature Cezanne
With exquisiteness of spiky bloom embellishing it’s charm.
Cascading down the grizzled trunk of gnarled and twisted hand
The hosting ancient Kamahi looms loftily, so grand.
Looms aloft with leafy bough so softened by the show
Of ruffled, pinkish bottle brush amassing high and low.
Hordes of buzzing, bumble bees so clumsy in their way,
Tumbling from flower to flower collecting nectar’s day.
With afternoon the waning sun lies hot on sultry air
And little girls in pretty frocks skip by with not a care.
Summer grasses long and dry stand statuesque and straight
With sweet laburnum’s perfumed heads a nodding by the gate.
Young heifers graze in clover in the dell down by the brook
And the fantail dances daintily seeking insects in the nook
There’s a special, quiet majesty pervading here, so fair
With the thistledown afloat, so still with golden motes in air.
Fills my soul with gentle feeling and a rolling tear, unplanned,
For this blend of quiet ambivalence through my beauteous rural land.
Marshalg
“Foxglove” Taranaki.
NEW ZEALAND.
19 January 2014
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
Monsoon's panoply,
a dimpled day's
smile;
windstrewn
gulmohars,
a blushing brocade,
'plop'-ing droplets,
a lilting cadence;
nostalgia
pervading through
the silver-scented
puddles of a
paperboat's elation;
July evenings
and
trinkets of
yesterday...
.
Jul 21, 2020
Jul 21, 2020 at 10:15 AM UTC
You are invincible,
You are vigour of nature
You are all-pervading
Fire cannot glow you
Water cannot humidify you
Air cannot parched you
Assegai can’t engrave you
You elucidate our world
You point up way to our life
You are the source of our
Knowledge and happiness
You bequeath on us the lot
We need in this world
You are our Bathou Bwrai!
Our ultimate soul!
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 2:38 PM UTC
To the tune of "Rinsing Silk Stream"
My courtyard is small, windows idle,
spring is getting old.
Screens unrolled cast heavy shadows.
In my upper-story chamber, speechless,
I play on my jasper lute.
Clouds rising from distant mountains
hasten the fall of dusk.
Gentle wind and drizzling rain
cause a pervading gloom.
Pear blossoms can hardly keep from withering,
but droop.
2k
in our rocky mountain vistas
and certain landscape
paintings
our imaginings are captured
sometimes clear and ordered
in others stormy patterns
hiding then revealing
dark and jagged forms
almost hearing the hawk's
invisible circling call
imagining ourselves on
precipitous mountain paths
blown by shifting icy winds
vertigo and dark crevices
fearsome obstacles foreshadowing
impending loss then
most suddenly we return
to our observation places
warmth safety comfort
as before
our imagined landscape fears
now engulfed transformed
within a joyous
pervading light
a jolting new experience
mysteriously named by some
as the sublime
the word a gentle quiet
merging
of beauty and twin terrors
fear and loss
might we then find
in this our landscape viewing
a rehearsal
for life's dark confrontations
and on a promising day
enfold transmute and
with ecstatic labor
discover true beginnings
new births
reaching this time
a friend
we know and name
our sublime
Apr 30, 2012
Apr 30, 2012 at 11:51 AM UTC
I am a drop.
No, smaller than that,
I am half a drop.
Nah, even smaller,
I am a molecule.
Not yet, zoom out a bit more.
I am an atom, right?
How ‘bout a nucleus?
Proton is a better option.
Or perhaps something,
Smaller than a proton,
Or any subatomic particle?
What’s the smallest?
Is the smallest really the smallest?
May be fifty years,
Or hundred years from now, or more
Would there be a new smallest,
I think that would be me.
The ‘me’ in front of the all pervading sky
The all pervading hostility of this universe,
Or perhaps of a multiverse.
Far would be destroyed my glory,
By even a minute of such an imagination,
My blown up ego would be blown up.
Gone is my glory,
blown up is my blown up ego,
humbled am I.
Neither a king,
Nor even a slave,
who am I?
how would I know?
when would I know?
when could I perceive,
without ‘me’ at the centre?
without ‘me’ seeing ‘me’?
perhaps never,
perhaps sometime!
Am I a ‘who’?
Or am I a ‘what’?
How does it even matter
In front of all the existence?
But
What if I am the biggest?
Bigger than the mountain
Bigger than the sun
Bigger than this galaxy
Or even the universe?
What if I am the universe or the multiverse,
and kept from knowing it?
Ah! what a mystery!
Humbled am I
In front of the great mystery
Of not ‘that’ or ‘this’
But of ‘I’.
So never ask me this;
Who are you?
For I shall go silent
and never get back to you.
Or shall I ever get back to you,
what a celebration would that be?
The greatest celebration of my life,
The greatest celebration of my being.
But
What if I don’t even exist?
Or I am just this & nothing else?
May be I am a chaos,
that seems to be ordered.
May be I am an order,
that seems to be a chaos.
May be I am both.
Or may be none.
When would I know the truth?
Or may be I know the truth,
Just pretending not to know it.
May be I am the truth,
seeking out my own self.
Or a lie,
pretending to be the truth.
May be I am all that I thought,
May be I am none.
May be all I just need,
is to take a nap,
and get back to work.
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 10:46 AM UTC
An igneous rock, she took from the garden,
our rendezvous and presented as her heart to me.
It turned red at once and winked to my soul
in a cryptic primordial code, beams of light flash
telling our love had begun somewhere beyond time.
Distinct memory I have, it was glowing within the galaxy,
of billion silver stars, kept in the chest of immortality,
when we burned and burned to blend in each other's light,
"Come to me" beckoned her flame in intermittent pulses.
And I came to her in this garden, light years down,
we forget time, the spirit we are, living in elements ever,
matter and energy in an interchanging embrace, love in essence
to her "SHAKTHI" I am the "SHIVA, pervading in the cosmic vastness.
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 12:00 PM UTC
*Will, makes the body a fiddle, every string vibrates with music,
life continues to be a bacchanalia, for long, from teens to midlife,
the weakening of pleasure seeking streak, brings spirit
to the center of thought, meditativeness brings connect
with the all pervading spirit, then poetry of the universe seep in
ecstatic moments of body, mind and soul, one is convinced,
are soaked in poetic cadence, oozing from the divine spring within.*
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 7:48 AM UTC
~ " ~
through this twilight universe
where poor ghosts, breathing dreams
like air wander
they walked along the moon-lit gravel
into a bright rosy colored space
boats against the current
frightened but graceful, on the edge of
a deathless song
a stir and bustle among the stars
as she blossomed for him like a flower
pervading the air with shades and echoes of
still vibrant emotions
against the blue cool limit of the sky
he forever wed his unutterable visions
to her perishable breath
and so they drove on toward death through
the cooling twilight
~ " ~
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:46 PM UTC