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POEMS

all copyrights by Ronaye Hudyma. all rights reserved

* scroll down for newest poems

 

A SIREN’S SONG

I was pulled into a dream,

drawn into the vortex,

tossed, churned, and consumed by the winds of fire

that brought me to my knees.

It was the same dream.

You were there      

doing what you usually do,

saying the things you usually say.  

Promises of pleasure lure me like a Siren’s song

toward the reefs that tear my heart to pieces.

Your crimson touch, passion’s blush scalds my skin 

yet I come to you at my peril, ignoring all the scars–

emerging with burnt hands, scorched and blackened lips.

I never opened my eyes as I lay in your arms 

drowning in a flood of memories.

The same memories that batter me against the rocks with beautiful sadness.

It was only a dream. Wasn’t it?

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O MOON

Hello, moon.

Yes, he’s gone–light-years away by now.

You were snuffed out,

threatened with extinction,

extinguished like a candle flame

and disappeared under the black robe of unbearable night.

Wasn’t it me who said loving him was never having loved before?

Wasn’t it he who professed it was impossible to love me more?

There are no stars to get my bearings.

I am lost.

The minutes turn into hours

and every hour becomes another day that he stays away.

My arms cannot grasp the vacuum.

O moon, Help me!

Light the way that I may see.

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YOUR VOICE

My body knows no other voice like yours.

Speak to me and your words are released

like carrier pigeons on the wing,

through the air, across the telephone wire

into my heart.

 

Fill my ears

that I may hear the resonance of you 

translating into touches.

They know you no other way.

 

Or say nothing at all. 

No more need be said.

Your every word remains articulate upon me,

crafted and composed, etched into permanence

as a dance or the Mona Lisa–

a gallery of memories

to be revived and unfurled.

Speak to me.

 

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THE ONE

The sun blinks…yawns, then rises

as the moon falls to earth–a dying rose before the last petal drops–

passing the torch to another day.

The eyes of Earth open

giving witness as Life moves in and out

…arises, subsides

as bird, leaf, butterfly,

the lowly rock, robin, human;

exalted or reviled. 

The One becomes the many and masquerades as form,

each thread weaving a tapestry of existence.

Interconnected. Vanishing. Replenished.

Chariots of shooting stars spin across the night sky

into the Cosmos

between the planets, beyond galaxies.

A glowing halo of conscious space is awakening

becoming aware of itself.

The “I” of Infinity…..

through You.

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POEMS by Ronaye Hudyma

NOTICE FROM AUTHOR

130 poems will be removed for public view because they are in my upcoming book “…with a broken wing.” The new ones will continue to be displayed for your enjoyment.

Copyright © Ronaye Hudyma 2017

The right of Ronaye Hudyma to be identified as author of

this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All Rights Reserved

No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication

may be made without written permission.

No paragraph of this publication may be reproduced,

copied or transmitted save with the written permission of the publisher, or in accordance with the provisions

of the Copyright Act 1956 (as amended).

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to

this publication may be liable to criminal

prosecution and civil claims for damage.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is

available from the British Library.

ISBN: 978-1-84897-991-8

This is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, places and incidents originate from the writer’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

First Published in 2017

Olympia Publishers

60 Cannon Street

London

EC4N 6NP

Printed in Great Britain

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EXPRESS TRAIN

Ye who come here;

As you peruse these pages,

view them as riding an Express Train through Time–

the same train we are all on.

When the train stops

and the Conductor turns around to tell you:

“This is where you get off”,

it doesn’t matter if you are riding first class or coach.

When your journey ends….

will you know who you truly are?

 

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WILL O’ THE WISP

 I am a firefly’s wings;

translucent in the night

transparent by day.

A will-o’-the-wisp

–the spirit of a dead dream

wandering the earth in search of you

to lead you toward your destiny.

You lost your way and  I follow you

to return the treasure that once was yours. 

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OUT OF INNOCENCE

Out of the innocence of night

in the quiet of contentment,

I come to you with a trust unclothed

and sentiment unguarded.

I come with humility and respect

with wonder, yet understanding.

I come with my need written on my heart

yet with my offerings eagerly extended.

