tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64877630181167315362024-02-06T18:25:08.784-08:00mjsMorgan J. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05513547491297042724noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487763018116731536.post-70562597355863198322010-03-30T10:39:00.000-07:002010-03-30T11:43:25.862-07:00first dream, get behind the mule.i was in an auditorium sitting with jared. we were facing forward, but payed little attention to what was on stage. jared went and got beers and brought them back. we sat with our feet in the aisle. we began talking about music. he said he really liked johnny cash, and some other artists. i told him he should get into tom waits, and explained why. then i noticed he was right in front of us on the other side of the aisle at arms length away. i said "hey, he's right there." tom waits looked over for a moment, but didn't really care. he was used to such attention. he was sitting looking right (away from us. he had his top hat on, that he always has on. woke up.Morgan J. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05513547491297042724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487763018116731536.post-9458899590226716002010-03-30T10:16:00.000-07:002010-03-30T10:35:56.068-07:00second dream, right before i woke upi was walking around talking to tuesday (chelsea's boss, courtney) on the phone and the girl was fairly rude. i was on the phone with her making small talk. she had called me. i was carrying my box with two boxes in it. tuesday had a high pitched voice and was very hard to understand. i was walking in a warehouse that i shouldn't have been in. i came in through the back door and looked around while on the phone. there were two other men in it, who got in through the front. earlier, i noticed them trying to get in the back, or maybe deciding if they wanted to go in the back or the front. i got the feeling they had been here before, but shouldn't be in the place. i left the building and went up a sidewalk (city setting), and i passed through a bus stop. cherisse (who was chelsea) was standing there waiting for the bus. she had lots of blue eye liner on. we talked for a moment or two, and it was a little awkward because of our past. i set down my box, and noticed she was also carrying a cardboard box with some things in it i couldn't recoginize. it was sitting beside her. i told her i was on the phone with tuesday, and then i got off the phone. cherisse's mom walked by and talked with her for a moment, said hi morgan, and then kept going. cherisse asked me if i was gonna go to some event game later, and i told her i didn't know. everything seemed rushed.Morgan J. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05513547491297042724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487763018116731536.post-27251117772279291392010-03-11T10:53:00.000-08:002010-03-11T10:54:57.322-08:00beer, cigarettes, pistolsI was walking with friends in an urban setting. We went to a bar and my friends left the picture. They didn't vanish but they were out of the picture. I guess they sat somewhere else or something. I sat at the bar and ordered a drink. A girl to my right started talking to me casually. We talked for about fifteen minutes, and all I remember her saying is that she can't speak english too well. During this conversation I looked around and got the impression that this bar was exploiting women and it was a little unsettling. At the end of the fifteen minutes she told me that time was up. I was surprised at her saying this, but started to get my wallet out assuming that I had to pay to talk to her. She put her hand on the wallet and told me the first fifteen minutes are free. I thought this was weird, but didn't give it much more thought. I finished the last sips of my beer and headed for the door. She was standing by the door, so I nodded at her politely while leaving. I wanted to talk to her more and I felt she wanted to talk to me but I just left. I wasn't going to pay her. I went around the corner of the bar to what appeared to be a large parking lot. This area reminded me of Pittsburgh. Straight ahead of me was my camera bag, open on the ground. I started talking to myself saying, "this is too far." I was upset for leaving it there. I went over and checked to make sure it was all there and it was. I zipped it up and put it on my shoulder. I then looked over and saw my black chest that I keep everything in open and sitting on the ground. I thought "what the hell" and went over to make sure everything was still in it. It was all there. A stranger came from behind me and asked me if I wanted a pack of marlboro red's. I said, "sure, I'll take a cigarette" and he replied saying, "no, nevermind." I told him I had some money, but he consistently said no. I didn't think much more of it, but then he went over and got on what appeared to be a hand held radio. Next thing I knew he had called over many of his friends and they created a half circle behind me. I backed up and they started going