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1. Follow the path below to my learn by doing photography course iconicphotocourse\site assets\index.htm Continue the journey through the Power Point to see poems represented by photos

2. To See I am pursued by clouds thick and billowing Awe-inspiring Wondrous Illuminating the highlights & deepening the contrast of Shadows To Paint To Capture Paying no heed to Time, On this day, the light pours down as on no other day before and as it never will again It is the “God light” Luminescent Chasing Light Light pervades the valley Narrowing Opportunities Fleeting Chasing Shadows

3. Grass Hog Long fields of weeds and butterflies Sun blazing hot, beating down, wrapping Me in her arms. The rumble & vibrations power my iron horse, As it gallops down the rows of perfectly grown Chaos. All the work of God’s hands Usurped by the spinning blades. Wind kisses my brow, storm clouds Black, thick & threatening. Someday It will end, when the World is paved over, And Sun beats down on a single weed Pushing through the pavement. Resurrected.

4. Calliegirl considers chase then submits To wisdoms’ call, content that if she wants She could catch the spinning wheels. At the end Of our journey, she sits attentively, Paw raised, awaiting brush, the wipe, the treat. At the foot of my bed she circles once, Then twice, and collapses, dreaming of bones She’s stored like squirrels stow nuts. I pat her head, Say “goodnight girl” and kiss her brow gently. Sleep comes easily, my friend at her post, Dreading days when I no longer hear her Nails’ tap-dance prance across the wooden floor Leading down the hall to the leash and door. Fall days like these, decay pervades the air, Stiff pre-winter gusts, psychedelic snow, As last leaves cascade from the trees to form Rainbows we stroll through and on. As we walk, Hearing her pant steady and excited, Taking in all the newness from the path We have walked along for years, strengthens me. Her tail wag beats rhythmically on my leg While she investigates odors I will Never smell. The kids who used to pet her As we made our rounds now honk their horns as They drive by. Forever optimistic, Calliegirl Runs with Angels Lately I feel more worn than young inside, My Calliegirl can well attest to that, Still, she has seen more rowdy days herself, Quite ignorant to times’ unswerving course I suspect this unknowing keeps her young; Aware of nothing but companionship And faithful service to that end. Her leash, Once taut on our daily jaunt, now droops more Though I see her tail still wags quite swiftly. In the next life I pray we will sit and Speak splendidly for hours about our dreams And I can finally find out what those looks meant.

5. When I think of my feet And where they’ve taken me I remember a lot of pain, and There is your face - and autumn. Your gleaming golden locks with a giant pink Plastic comb, I’d won for you at the carnival While I in my faded Levi’s and worn out Leather, duck-tail and all, just let it be We drive through our town; I remark How fireplaces create smoke signals While Smoke gets in your eyes plays On the radio, in my orange ’72 Duster, Then there was your so-called “best” friend, What was her name? The one that told you You can do better than me? She was right. Although I often think that I’d have made 426 big block - that I had bought with The money I made working blacktop And fixed with my dad those nights in Our garage – and you were there, in’83. Something more of myself with you on my team, By my side like we used to whisper it would be, Instead I weep for unfilled years from then till now, - And every summer that returns to autumn. That amazing summer was magic and rainbows And I knew we’d never have that fine a time again You sat there snapping your gum incessantly Glopping on strawberry lip-gloss and brushing

6. Dame A sexy French poodle in a blue taffeta dress Knocked me off my Scooter, made my shirt A mess. But it was worth it, for an old bull Doggie like me. As poodles go, she was a Looker, a real hot hound, faraway more so Than your grimy little alley cat, undeniably, Unlike any Bitch I ever met, we bow-wow-wowed Well into the doghouse hours, Past the point of no redress, so we stayed and Tangoed well into the night and spent the whole Next afternoon picking bones. We nuzzled noses, Marking our territory, making our way home Running in the rain, stopping and kissing Under every lamp-post and street light, Our leashes dragging in the wind, If my Ex-pooch could only see me now, Frumpy old mongrel, happily she’d tell me I’d never amount to anything much, now I run With purebreds, barking loud all over town, Improving my pedigree, like a doggie should.