I shall never mask or misuse your sensitivity

nor exploit your sympathies.

We love so easily, we do

for you are Love, magnanimous and mine.

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AS I REMEMBER YOU

Through sorrow one learns joy,

learns to treasure her when graced by her visit,

for the stay is always too brief.

Through sadness,

the memories of you have become sweeter

when reveling in distant luxuries.

Through words that interpret a magnitude of

meanings and messages,

mine say, “Please remember me.”

Owner of this heart set a beating,

If you in the slightest doubt my sincerity

need you but see the image reflected by my mirror

as I remember you.

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LOVE
Love, have I always known you?
Love, will I ever own you?
Love, will we ever meet again?
When was the promise made
forgotten, but still obeyed
–a vow to forever love again?

You’re a dream in my mind
from the whispering of time,
A call from a sad memory.
While I answer your prayer
are you listening somewhere and waiting for me
While I look into every face
And search for you everyplace
But stumble on strangers on the way?
Love, have you always been there?
Love, can you lead me to there?
Love, you’re eternity away.
You’re a dream in my mind
from the whispering of time
A call from a sad memory.
While I answer your prayer
Are you listening somewhere
And waiting for me?
My love, have I always known you?
Love, will I ever own you?
Love, I’ll return, this time to stay.

 

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AMBUSHED

Acerbic  words sting,

 assail the air;

hurled  like a dagger with a jab to the heart. 

Fatal blows swift and sure catch me by surprise…     

I cannot breathe.                           

Your barbed tongue maims,

slices  through the tender threads of trust and        

when the curtain falls, you feel nothing. 

Of course.

I was fodder for your senses, consumed then forgotten

No investment. No expense.

Being without me is a reprieve, a temporary Fast — no snacks, no sugar.

Yet you to me were love without restraint

 sustenance for the soul

and the bonds that did bind me were not of chains–

 but a river of ribbons flowing throughout my existence.

After a taste of the Infinite,

being without you  is death by starvation.

Now Both of us are confined to our corners

of opposite sides

where never the two shall meet.

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 STAR-CROSSED

 The sun sulks, eclipsed,

 denying us another day.

In a series of silent nights,

a fluorescent moon hovers overhead, 

our eye in the sky…

watching,                       

then blown aside by winds of ire

from stirring Giant on high.    

 

Timid raindrops crawl across a telephone wire

like cautious children anticipating a slide…

waiting

as the heavens unfold pounding its wrath upon us– 

angry thunder in rolling arpeggios

storms down with vengeance.

 

It took thousands of years

for the universe to arrange for us to meet by chance

–a chance of a lifetime;

Then a lifetime of chances

squandered by our witless folly and misdeeds.

Unrealized. Unfulfilled–

Callow youth and shallow beauty

fading into senescence and sleep. 

 

The city mourns.  Autumn tolls for her dead.

Summer has been slain–

her fruits lay lifeless, deserted in decay.

Soon Winter shall come to cover and conceal

silently effacing all traces that we ever were.

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SANS LOVE

The ambrosial choke of smoke                       

lured me to its lair and touched me.

Our skin lit like tinder–
burnt hands, singed fingers,

 

Familiar coals once flamboyant in gaudy performance

now lie low with Love’s lament.  Spent.

Dying embers in empathy with the flesh,

yet iced still your impenetrable heart.

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STILL

In a single moment,

life ripped apart the last visage of illusion

from my mind;

tearing away the memories that I viewed through,

everything I belonged to…desperately held onto.

I have been painting a portrait of existence; 

Each brush stroke filled with the pigment of significance,

masking what was really there.

Behind the window dressing,

reality is laid  bare–

an empty space of naked seeing.

Just Being.

How does it feel?

Quiet. Vacant. Still.

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HEARTLESS

You have no heart.                               

I gave you mine;

you gave it back…broken.

And now I need surgeon’s hands to hold the halves together.

 

 You have no love.                   

 I gave you mine;

you threw it away…strangled, with no emotion.  

In a sweep of your hand,

you swept away “forever”

and only left … “never”.

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GUTTED

I heard  you speak the word…married.

