Back from Utah

Hello all. I just got back to Tucson after five days in Salt Lake for a funeral. My Grandpa passed away this last Thursday. Needless to say I got behind a little on writing, but after twelve long hours in the car I am all caught up. So please check out the following blogs titled: Home, Seek, Photograph, Bones, and Traffic. Thank you all for reading!

-Bake

Upcoming words.

upcoming words. thanks for the input guys we appreciate our readers:) all 14 of you! :)

lips.
dragonfly.
happiness.
cucumber.
snail.
and skin.

might not be in that order. :)

Pretty sure it is safe to say we all feel the same when I say, this feels so good. Us three have always been "writers" of sorts, and we wanted this site to force us to write even if the subject is something we might not care for or normally be inspired by. In hopes that it will help inspire to write more about the things we are passionate about:)

so thanks again. tell all your friends.

-shan

Bones. Liz's pick.

Bones
Eyes open to a dark room
Mouth full of gauze, unable to speak
I find myself saran wrapped tightly to an office table
The walls draped neatly in plastic sheets
All around me; a collage of macabre
Faces of people I knew without knowing
People whose blood I’d spilled to feed my appetite
A lust for blood that is all too insatiable
Now I find myself…here
Helpless
A victim
In walks a man, my captor
Dressed in a transparent poncho
He is clean, perfectly clean
Unscathed as a patron saint
He leans in close as his right hand produces a scalpel
I wince as he draws a crimson line across my cheek
He places a drop of my blood on a glass microscope slide
A sick little souvenir from the event yet to ensue
“I am going to filet your body down to the very bones”
The words calmly fall from his lips
“You are going to feel what they felt and scream like they screamed”
I was astonished by the steadiness of his voice
No inflection in his tone; calm, steady as a flat-line
His collectedness assured me that this was not his first time
He was too composed, too organized to be a novice
He was too much like me
And yet I was the one on the carving table
Murderers never worry about being murdered
And under the umbrella of that assumption I became all too comfortable
I could not slake the need to feed my disease
So killing became a constant
A mundane task in which I got sloppy, jaded, just fuckin lazy
Consequently, the classic “predator becomes prey” phrase applies
He’s capitalized on my mistakes
He knew the secrets I tried to keep, he knew the monster inside
And his job is to rid the world of monsters, even though he himself is a monster
But…
No one cares if a killer kills a killer
With him justice will not be clean or swift
No, he prefers slow and nasty
I am his frog bathed in formaldehyde; his anatomy experiment
He will savor this as much as I would have
We are truly two of a kind
With a gloved hand he removes the gauze to grant me my last words spoken
All I manage to do is ask “Who are you?”
My eyes stretch and widen in fear as he pulls the trigger of a surgical saw
He coldly replies “My friends call me Dex, but you can call me Mr. Morgan”

-Ryan Baker


The character "Dex" is based on the character "Dexter" from the Showtime Series "Dexter". This character was respectfully borrowed for this piece.

Bones
Won't slaughter without a little laughter,
Don't preach to me disaster.
Can't conquer the world if we're all captured.
We are God on earth,
Bred to bring control to chaos.
Don't confuse us with a pack of rabid beasts.
Wolves only kill what they can eat.
We raze the land and smile with our sharp teeth.
Our castles cast shadows from the hill.
We've paved the paths with broken bones.
And withered mountains to dust and stones.
Morals aren't an issue when we know we're right.
Don't like the course?
Then walk away.
The process will not change,
Until silence is what remains.
-Tylor Sherman


Bones.

I used to think I'd die at thirty two.
no kids.
no you.
Something i did changed my course.
Maybe it wasn't checking the locks three times
or filling up at pump four.
I still think I will die first
a little morbid.
but true.
And when I do,
I hope they dig up my bones
and build a bed for you.

-Shannon Masayo

Mother. Megan's pick.

Mother.

I still think about that drunken night.
often.
and it still offends me.
hopefully these words don't offend you.
somehow. somewhere.
in your rumple-mint blunder the topic went from public schools
to intoxicated slander.
There was no logic in that one sided conversation
in which you probably might not even remember.
I cried myself to sleep that night dear brother.
But who cares right?
"I'm just a mom, and you are nothing but a soldier"
You may regret the life you used to lead
and the places it may have taken you
or didn't take you for that matter.
But ironically.
All I have EVER wanted,
more than anything in this world.was to be exactly what I am.
My children's mother.

p.s.
I'm sorry your dreams have not turned out...yet.
But there is still time big brother.

