Treblemaker

Treblemaker

NY

YWP Alumni Advisor

Posts

  • Light

    I love the light this time of day
    The way the raindrops dance and play
    The gentle shadows on your face
    The way the darkness leaves in haste

    I love the light this time of day
    The flowers' colors on display
  • Normal People Prison!

    Yaaayyyy!
    Normal people prison!
    I'm glad your finally here!
    Someone thought I stole a watch
    And lookie I'm still here! 
    Normal people prison!
    The jump suites- all the wire.
    Eatin' lunch like high schoolers
  • A year in the life

    In march I learned I value a schedule.
    A really full schedule, with a plate piled high with things to do.
    Because not having a schedule means free time
    And free time means thinking and procrastinating.
  • 7 O'clock

    Sorry I'm not ready,
    I should be- but I'm not.
    the fact that schools tomorrow?
    Can it honestly just... not.
    I woke up after twelve today,
    I read well into dawn.
    The stories blossom in the night
    (Even when I yawn).
  • One Orbital Cycle

    This year,
    Last year,
    Next year.
    Is a human construct. 
    Which in the long run means nothing
    The only difference between today
    And tomorrow
    Is the numbers with which we document time. 
    But what if.

Loves

  • Bug

    Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a bug, at least, not a common pest like moths or ladybugs, or god forbid spiders. I’m graceful, or as graceful as your children’s book describes me, and I have class.

  • Haunting Hands

    As the Cold feeling Spreads 

    Sends Shivers down the Spine 

    The Fear and Worry Pushes Through  

     

    But in this Frigid touch 

    Is the sense of Remebrance 

    The Sense of Love  

  • Dancing Leaves

    Its Hard to Resist

     When Seeing a Pile of Leaves 

    It Becomes irresistible  

     

    Jump into the Heep 

    Leaves are swirling

     The Pile is no more 

     

  • As the Crow Lands

    As the Crow Lands on the Grave- 

    Black secrets stir in every face; 

    A fountain in the moonbeam riven— 

    Spend her gone like an adversity.  

     

    The Graves began to Multiply