"chillest" poems
254
“Hope” is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—
And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—
I’ve heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.
5.2k
I'm not yankin' your chain, pullin’ the wool over your eyes, or any of that ****
This is the job man.
Fly a plane, build a bridge, climb a mountain- do it man. Don't limit yourself.
Unless you’re not that adventurous guy, I mean, that's cool. No inner drive to be outgoing: That's cool, that's cool, I get it, stay with us… work at the Laundromat. There are so many benefits to a Laundromat. Good… well decent money. Not much real work, we operate machines, so whatever really. But the chillest part is, we get to see the creepy stains people have on their clothing... and have a good laugh behind their backs.
These stains tell stories.
Pilots are sweaty under their arms. This tells me they are confined, cramped, caged, we are free in our own little Laundromat world.
Bridge builders have industrial stains; no regular old machine will get those out. We are chillin’ working for the same pay they are at a quarter of the effort. Hikers are even worse. They are soaked head-to-toe in sweat for a view from a postcard- idiots.
It may not be as stimulating as flying a plane; as as helpful as building a bridge; as monumental as hiking a mountain; but it’s the superiorly important.
We are doing the world a huge service. Without us, there would be no uniforms for pilots, no clothes for the bridge builder, and no hiking gear for the mountain man.
Buck up, life could be worse, you could be a more useless guy with creepy stains who flies a plane- builds a bridge- or hikes a mountain and then overpays us at the Laundromat to clean his clothes.
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 9:23 PM UTC
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 2:45 AM UTC
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 12:00 PM UTC
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 1:29 PM UTC
The strongest man is just immature.
More versatile than the
much real work, we operate machines, so whatever really. But the chillest part is,
too few women in their crop-tops, their bandeau's, their strips of cloth- are
death-defyingly wild. And
far more cutting than a bullet can ever be.
We never press the surface;
you have a beautiful aroma as wood in a forest.
Help. I know I'm stronger than that.
We are all entertainers and audience members
I am an anarchist
One, please, do it with me…
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 2:21 PM UTC
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard,
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 6:34 PM UTC
“Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,”
“And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I 've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.”
-Emily Dickinson.
Jul 9, 2020
Jul 9, 2020 at 1:38 AM UTC
that night was a whirlwind. I shared your bed and your secrets and as dawn rose I realized you knew more about me than even my closest friends. in just one night, my world had been shaken when you took me to bed. You held me and we talked through the darkness and I felt happy and secure. you kissed me goodbye that morning over cigarettes and coffee and made me promise to text you. I never saw you again. for months I carried with me the most banal of facts, the things you enjoyed and admired and the things that took your breath away. I carried with me a hope that we would see each other soon. you'd buy me new earrings and take me out for thai, just like you promised. I'd hear you call me darlin once again. tonight I realized that I'd forgotten your name. and for all that I tried, I could not recall. and because of this I know, that just like the leaves are dropping, so will the details of those memories. some day i will be washed clean of that night. I'll forget the precise sound of your voice and even the color of your eyes. The only thing that will remain will be an imprint of the precious intersection of our lives. I hope it will be soft and kind. I hope I think of you and smile. (if anything, what I've learned is to believe the boys like you who say they'll break my heart. you didn't break mine. you gave me everything I wanted for just a night. It's a painless aching, but still it sweeps through my body in the dead of night. I'll learn to believe that even the chillest boy will harm my heart. I will count on self-preservation and knowledge that emotions are temporary and dripping with change)
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 12:26 PM UTC
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 7:55 AM UTC
Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 9:24 PM UTC
Hi, Come on by, I'm the Sugarman
Selling your ephemeral relief to an eternal pain
Selling you vivid daydream you could lick like an ice cream
Please, Dear come on by, My panel won't disappoint
For you I have wildest desires bottled or pressed in a pill
Hey boy, Come on by, Chillest of chills will run up your spine
Customized for you the fluffiest of clouds to make you feel fine
Meet my lucy, Trippiest colours, A scenery most words cannot define
Oh Nevermind, Feel free to try if your trust is as rest
couldn't care less, if my hair looks like a mess
Please, Come on by, for my goods are the best
My secret plaster you can use to fill the void
Don't you worry, Come on by, Don't be paranoid
Altered Perception ©
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 5:43 AM UTC