Dreams and Constants

A Poem by Sel Whiteley

In this hotel room of velvet sofas,

hewn gemstone lamps and etiquette,

we philosophise about our desires.

The floor is cold, cream marble

stoic to my dreams, he alone listens

to my desperate hopes of peace –

the sort only foreigners dream of

because the locals and combatants

are too busy with reality and Carpe Deim.

We speak of my three months

mediating in the North of Ireland.

His life and close relatives in Somalia.

He buys me a luxury, black coffee

as I read a mathematics paper

of variables, values and constants.

Constants like this firm friendship

I hope that we’ll share forever.

© 2009 Sel Whiteley

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Reviews

Jim W White

Ah, but this is so elusive as fed to us through such clever imagery & geography & academia. Such an imaginative way of describing a particular moment that might otherwise not connect with the uninformed reader. Much of your writing is so personal that it does feel invasive to read but this here keeps us ingeniuosly at arms-length. While we couldn't geuinely share these moments you paint so well, there's a sensitivity most vivd & genuine empathy swims your writing. Most enjoyablur (that's French for 'enjoyable'...I dunno why).
(sorry to mention Carpe *Diem*... hate correcting talent, but hope you value constructive commentary)
[quam minimum credula postero]

Posted 14 Years Ago

PianoandPage

i really enjoyed this poem. it had a sort of bohemian quality to it while still staying very clean, very vivid with the imagery.

i love how you draw us into the room... describe it with such exactness and then when you add "etiquette" it's as if it's a tangible thing, like a fancy framed mirror on the wall.

i also felt that a subtle confidence in this piece. a calm understanding of the differences between intimate friends and the idiosyncratic habits that endear and attract us to each other.

you are a master at this.