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Ward Curtis Apr 2017
Aim, shoot, wind
Aim, shoot, wind

Don’t think, deliberate, contemplate
Aim, shoot, wind

Record, Report, Inform
Aim, shoot, wind

Conspirator? Collaborator? Messenger!
Aim, shoot, wind

Uncover, Reveal, Expose
Aim, shoot, wind

Who are you to judge?
You once silent ******
My pictures upset your silent thoughts
Disturbed your peaceful ignorance

Oh if only you could unsee the seen
And the Messenger be ******!
Return to self-imposed oblivion
Don’t look, don’t see, don’t know

Aim, shoot, wind
Aim, shoot, wind
Ward Curtis Feb 2017
Upon my neck
I can smell its breath
Its growl I hear
And it tastes my fear

A darkness creeps
Like a black-veiled cloak
My mind consumes
All thoughts of doom

I want to fight
Or give wings to flight
As I feel its power
Just waiting to devour

It saps my strength
Drains all resolve
Held by this power
I begin to cower

I can’t say when
I can’t say why
It just appears
To feed my fears

Still I know it breathes
Because I let it breath
The Black Dog’s there
Because I give it air
Ward Curtis Dec 2016
Deep is the feeling
The mind searches for
To life and its meaning
Behind each hidden door

Exploring the depth
Of what is the soul
Of each passing breath
And our simple role

Searching for purpose
To our very being
Just scratching the surface
Of a Creator all seeing

Does ‘God’ make it sense
And unscramble the mind
From thoughts so intense
So some peace we can find?
Ward Curtis Dec 2016
Born unto nature
Through nurture to Me
With the free will to choose
From the futures I see.

But does the mind hold the key
To the gates of my freedom
And determine the path
Of who I become?

Is all that is tried
And tested and tempted
All just decreed
By a mind much lamented?

Are all sorrows and joys
What I feel as being free
Just prisoners of what
My mind allows me to be?

So in this great journey
Of trial through my choices
Am I just a slave
To my mind and its voices?

And when I will look back
At the way which was opened
Was it a path of the conscious
Or a course predetermined?
Ward Curtis Oct 2016
In childhood it’s slow
For we’re too young to know
Unaware of this treasure
While our lives it does measure

Through pleasure and pain
And sunshine and rain
In our joy and our sorrow
It gives us tomorrow

But no one escapes
As it silently takes
The days and the weeks
Up behind us it creeps

As months turn to years
And our youth turns to fears
From the clock on the wall
We hear its soft call

Now ever aware
As it passes each year
In the rush and the haste
We still allow it to waste

As day turns to night
For its passing we fight
From our slumber we wake
In our heart there’s an ache

For Time waits for none
It can’t be undone
It marches alone
To a place unbeknown

— The End —