through my black chest. I reached in and grabbed my knife (the one stephanie morgan gave me) and pointed it at them. I tried to intimidate them, but it didn't deter them to any degree. They continued going through the chest and grabbed things I didn't care about. I saw one grab a turtle shell, another grab a twenty dollar bill. They then approached me seeking to fight. I stabbed a few of them. Suddenly, I noticed that somehow this brought a large group of people around to observe. The man that offered me the cigarettes approached a cute girl sitting down in the crowd and began tugging on her purse. She pulled a small revolver from it, and upon seeing it the man backed up. More people started to approach me. The girl came over and put the revolver in my hand. I woke up.Morgan J. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05513547491297042724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487763018116731536.post-40688677308713539612010-03-01T17:56:00.000-08:002010-03-01T18:46:24.835-08:00??I was in an urban setting driving my truck while looking for a place to park. I turned down a street and parked on the right side. I then noticed that there were people all over this street and no cars. It almost seemed like a recess but there weren't many kids. There was a man sitting in a chair beside me on the sidewalk reading a newspaper. I understood him to be there making sure no one would leave on the street behind us. He seemed to be some sort of person in charge. Understanding that I couldn't park there, I pulled out and continued looking. I found a place to park and began walking into what I knew to be an elementary school. I had my camera bag on me at this point.<br /><br />As I continued walking I came to a hall, where at the end my eyes met with a blonde haired girl. She was standing in a way that personified "I know exactly what I'm doing." She wore an astronaut suit with her helmet tucked between her left arm and hip. Light came from the right shining over her perfectly and I remember thinking how pretty she looked. I had no time to get my camera out, for she was already leaving. This instance lasted for less than ten seconds. <br /><br />I was upset for not being able to obtain a photograph of that, but continued walking. I came to the end of the hall where she had stood and turned right toward where the light was coming from. It led outside to a small courtyard (there was no door separating the inside and outside, which I didn't think anything of until I had woken up). In the courtyard, there were oval shaped monkey bars that grew higher until they reached a wall, and seemed to almost keep going as if the wall wasn't going to obstruct their path. There were kids climbing on them heading for the wall. I sat down on a bench and began taking my camera out changing from my 60mm lens to my 11-16mm wide angle. This didn't seem to be a scenario that would create that great of a picture, but for whatever reason I was going to take it. Astronaut girl came and sat beside me, looking at my camera. I noticed she had a Nikon D700 with what appeared to be a 50mm 1.4 lens around her neck. We exchanged glances for a minute or so at each others cameras. She started to pick up my lenses to study them. Once or twice during this I'd look at her face only to see her intently looking at my camera and lenses. <br /><br />I then woke up.Morgan J. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05513547491297042724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487763018116731536.post-7861882657660567342009-07-22T00:57:00.001-07:002009-07-22T09:39:18.753-07:00deer, rabbits, jesus, jesse, stars, cigarettes, and two rocking chairs.tonight i sat on my front porch in an old rocking chair, like i do most nights (which is fine by me). This night was different though, because jesus came along. i asked him if he wanted to take a seat, and he did. I asked him if he wanted a cigeratte, and he did. i knew i had enough tobacco left for the two of us. he likes drum, as do i. we sat and reflected on my day. the gracefulness of the deer; the timidness of the rabbit. we mentioned how beautiful this is, the simple meadow with a few trees scattered amongst the high grass. the dim stars staring down at us trying to shine as bright as they could through all those damn city lights. they still managed pretty well.. we mentioned how funny jesse is. how she can make us laugh so easily. our cigarettes were finished too quickly as usual. i thought about making another one as usual, but didn't go through with it. i guess he didn't really say anything the whole time. at least not in the language i used. its straight though - no worries. as long as he was there. <br /><br />he knew i would probably write about this. he also knew as did i, that not many would read it if any. and i think its better that way.Morgan J. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05513547491297042724noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487763018116731536.post-91844208889227578622009-07-21T22:09:00.000-07:002009-07-21T22:25:59.213-07:00more tales..And also today, later on, I went back out looking for more rabbits. Wanted to make it a feast, I guess. I started coming into my lower field from different angles, to approach any small creatures in secret. I saw a deer, and it was beautiful. I'm always in awe when I see a deer walking around, especially when it is not alarmed by me. I crept up slowly, while still looking for rabbits, and it continued doing two things. It would eat, and then look up at me. It did this for a good amount of time. I stopped engaging it when I was about 15 yards from it. I admired its mangled brown coat. The sun was setting just above it to the right, in a completely picture perfect way. But this photographer left his camera in the house. I got on my knees, and asked God that it would not be afraid of me. And it started walking towards me. It was really curious of me. It approached me slowly. I didn't know if I should make noises or not. I didn't want to resemble a predator in any way. I was also slightly worried that there might be a buck that would come up on me for getting close to his fawn. Didn't worry too much though, cause I had a big ass knife in my belt. It came to be about 5 yards from me, and I could barely believe it. And then it ran, and didn't stop. And that was the end of that. I experienced great joy, this day.Morgan J. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05513547491297042724noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487763018116731536.post-70523225069669677772009-07-21T21:27:00.000-07:002009-07-21T22:03:37.885-07:00my daily breadToday in my yard, I went looking for rabbits with a .22 rifle in my hands. I was determined to get myself and my dog a good meal. As I kept walking I saw a massive bird fly away from where it was landed in front of me. I didn't think much of it, and kept walking. As I came near to where it was landed, I saw a rabbit. I continued getting close to it, preparing to shoot it. And I decided it was too small. I didn't want to kill something who hadn't been on the earth a single year. So instead I just kept walking towards it to see when it would run, but it never did. And then I made the connection that the bird had attacked this rabbit. I went up to it, and it had two or three wounds. It's back legs and front left leg were completely unusable. It was definitely afraid of me as it tried to hop away, failing at every attempt. It couldn't even stand up. So I decided to pick it up and bring it back to the house. I brought it inside so the dog could smell it, but Jesse tried instantly to eat it and then repeated this effort again and again. Part of me was happy, and part of me wanted to kick her. So I brought the rabbit back outside. I was still thinking about trying to save it, but there was too much damage. So I decided to kill it. Now I was just thinking about the means of how I was going to kill it. I only have one .22 bullet, so that was out of the picture. I grabbed my knife, and was thinking about it, and then I stopped thinking. I just swung. The head came off, and the rabbit was dead. I skinned it and cut off all its feet. I took its guts out, which my dog ate in two or three bites. I read online earlier that it's really healthy for her. I cleaned the carcass, and it is in my refrigerator ready to be cooked tomorrow. the hide is being tanned. The feet are being preserved. I just got done boiling the skull to properly preserve it, which will appropriately be around my neck tomorrow in the form of a necklace. I completely honor this rabbit, and thank God for his provision. I recognize that it is the creation of God, therefore I treat it with respect.Morgan J. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05513547491297042724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487763018116731536.post-42570133615880702822009-07-14T22:57:00.000-07:002009-07-14T23:05:33.099-07:00peace, grace, loveAgain, I did not ask for this life, at least to my current knowledge. I mean, I guess if I had been given a choice sometime before my human existence, I would probably accept the ignorance and challenges of life. Nevertheless, this is where I was planted. This ridiculous family, an oppressive government, a destructive culture, and a message of a perfect man from 2000 years ago. <br /><br />What shall I do accept grow? I didn't choose these ears, this nose, or this skin color, and neither did the others all around me. They are trying their best to deal with what they were thrown into. <br /><br />I guess it's all anyone can do. <br /><br />If I am not accepted, what then will I do? What can be done other than moving on? And so I shall do. I shall grow where I'm planted. And knowing that others are simple trying to do likewise, maybe I will offer grace.Morgan J. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05513547491297042724noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487763018116731536.post-30119928794374557252008-11-16T17:28:00.000-08:002008-11-16T22:38:10.922-08:00Thomas, <br /><br /><s>My right hand clasps faith, as my left gently grasps doubt.