-Shannon Masayo



Mother
He's got his mother's eyes.
Everyone says he looks like me,
but that can't be.
Friends and family fill the field...
Who knew we knew so many people?
Such a radiant bride.
You never saw the point,
said marriage wouldn't fit you well.
But I convinced you,
Now look at you.
With a body built for a wedding dress,
I wouldn't miss this for the world,
Even as your guest.
Tylor Sherman



Mother

Tortured and tired
You’ve seen many storms
You’ve battled through hell
And smiled at the devil’s scorn
You’ve met the darkest of days
And shaken his hand
And despite his betrayal
Unflinching you stand
Though he will not relent
And dark clouds will cover
You will weather all storms
My life’s rock; my mother

-Ryan Baker

Seek. Heidi's pick.

Seek
Keep your young blood close,
The Holy War Machine's deployed.
Recruiters hunt for students
Like them Columbine boys.
"You won't die alone if you
Can get your friends to join..."
Seek and employ,
Search and destroy.
You're a soldier first, son
That fuckin' gun is not a toy.
I'd rather be buried beside
A grave of pacifist pussies than
Arbitrarily die.
Not for oil, not for money,
Not for Christian pride.
I hold my heart for the sacred stars and
Stripes in hope of stronger civil rights.
America, I thank you.
For the life I freely lead.
Dissent is the blessed beast of free speech,
So I mean this with love when I say:
Get your shit together,
In the name of life and liberty.
-Tylor Sherman


Seek.

I haven't written in a long time
with an actual pen and paper
black pen to be exact
i hate blue pens
they make my words look cheap
like your bleach streaked hair
and your pearly whites
that show through your smiley snare
I wish you'd just say how you really feel.
I'm a bitch because, I do.
But at least I am honest.
you need to get fucking real.
but until you do,
seek friendship elsewhere.

-Shannon Masayo


Seek

Take a number, stand in line
They call this limbo; purgatory
Somewhere in the middle of heaven and hell
Somewhere and nowhere at the same-time
Stand before your judge; your maker
Your executioner or your savior
Plead your case, await your fate
As the gavel slams you start pray
Now you seek forgiveness
Now you show remorse
But inaction speaks louder than the words you never spoke
The casket lid is closed now
You can’t hurt her again
May god have mercy on your soul, for your unrequited sin
May you learn to be good again, may the fates forgive your folly
Just know my mother could have been saved with one two word apology

-Ryan Baker

Photograph. Shantell's Pick.

Photogaph.

We were meant for something great.
I think i knew you in another life.
every life.
you are a part of me somehow
and i have only seen you in photographs.
you are my soul mate.
And I am comin to you.


Indiana I can't wait.

-Shannon M

photograph
To the internet community:
Just because you own an expensive camera
does not mean you know how to take a photograph.
clicking a button and creating art are two different things.
think of that before you charge people for "professional" work.
-Tylor Sherman

Photograph

I don’t photograph well and I can’t quite figure out why
When I am in a pose off with the mirror, I often think “how did you not get a modeling contract”
Then I see myself in a photograph
My hair is flat, my beard is auburn and my arms are far too long for my body
When I stand beneath the incandescent bathroom lights I feel good about myself
It flattens my features, it makes my skin look smoother, and my teeth seem less yellow
The moles on my back don’t stand out quite as much
But outside and in a photograph, my back looks like a tortilla, my teeth are discolored and my pores are deep and noticeable
I guess I am so good looking that no matter the mega-pixels or film speed, my beauty cannot be captured
So though I look bad in digital and celluloid, at least I have a bathroom mirror
It takes my best pictures

-Ryan Baker

Home.

Home
Everyone who matters to me has lived beyond Utah state lines at one point or another. Yet here I am. Still.
I spent time with my brother today.
I listened attentively to his European adventures;
Listened to his drug-induced journeys and sexual conquests.
I listened to him live the life I have read about.
Last time I saw him, he was jaded and vacant when it came to feelings or emotions. But today, he tells me about patching things up with old friends.
About how life's disappointments have led him to where he is now.
It could've been all the cotton trees, but I swear I saw his eyes swell and spill over like two tiny levies as he described recent conversations with friend.
He's finally comprehended the consequences of all his decisions.
They weren't sad or painful tears. They were grateful. Positive. Overwhelming.
I'm just thankful he still has emotions.
I don't think I excelled as an older brother,
but I'm realizing I didn't fuck him up completely.
Although I'm stuck here a for little bit longer I'm still my family's anchor.
To my wayward loved ones, I am home.
-Tylor Sherman




Home

Home is where the heart is
But my heart is in two places at once
Does this make me homeless?

-Ryan Baker


home.
In the darkest corners of the deepest parts in you,
I built a home.
For me and you and the two breathing beings we have made to live.
A place for our beds.
A resting place for Our heavy hearts and weary heads.
A place to eat and drink and be merry.
Sometimes less of the latter.
But still our home.
A place where our dance parties don't need music.
And our dinners don't need forks and spoons.
A place where the sex has never been better.
A place that I invested my whole self into.
I sewed myself to the walls of your inner rooms.
BUT now I've locked myself out.
And I've lost my extra set of keys.
-shannon masayo