MILK

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5068]

Caressing skin
Compressing the bones within

Obtrusive persuasion
Gave me satisfaction
From ossification
On occasion

Your pretty pitiful skeletal form
Inside that dress torn

Those osteoblasts
Could never last
All forlorn

I was Paris to you
And
That’s when I knew

If I could only harden the heart the same………..

[hmskl’dParticipant 6408]

I am lactose intolerant .. therefore, I will never see .. or be .. Paris.

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5068]

hmskl’d wrote:

I am lactose intolerant .. therefore, I will never see .. or be .. Paris.

Snap Bro!
Trust me, you never want to be Paris as I regrettably was once.

[hmskl’dParticipant 6408]

I actually once imagined I’d meet my “soulmate” at an outdoor cafe on the Champs elysees .. either there, or else on some remote side street in Portugal.

Years ago, as a bachelor with stars in my eyes .. I had visions of selling everything, scraping up all the funds i could muster and buying a used but nice sailboat, at a real bargain basement price .. something on the order of a ten year old Beneteau cyclades 43.3 and provision for an ocean crossing.

I would leave Hollywood Florida and sail to Bimini, I’d practice my sailing and head on to the Caribbean eventually landing at Martinique .. and there, final provisioning for the crossing to Portugal.

There is a very brief weather window in the spring for a West to East crossing, so I would leave sailing north from Martinique .. skirt past Bahamas without stopping .. just close enough to catch the winds that would take me to Azores Islands.
This crossing would take 21 days and once in Azores, would sail on to Portugal.

My idea was to search out the perfect outdoor cafe.. enjoy a lunch and fate would bring the soulmate to my table .. provided I left an empty chair. This Unicorn would need no introduction and we would sail on together to Cannes and then visit Paris.

.. as I said this was years ago, decades ago and since that time I have realized one fatal flaw in my earlier plans .. the simple fact that all women are Awalt, and Unicorns don’t exist

.. or at least haven’t existed since the cave women of the Amazon region were lost along with the Dinosaurs during the Cretaceous–Tertiary extinction event, now called the Cretaceous–Palaeogene extinction event, was about 66 million years ago.

Not only did we lose the unique warm blooded Reptiles, we also lost the Amazon cave woman dna and her lineage leading to my possible chance encounter with a Unicorn .. my “soulmate” at that outdoor cafe in Portugal.

[Branched offParticipant 10935]

Is this Paris the place on the banks of the Seine full of frogs or is the unfortunate man who was such a fair judge that he was given the most dangerous beauty contest in the world to judge?

A woman is like fire -fun to play with, can warm you through and cook your food, needs constant feeding, can burn you and consume all you own

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5068]

Branched off wrote:

Is this Paris the place on the banks of the Seine full of frogs or is the unfortunate man who was such a fair judge that he was given the most dangerous beauty contest in the world to judge?

Neither. I will let you continue to muse over the Paris meaning.

Did you see my reply on my other poem? You didn’t reply when I posed the question as to your interpretation of my aforementioned.

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5068]

hmskl’d wrote:

I actually once imagined I’d meet my “soulmate” at an outdoor cafe on the Champs elysees .. either there, or else on some remote side street in Portugal.
Years ago, as a bachelor with stars in my eyes .. I had visions of selling everything, scraping up all the funds i could muster and buying a used but nice sailboat, at a real bargain basement price .. something on the order of a ten year old Beneteau cyclades 43.3 and provision for an ocean crossing.
I would leave Hollywood Florida and sail to Bimini, I’d practice sailing and head on the the Caribbean eventually landing at Martinique and final provisioning for the crossing to Portugal.
There is a very brief weather window in the spring for a West to East crossing, so I would leave sailing north from Martinique .. skirt past Bahamas without stopping .. just close enough to catch the winds that would take me to Azores Islands.This crossing would take 21 days and once in Azores, would sail on to Portugal.
My idea was to search out the perfect outdoor cafe.. enjoy a lunch and fate would bring the soulmate to my table .. provided I left an empty chair. This Unicorn would need no introduction and we would sail on together to Cannes and then visit Paris.
.. as I said this was years ago, decades ago and since that time I have realized one fatal flaw in my earlier plans .. the simple fact that all women are Awalt, and Unicorns don’t exist
.. or at least haven’t existed since the cave women of the Amazon region were lost along with the Dinosaurs during the Cretaceous–Tertiary extinction event, now called the Cretaceous–Palaeogene extinction event, was about 66 million years ago.
Not only did we lose the unique warm blooded Reptiles, we also lost the cave woman lineage leading to my possible chance encounter with a Unicorn .. my “soulmate” at that outdoor cafe in Portugal.