</s> <s>my right embraces doubt; left gently clasps faith.</s> <s>Can</s> certainty accompany faith? How can this be? Again my gaze struggles to look past the cumbersome shadow of doubt. It blots out the sun, leaving me the simple sight of its silhouette and the light thereof. My struggle gains no meaning. My eyes yearn a divine blinding. I desire for his light to pierce doubt's ever-thick shadow. <br /><br /><br />MorganMorgan J. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05513547491297042724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487763018116731536.post-40741112618949937702008-10-31T10:23:00.000-07:002008-10-31T10:42:28.748-07:00from the pastThese words seem to be useless. Why take this time and put my thoughts into words, when I have so little hope that they will matter? But on I write this useless letter to no one. My faith is draining like a leaky facet. Little by little the drops of my faith slowly pour out. It is very sad, and indeed I can feel wetness in my eyes accumulating. Knowledge, I have. Wisdom, I’ve gained. Faith, I had. Shall I continue to bow my head to a God who will not show himself? Why is their a fear inside me in speaking of this? Even now, in the stillness and loneliness of my room I fear writing the silent words. Is this really real? Am I really touching the plastic on my keyboard? And why is there this longing inside of me for the God of the bible to show himself? Are we really all this empty? Is this all there is to life? Is our calling really only to have faith in an unseen God, and to promote this blindness? Shall we give out eye covers to people and say, “see this is much better.”<br /><br />I didn’t even think I was going to write any questions when I started this.<br /><br />And everything I write turns into a prayer. As it does now:<br /><br />God, look at me right now. See my heart which desires you. How can a blind man find what needs to be seen? Or the mute what needs to be heard? Father, I am inadequately prepared for this task. I am Thomas. I am Morgan. Together let us feel your hands and side<br /><br />I want to see God. I want to touch God. Refresh me. Who can make a stale bread fresh? Who can make fresh the withered fruit? This needs be done supernaturally. So again, I pray the simple words of, God show yourself.<br /><br />God show yourself.<br /><br />Where are you?<br /><br />Once I looked under the bed.<br /><br />Then I looked out by a lake.<br /><br />I searched for you in the churches.<br /><br />And in every corner of this dark room,<br /><br />But you are nowhere to be found.<br /><br />-<span style="font-style:italic;">Written in the past. My thoughts have changed since then. This was a letter I wrote a while ago intending it not to be seen by others, but I think this is good. Posting it, that is.</span>Morgan J. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05513547491297042724noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487763018116731536.post-75148500342395640672008-10-14T00:39:00.000-07:002008-10-31T09:42:34.522-07:00i see that i don't seei hold dreams in my right hand, and failures in my left. one day i will pass up emptiness for fulfillment, but today i am retrogressing. this misery is long and fearful. it seems no one can alleviate my burden.<br /><br />you've heard familiar words of life represented as a dark room, but i say it is a hall. it is long and narrow. the ceiling is not seen, nor can it be touched. it is dully lighted along the edges of the wall and floor, but it's dimness brings about feelings of fear and emptiness. yea, i say emptiness is an adequate description of this predicament. i ran for days, even years to find the the halls end, but this task proved useless. it seemed to constrict in a slow manner despite my haste. so i looked behind for a glimpse of the past, but the dim lights reply with a few quiet blinks before turning off permanently. "why has this task been brought upon me?" i cry out. again, no answer is given. i am cold, alone and frail.<br /><br /><br />Why can I not breathe?Morgan J. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05513547491297042724noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487763018116731536.post-36778616317915278062008-09-06T22:09:00.000-07:002008-10-31T09:43:03.641-07:00Clarity!she groans at the thought of his presence. touch this bowl, you can not. her teeth being shown ever more with each new engagement. her slow movements reduce a full mouth to single bites. the hunger is not for her stomach, but she'll tell you otherwise.<br /><br />you, me, her wish this division in clarity! yet it is not.<br /><br />her thoughts ponder ever so subtly the thought of sweet surrender, but only half a moment. so rudely awakened as a new one paces near. walks over and touches her head. pride seeps in as ink drops in water. thoughts of, "backwardness one has, if i won't bite." but the light comes through first small then great. more small than great. then, more great than small. and the center for selfishness diminishes as darkness against light.