My mind froze. My heart stopped.

I couldn’t  breathe as it entered my body 

cutting out the space where you used to be.

Gutted. Eviscerated.

Excised with no anesthetic.

Will it still be there tomorrow?

There is no tomorrow.

I didn’t die, but we did;

taking time away with no reprieve of the past,

leaving me disfigured, severed.

Like the last time.

Love no longer has your face or body 

to invade my dreams.

Now your memory has a fence around it. An inner: No!

Irreparably, it cannot be otherwise; because it is.

It already is.

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BOOK ANNOUNCEMENT…

Coming soon – The upcoming release of Ronaye’s  book by British publisher in London, England; to be available on Amazon.

                                    

                 …with a broken wing
Expressions of
the Human Spirit

poems by Ronaye Hudyma

Description:

Whether contemporary, classic, or peppered with Elizabethan eloquence, this profound ensemble of 130 poems is not stationary. They move as if conducted with a maestro’s baton –fluid between the euphoria of life and love, the drama, the anguish of death and loss, with every nuance of human emotion spilling upon the pages.

They are poignant words written with the transparency of youth, gathering maturity and experience, evolving to wisdom, into the spiritual realm.

This is not just poetry. There are a million stories in each poem. Once for each of us. From the teenager discovering their individuality, the young adult challenged by relationships and the world around them, to the Elder denizens of Earth, who cherish their memories as veterans of life, this is a book to be read and reread, a keepsake to console, embrace and affirm your recognition of the truth within yourself that is already there.

 

 

I have released my spirit to Source,

that commands it.

Obediently I follow.

There must be no personal identity to hinder the creative act,

for if I am aware of the personality of me,

there can’t be the complete emptying to allow the spirit to circulate through the form in full freedom.

These words have become an experience not merely an idea or an imagined vision.

The further I delve into the essence of being,

the farther I slip out of radius from they that only seek the obvious.

The farther I penetrate, the broader my perspective.

I cannot be content with the satisfaction of apparent needs;

I must look past and through.

Though I climb alone, still must I strive without hesitation, without the delays of my own insecurities.

I must not stifle my ascent with needless fears or uncertainties.

Each realization is an awakening.

It is the “Ego-I” that one must annihilate,

for this alone is the element that obstructs the flow of liberation.

No body, no circumstance, no object—it is the Ego-I, the false facsimile of justification.

Sincerity must apply to every facet of my existence.

I must think, speak, act with truth.

It is the choice.

TO BE CONTINUED

The gathering of years separate us.

Distance divides us

and we are insulated from each other

by a veneer of indifference.   

Our memories are caged in solitary confinement,

untouched and undisturbed, under lock and key;

Until, in an act of mutiny,

an errant thought– fugitive from the past–

slipped into your mind

and broke into your unsuspecting heart.

All we ever were is laid bare

a trove of treasures, pristine and preserved, 

unsullied by Time

to be relived…to be continued.

ECLIPSE

My mind eclipsed and entered yours…

past a rush of memories steeped in shadows,

some submerged, sodden,

some forgotten;

yet not a single one of me–

a dearth of recollection of ever having loved me.

No birdsong or stirring beast,

no rustle of shivering leaf     

as I moved through the darkness of your indifference.

All roads to your heart were closed.

Not a murmur that I had ever been there.

It was sudden night

except the light shining through the moon.   

NASHVILLE

What am I to do?

A city girl gone country sure ain’t new

Though I tried to belong, no city slicker’s gonna turn you on

Oh Nashville, I wanted to.

Gave it all to you

I found me a honey and you kept him, too.

I’ve been living the life of the country songs I came to write

Oh Nashville, just for you.

Nashville, I’m leaving you the dreams I had

Oh Nashville, take care of them ’til I come back

Oh Nashville, keep them as a souvenir.

And will you please tell everybody when you see them

It’s killing me to go and your the reason.

But don’t say nothing ’bout these tears.

A girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do

Said goodbye to my honey, now I say goodbye to you.

But it don’t seem right

I don’t want the glitter, just my name in lights

Oh Nashville, and I want you to.

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