Ah, the days of beauty and innocence……or perhaps debris and nonsense?

Keep the dream moist matey!

[Branched offParticipant 10935]

Hi Colin,
Sorry I didn’t read your reply before. Life has been a little hard work of late. I honestly didn’t know what you were talking about, I didn’t have an interpretation of your other poem.

I admire your tenacity and I think you are becoming an interesting writer. For me I do like to know what a poem is about. I am not a very abstract guy, so without knowing I couldn’t comment and now I do know it does make sense and it is well written in a way that is a little abstract and minimalist for my preference but I can respect it. I only wish the subject of the poem stood on its own enough for me to have been able to see what it was about. I think it is important to not only know how a poet is saying something but also what he is saying.

As to Paris, I had hoped it might have been the son of Priam simply because I keep coming back to him again and again I my mind. When I was a boy I liked Hector best on the Trojan side now I am a little wiser, I see all the characters more deeply and Paris keeps coming to my mind as a character who has not been given nearly the treatment he deserves by authors. Was his judgement wise or foolish or just human? He was clever, just and wise enough to earn Zeus’ respect and while not a great warrior it was he who killed Achilles when greater warriors failed. Yet he was undone by a woman who brought him nothing but herself. Anyway I digress, If I were an author I would write the tale of Paris.

Plaster of Paris for its hardening properties?

A woman is like fire -fun to play with, can warm you through and cook your food, needs constant feeding, can burn you and consume all you own

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5068]

Branched off wrote:

Hi Colin,Sorry I didn’t read your reply before. Life has been a little hard work of late. I honestly didn’t know what you were talking about, I didn’t have an interpretation of your other poem.
I admire your tenacity and I think you are becoming an interesting writer. For me I do like to know what a poem is about. I am not a very abstract guy, so without knowing I couldn’t comment and now I do know it does make sense and it is well written in a way that is a little abstract and minimalist for my preference but I can respect it. I only wish the subject of the poem stood on its own enough for me to have been able to see what it was about. I think it is important to not only know how a poet is saying something but also what he is saying.
As to Paris, I had hoped it might have been the son of Priam simply because I keep coming back to him again and again I my mind. When I was a boy I liked Hector best on the Trojan side now I am a little wiser, I see all the characters more deeply and Paris keeps coming to my mind as a character who has not been given nearly the treatment he deserves by authors. Was his judgement wise or foolish or just human? He was clever, just and wise enough to earn Zeus’ respect and while not a great warrior it was he who killed Achilles when greater warriors failed. Yet he was undone by a woman who brought him nothing but herself. Anyway I digress, If I were an author I would write the tale of Paris.
Plaster of Paris for its hardening properties?

No problemo(the inbetweeners).
Abstract and surrealism is what I enjoy. Regarding minimalism, can you elaborate as to what you specifically mean?
Do you enjoy Greek history. Maybe I should transgress onto Greek/Nordic/Asian folklore. The Agita is next on my list after I finish the Aquarian Gospel Of Jesus Christ.
Yes, plaster of Paris is correct. It is about that pro that I fell for.

[CarnageParticipant 22113]

Colin Combover in a Coma wrote:

hmskl’d wrote:

I am lactose intolerant .. therefore, I will never see .. or be .. Paris.