7. Tears of anguish, Tears untamed No two tears are cried the same. Tears of passion and broken hearts Tears which yearn for brand new starts Tears of triumph and of defeat Tears which cry out from the streets. Tears of freedom, Tears we frame Silent tears cried in vain Tears from shadows, Tears from lies Tears at night when babies cry. TEARS Tears of laughter, Tears of pain Tears of joy, Tears of shame Tears united, Tears apart Tears from heaven and from the heart. The tears we cry which cloud our eyes Are the tears we cry at sad good-byes Tears of sorrow, Tears of fear Tears for loved ones no longer here. Tears of love, Tears of pride Oceans filled with the tears we’ve cried These tears are honest These tears are true These tears I’ve passed from me to you. And so my love come hold me near And so my love and dry these tears.

8. Wishbox Angel Your Wishbox will be opened Your wishes all been read And all your dreams and hopes That dance within your head Will leave their place of solitude And join the here and now To spread a little hope In place of fear and doubt. So smile as you go Throughout your everyday And know my little dear ones Your angels guide your way. “Close your eyes my dear ones Choose your dreams this night Wise and gentle words Never hidden from our sight Make a wish my sweet ones Before you go to sleep And in your little Wishbox Place them dark and deep And when you wake my precious child From your restful night And open up your window shades And see the sun so bright All the wishes you have made Will magically come true And all the love the world can bring Will belong to you.” I see you in my mind Ever present Ever there I feel you in my heart Always close I know you care I hear you in the echoes Of the songs Sung by birds I am happy and I smile When the Angels Speak these words:

9. Tryst Today I saw Merry Turtle dancing, graceful as a butterfly in heat Feet dressed in ballerina slippers, silken pink. Mesmerized by Her hard decorative shell I stared, bathed in amber glow it glistened Swaying trees filtered the warmest light, kind that turns a deeper hue Occasionally there would be some dips, but always, Merry Turtle led, Healthy gal that she was. “Why do you dance, Merry?” Said Croaker B. To Merry Turtle “Same reason you sing, because the world is so horrible, Too horrible for me to write a poem about – so I dance instead, to forget Shades of greens and summer blues on the banks of the backwaters at Carlson’s Creek. This place feels familiar and safe like act three of a Neil Simon play. Out of the corner of my eye a shadow fell, in came Prancing a colossal contingency of frogs, your average green variety The bad and celebrate living.” Merry Turtle and Croaker B. danced for hours To the Average greens fanciful flutes, graceful as butterflies, enjoying one Another’s company, deciding on nothing new but to live and to laugh and be. Alone, I slither off unnoticed, content to seek my prey and music elsewhere. Led triumphantly by the most charming fellow - a great deal larger And fatter than the rest with cheeks as big as airbags, and a voice like Sinatra’s after two or three glasses of wine. To the sacred turtle queen’s Daughter he coyly bowed, then bellowed loud in heavy bass baritone, “I’m Croaker B. Frog, my darling dear; may I ask you for this dance?” A curtsy, a twirl, a smile, a laugh and ballerina slippers, silken pink Pirouetted Croaker’s way, “Don’t mind if I do” Merry pronounced The average greens formed a large circle, chanting and playing flutes While Croaker B. Frog & Merry Turtle, danced under the daytime moon Performing the Danish Hootchie Coochie, and Belarusian Trot.

10. Salina County Jail Cell Air thick and heavy with Smell of urine and funk Cold, hard, sticky floorMontenegro seems like a Distant fantasy to me now If the bastards want me They can come and get me, They look like dorks. Some Pretentious, some arrogant, Almost all are full of shitBeans and bread at sixLights out at eight.

11. Composure One more plate crashes hard against the wall, Then coffee cups hurled like a pitchers’ Best curve. Shrapnel swarms like bees at my cheek Intimidation, only love he knows. When night chases away the day, its worse, Nowhere to go but bed, where I lie still Praying he finds me fast asleep so he Won’t pick and peck at my too weary bones Later that night, with lit cigarette on Back stoop, I conjure curses as I sit In muted stillness, far-off from bell chimes that Wind would play like magic when God Breathed, Long before beatings, before Mighty Zeus But floorboards creak, an omen foreshadows A light in the hall, the smell of his thoughts, Goose flesh, I bite and barely breathe as he Mumbles stumbles and falls. The lamp shatters Loudly the pig calls out my name, “Hera!” My stomach ties and unties double knots I am stranded in this valley alone, Between Mount Everest and Olympus. Musty mixture of booze with sweat and smoke As I mollycoddle him to our bed Before I pay for some made up offense, Punishable by fists and force on face.

12. 330-727-8501 Ronald Milan Gura rmg67spica@yahoo.com