Little Crime, I Have an Oleander in my Eye

3ww prompt: Jolt,Ribbon,Zeal And So The Rabbit Said... Bergdorf Goodman Window photo by marisol diaz

'So much more dangerous is he who thinks he knows, than he who admits knowing nothing at all,' said the rabbit

His wisdom caused my stomach to flip with a jolt.

'Somethings are poisonous to the touch'

I considered his meaning and smiled at the thought

that I could be so wicked

That I could ever possibly be so much more than expected, deceptively small

Maybe I could be the Delphic captain of the Black Freighter.

Pin pricks of seductive coy began to cultivate around my brow

He suggested I consider the ribbon, and how quaint it would look tied to such a smug, pompous man's lapel...

Imagine such a powerful gift, such a seemingly innocent ribbon... a gift to end all gifts, ingested and adorned.

The rabbit had defined it all for me, the erudite victory was lastly to be mine.

On the morn I was to be wed, I awoke with great zeal to face the day

I tied a delicate white ribbon dipped in strychnine around a piece of English ivy...and topped it off with a fine oleander

A boutonnière for such a smart gent as you my love

and I smiled.

To see more holiday Window photos by me click HERE! - Amarettogirl

Slice

3ww prompt: Drain, Epic, Nibble

Love Slice Bergdorf Goodman window photo by marisol diaz

With the swell of the decennary

Your pea crab fingers nibble at my throat

white plumes erupted from the wave's crest,

washing up my deep frailty;

a drip of knowledge traveled down my cheek

a drain; for my soul is under the aegis of you.

You who have the blade.

Through all the tender lives infiltrating this space, epic we are not

For I too am the walrus

And you in all your glazed finery, slice me.

To see more holiday Window photos by me click HERE! - Amarettogirl

On Dying

3ww prompt: Earnest, Layer, Reactive

title: This Use To Be My Living Room, photo from On Dying Series by marisol diaz

I was born in the pandemonium of urban blood clots, but somehow I escaped. I've traveled much since then, through the arteries and veins of this rural heartland and I have to tell you that I've seen the decay. Sometimes its slow and benign, yet too often its malignant and devastating. Like the rings around a cut tree's trunk I can see the years of this state's life spiraling before me. And I am but an earnest microcosm of its day. I sit around your brittle, chafing, chipping brick and peel a layer of a earthy flesh back to see the ache. I wonder why all political repairs have been cosmetic when cosmetics are the most short-lived, insignificant aspects of living, to the blind.

"yeah" you say "but it's the seeing who are misled, who are ingenuinely reactive, who are truly blind."

I sit and contemplate your words. All I know is the saddest thing about all those homes dying and business's closing are that new hearts, dreams and passions are not moving in their place, instead those structures are sitting there, rotting, leaving the land marred with memories that like stains are impenetrably residual.

Dose of Reality

3ww prompt:Callous, Interfere, Persistent Sunday Scribblings: Lost

I wrote this for 3ww this week and I thought it very fitting to this Sunday Scribblings word - LOST

untitled by marisol diaz

That callous reality sets in every day around 4pm.
She makes her living by constantly admonishing
my imagination.
Persistent in trying to rid you of my possibility.
I sit alone in the car, driving lost and entertaining my fabrications,
weaving one thread across the other.
Creating a whole world of fictitious opportunities when...I've come to a stop
and she comes striding in, slamming the passenger door with that
smug glower

Sometimes she looks like laughing children,
an unlocked chain on a door,
or a spinning wedding band,
other times she looks like my best friend.
Still she's there to cut the tether
The feelings are nothing but frustration and mockingly all self-imposed.
Ridiculous really for reality to interfere with what is not and
what will never be.
Still I'm hopeful that the world I create in my dreams one day,
somehow, have something,
a touch, a path, a response or a resonance to do with
my waking day.

http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/