<br /><br />you, me, her wish this division to be clarified clearly! it <u>is</u> what it appears not.Morgan J. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05513547491297042724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487763018116731536.post-79977645645880758542008-08-22T20:46:00.000-07:002008-10-31T09:43:22.144-07:00the pursuit of nothing in the appearance of everythingcease the war inside of me against my God-absent flesh.<br /><br />i prayed once "lord take this from me, i desire it not."<br /><br />but the prayer returned void.<br /><br />for i am a dog chasing cars.<br /><br />everytime i see one, i run a little faster, but what to do with them once i reach them?<br /><br />this empty goal will never have a destination.<br /><br />i stare at the dried creek bed wondering if it will flow again. it feels as if it's been years. i don't move, but instead sit still with my feet in the dried dirt. my thoughts eagerly contemplate if the high rocks will pour in the next hour and wet this parched land. all i want is to clean my feet. i know this, that it will not rain, but on i wait. such an emptiness this is.<br /><br />i looked and thought, "look, the skies turned gray!" but drips dropped not.<br /><br />and so my eyes continue to be the source of wetness, for no other fount flows.<br /><br />as i stare at them and weep, my feet appear a little more dirty than before.<br /><br />oh lord, free my hands to put down the sword and shield. i wish not to fight nor defend. why have you placed these weapons in my hands, when they are too heavy to bear. father i wish for peace. no more fame lord, take it from me. just burn the earth already, for we are wicked. we can't escape our wickedness for even one second. lord it's too hard. just burn the earth already, and me with it. burn my flesh, for i desire only my spirit.<br /><br />this dog who desires all the scraps off our table and all the food in his bowl grows fatter. he is never satisfied and never leaves his bowl. so on we fill it, but it is useless. he still grows more concerned about his food than the day before today.<br /><br />lord, you have heard me say take this from me, yet you take not.<br /><br />you take not.<br /><br />God, kill me. for i am a fattened dog. no matter how my bowl gets filled, i only want more and nothing else. do not touch me when i am near my bowl. for i only growl now, but someday i swear i will bite.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHA6c5tVktYaH4mTMkCBV3guSuM8Chq4YLfO6qpBofhWzQnCncmhT7HxdINpdEBYTTtA_W4eUl7JTViGSmT9RsT1l7cjnS8awoxasaehxAMfon3XMUWYzVbO_n-EipEMMqmByM6N0CQHs/s1600-h/dark+copy.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 490px; height: 327px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHA6c5tVktYaH4mTMkCBV3guSuM8Chq4YLfO6qpBofhWzQnCncmhT7HxdINpdEBYTTtA_W4eUl7JTViGSmT9RsT1l7cjnS8awoxasaehxAMfon3XMUWYzVbO_n-EipEMMqmByM6N0CQHs/s320/dark+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237590629843219810" border="0" /></a><br />"suppression" by Morgan J. Smith<br />Self-Portrait<br /></div>Morgan J. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05513547491297042724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487763018116731536.post-69004013434230031632008-08-18T22:48:00.000-07:002008-08-18T22:55:57.591-07:00miss, that's irrelevant.miss, that's irrelevant. you must convince yourself in whatever you are. if you wish to be them, thoroughly convince yourself. if you know you are not this, think otherwise; show satisfaction in what you are. if it is a serious countenance you will, then let your thoughts be deep in this moment and think of nothing else. you see, what I desire is you to be confident and content in who you are and for you to show this. remember, this is all a show and shows always represent something. there is always a representation. today, the act is a representation of you. the prerequisites are none other than you understanding yourself. please be diligent, for this will take merely half the upcoming hour.<br /><br />I can only snap the photographs. it is not I who works; it is you. now pick your outfit and we'll begin.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4tOfO3SFWuifQRvt24394k8yGnUKdtXggFyv8AUVHReE-0CPGXQyE5tCmlTQxLrjRAg6ffYIodaxfxaO1Zrv3qwr0Fz2Xgq5BipdQv4kYpG3IQ_Lh5_5TrkCknRc6dCWeZZWYPyENJj0/s1600-h/amber7+copy.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 367px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4tOfO3SFWuifQRvt24394k8yGnUKdtXggFyv8AUVHReE-0CPGXQyE5tCmlTQxLrjRAg6ffYIodaxfxaO1Zrv3qwr0Fz2Xgq5BipdQv4kYpG3IQ_Lh5_5TrkCknRc6dCWeZZWYPyENJj0/s400/amber7+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236102434489717170" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">"cruciality" by Morgan J. Smith<br />Model: Amber Dawn<br /></span></div>Morgan J. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05513547491297042724noreply@blogger.com1