Snap Bro!Trust me, you never want to be Paris as I regrettably was once.

Paris wich paris?

Couse i know 3 paris, two are places and the other was a loser from troy,paris of troy, paris capital of france, and paris hilton a place where a lot of dudes and a few women have been.

To those following me, be careful, I just farted. Men those beans are killers.

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5068]

Carnage wrote:

Colin Combover in a Coma wrote:

hmskl’d wrote:

I am lactose intolerant .. therefore, I will never see .. or be .. Paris.

Snap Bro!Trust me, you never want to be Paris as I regrettably was once.

Paris wich paris?
Couse i know 3 paris, two are places and the other was a loser from troy,paris of troy, paris capital of france, and paris hilton a place where a lot of dudes and a few women have been.

Plaster of Paris. Metaphorical.

[iMickey503Participant 12465]

If the first thought in my mind was not t~~~, is that a bad sign? L-)

You are all alone. If you have been falsely accused of RAPE, DV, PLEASE let all men know about the people who did this. http://register-her.net/web/guest/home

[Branched offParticipant 10935]

Hi Colin,
What I meant by minimalism in your last piece I commented on may not be the term correctly used. I have not looked it up to check but this is what I meant -sorry for the poncey metaphors that follow but they seem like the best way to explain what I mean.

It is like you have taken away a lot that might have been there. Tried to get down to the essential words. There is, I think, only one proper verb in the whole poem and the odd participle. You have left only a few well chosen words to paint your picture with. There is barely a proper sentence. You have taken the complex wine and distilled it down to a small measure of brandy. Much is lost in this sort of writing but one cannot deny that a glass of brandy also has something in it that is more than the wine ever had as well as less than it.

There is a great attraction in this type of verse. I was not criticising the style at all. Get it right and you have distilled the tiny and valuable bottle of rose oil from the 10000 flowers that are jumbled, messy and will rot soon. The danger is that in your extraction of the essential oil you take away too much and the reader is left wondering if he smells rose or geranium or worse still that parfum crap they put in bog cleaner and cheap deodorant alike.

In the case of the distillation I commented on, I felt that slightly too much had been subtracted. There comes a point where you strip away too much and instead of creating the essence you actually lose the essence. At the end of the poem after a good think about it, I want to know what I have just been told. There has to be enough structure left to tell me that I feel.

A woman is like fire -fun to play with, can warm you through and cook your food, needs constant feeding, can burn you and consume all you own

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5068]

iMickey503 wrote:

If the first thought in my mind was not t~~~, is that a bad sign? L-)

Could well be. Dependant however on the depth of your consortium with the lemmings
T… is a feeble connotation compared to the wanton whispers that have been spitefully thrust my way.

[hmskl’dParticipant 6408]

Someday, I still hope to visit Paris. There is an outdoor cafe waiting, I will order Chicken Alfredo, breadsticks, a small salad .. and a diet Coke .. watch the Parisian Chic awalts as they strut by wearing designer silk scarves in their Hepbern/Onassis sunglasses holding their glossy shopping bags. I have already begun teaching myself the most necessary elements of the French language.

for now “au revoir” .. have a great weekend

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5068]

Je m’appelle Coma.
Keep the pipe dream alive matey!
There is some crusty croissant just waiting for you in a Parisian alley.

[hmskl’dParticipant 6408]

Colin Combover in a Coma wrote:

There is some crusty croissant just waiting for you in a Parisian alley.

when passing French alleys, only consider Haute Couture croissant, i have those standards

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5068]

hmskl’d wrote:

Colin Combover in a Coma wrote:

There is some crusty croissant just waiting for you in a Parisian alley.

when passing French alleys, only consider Haute Couture croissant, i have those standards

Non, too skinny. Like a big fat saggy arse. Cellulite ridden.
Anyway, A Goose inspector Clouseau.

[Author]

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