Abstractions

Of late, I have been a little distracted.

My mind filled with thoughts of 

wild flowers and freshly sprung grass 

slanting to a newly formed sun;

aware in a deeper distraction

that biological imperative

had passed its zenith

and that my one miracle, is
one more than many are gifted.

"You ought to get yourself a man,"

she said, the scent of Paco Rabanne

mingling with the more piquant aroma

of freshly ground Sidamo coffee bean.

"You'd probably get invited out more 

if you did, and us girls would feel safer;

(a giggle softening the delicately aimed barb.)

"Are you still writing by the way?"

this asked casually. 

"Not as much as I used to," I said.

"I'm probably over thinking as usual.

"Have you got anybody in mind?

You usually do."  

"That artist chap is nice," she said.

"You know who I mean. He put on
that super exhibition at the
village festival last year. 

He was in the pub with Rob at
the weekend and asked about you;

anyway darling, I must dash,

hairdressers at two. I'll see

you on Thursday as per, ok."

"He's a little abstract for me,"

I said quietly, to an elegantly

departing back. 

Thinking about wild flowers
and freshly sprung grass,
rather than the mundanity
of putting out the rubbish bin;
and that I already had a
man in my life, albeit,
still yet not fully grown.

I simply needed a lover
from time to time,

but had thought it wise not to

mention this to my best friend.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

I love this! I love how you tell the story so completely (great dialogue) yet there are nuances we must "figure out" (i.e. reference to your son). I feel as you describe, a bunch lately, after being numbed out by so much fomenting here in the USA over recent months. I live alone in the wilderness where we've only had 1.5 inches of rain since last spring & it doesn't seem like winter at all (except for chilly morns). Let suffice to say I love your poem becuz it describes how easily I get distracted by reflections upon springtime & also becuz people try to tell me how I should live all the time & it just rolls off my mind without sinking in! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Beccy]

I get told fairly often, that I ought to 'settle down, get a man,' and this poem was based on a conversation I had with someone I have known since primary school.
It's mostly women who tell me such, though the odd opportunist male occasionally pops a head above the parapet and declares his undying love, (more for a nice comfortable billet to eke out the next couple of decades, I suspect, rather than being bowled over by little old me.)

I take it all in good part, and like you I just let it roll off me. :))

Beccy. X

[barleygirl]

I'm 64 & never married & I hate when people say (all the time): "It's such a shame that a pretty girl like you never got married!"

[Sami Khalil]

They say a woman will get what she wants even if it takes time. Friendship is the foundation to so many things in life and aptly so. A splendid poem with a message...:)..............

[Lydia Shutter]

Isn't it amazing how friends can give us what they think is well-meaning advice and it is actually exactly the opposite of what we need? You know what you need in your life. Never doubt yourself. Don't think of the mundane....the freshly sprung grass and the wild flowers are far more interesting....and poetic. The imagery is stunning in this write....I could almost smell the coffee and Paco Rabanne mingling. I liked the honesty in this one. Lydi**

[NoelHC]

This painted a complete picture for me and appealed to all of my senses except touch, but it managed to touch me. Well written Beccy.

[ANTO]

One man is enough for anyone - even one non-fully-formed man.
This is a real piece of England and of life Beccy. It's like showering with soft water of Spain after being so used to the hardened limescale-ridden water of Ireland/UK.
Top write my friend.

[Terry O'Leary]

A poignant write!
Well done!!!

[W.k.kortas]

Warm, winsome, and just a touch puckish. Very nicely done, indeed.

[Woody]

the poem exudes longing and can we say wistfulness? but as Emma says, it rings true.
I always say the same thing, yur poetry's so touching. sumptuous, Beccy.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i absolutely love this....the friend talking reality, trying to fix you up, tell you what you should do, and you, the speaker, living in the abstract...a safer place...

and finding excuses not to date the artist.

i relate to this...a long period in the 70's to the 90's...not much writing about love...and shying away from any relationship that wasn't safe...meaning...that it would have to end for reasons beyond our control...

the safe ones...living within my poems...between the lines of life instead of on them.

a really well done piece...love the dialogue...

[h d e rushin]

we so easily can see the world thru the windows that others wash with vinegar. Those without streaks,
without those little dried bubbles in the corners that say to you, "you've missed a part that makes
the task complete". "Abstractions" look innocent enough, so innocent in fact we think of them
as theoretical. Perhaps even insufficiently factual , which I guess, in this world of Trump fences
and evangelical bible piracy, they may just be.

And this first stanza is exactly what I mean, which captures the notions of selfless wonder that
modern poets ascribe to. Up until Whitman no writer of poetry would dare interject the 'universal'
to describe those absolute, governed by, constitutional notions of self. Self was to be left alone.
Whispered to. Inference-ed. I have friends who say the same thing to me. Tell me what I need;
what I cant live on without. But being poets means that we do not live in a irrational world but
that we only title the irrationality of it. Great poem my friend.

with a even greater ending......dana