CHANGING PARTNERS

We kept on changing partners

while the band played on.

With the music moving through me

I found you in my arms. 

There was only ever this dance.

The last dance was our first.

I’d rather have this moment now 

then many half their worth.

No promise of a future that never will arrive 

Nor looking back at yesterday.
No past therein resides. 

I  need not know about you, 

from where or whence you came.

All that is, is all I need,

than changing partners once again.

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

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?

 

With hands untied and held in yours, 

you free me,

release me from the bonds of Earth.

You be me

With no between between us.

The fallacy of you and me,

of all the forms that make a “we”

disintegrates… eventually

as does the world through which we see 

creating our false identity

but fails to find and fails to see   

the portal where we  merge into Eternity.

LINGER NOT

I am starved for silence

besieged by the din of insatiable industry; 

its percolating miasma of exhaust  

belching in the air.  

 

Bound to form, barred from spirit

I move through a zone of distorted shapes and structures,

consumed by rabid activity

numbed in a heady drowse.

 

 Walk on! Walk past  the gray shadowy figures

silhouetted against the concrete and granite walls,

 stolidly shuffling by,

lost–trespassers dragged through time,

 

Alight and linger not

lest delusion overtake you,

and blind you to the truth.

 

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.