Nice to meet you

I am very pleased to meet you I am not particularly good at writing bios, partially because I am new to self-publishing and just terrible at self-promotion but here goes!

The irony of my previous statement is as an owner of an art gallery and performance venue I have been actively promoting artistic expression in many forms, for many years now! I am now listed as a top writer in photography and art on this platform and will endeavor to promote as much as I can in my poetry as possible.

This is not a selfless act for I am…


Music by Constant Goddard and lyrics and vocals by me

Stroll this sphere
Of souls
Strides unclear
-ly shown
strain and fear
Take toll
Atmosphere
Gets cold
Scattered tears
Take hold
Stealing years
Untold

But

I…
Can see
The art
Run free
cry …
the plea’s
of hearts
decree
spy…
the scenes
impart
of dreams
fly
set free
rain art
on me

let it

rain

© 2020 Robert Trakofler

I came across this music quite by (A very happy)accident, Constant had sent me a link to a playlist that I thoroughly enjoyed listening to! My curiosity led me to search for more of his music and this song so…


Or State of Matters, States of Matters, Mind over Matters or Matters of State. A poem By Robert Trakofler

A monochrome photograph of me clutching my forehead reflected from a puddle of water with a thin grin
A monochrome photograph of me clutching my forehead reflected from a puddle of water with a thin grin

From a distance I watch the ripples rise
As rain drops strike the hot summer pavement
Steam lifts to warp the scene before my eyes
As it shifts states of matter and my placement

The earthy scent of a cloudbursts baptize
Washing the dry grit of economy
From leaf and soil in a petrichor sigh
Freed from the weight of thirsts disharmony

A reflection of me to my surprise
Cast from a puddle is my grinning face
Looking back at me in silent reply
That this is the look of a presence graced

A final drop…


A pause for some poetic thought

Mixed media primitive painting of an older man sitting in a lounge chair staring intently with a contemplative expression
Mixed media primitive painting of an older man sitting in a lounge chair staring intently with a contemplative expression

I have an obsession with waves this is my sketch of motion…

AS always thank you for reading and or listening to my poem it means the world to this old poet. Audio link at the bottom of my poem:)

I gesture in the regard of a sunset smile
As I passage my inscription of minutes
In the grace obscured by the mundane beguiled
I was once told “young man, don’t race through the visit.”

I’m the old man now, contemplative is my pace
I strike motion in the reverence of fascination
The adoration of prosaic bloom is my chase
In the interlude…


Poetry and spoken word (A true story)

The luminous man
Always carried many lights
You must understand
He survived a ghastly plight
A blackouts remand
On a stormy summer night
With just room to stand
In a lift was trapped mid flight
Many souls were crammed
In a dark vault without sight
Sense of time expands
When your adrenalines hiked
No fresh air was fanned
As their temperatures spiked
Many elbows jammed
Some reflexive others spite
As their bodies slammed
And their minds got filled with fright
Their fates had been damned
In their natures fight or flight

This luminous man
Seemed a most affected soul
Those numerous lamps
Shiny totems of console
With ominous glance
He started to let me know
In this circumstance
Just a speck of light to…


A poem about body and gender dysmorphia

Antique photograph of a couple husband is seated and lady is standing wearing a very tight corset both very rigid looking posing for the camera
Antique photograph of a couple husband is seated and lady is standing wearing a very tight corset both very rigid looking posing for the camera

Smile but don’t smile
Do it because you can
And not for, what you could not
Beam with defiance to the hateful revile
Grin wide to the wretched blots
Gleam with guile

Cry, but don’t cry
Weep because you can
But not, for what, you can not
Scream at the silent scorn of hopes deny
Screech to break the restrain of sorrows plot
keen till you sigh

Love, but don’t love
Cherish because you can;
but not, for what, you can not
Adore with the exalt of you thereof
Embrace in the ardor of accord that amity brought
Hold together…


Or Wither in the Weather

Photograph of my shadow grasping a seedling
Photograph of my shadow grasping a seedling

Please don’t let the spaces
Where my heart knew joy
To be but aching traces
in a perpetual ploy

Please let me hold the graces
through the loss with poise
to fill the empty places
that my heart employed

I do not wish my final paces
To languish in the voids
Longing for the faces
My steps or time destroyed

Like a hollow occupation
Seeking impossible employ
As a host of aberration
Of a heart and soul disjoined

Let me always find embraces
in the elegant anoint
of the beauty that displaces
the pain of hopes…


Poetic Seedlings

Photograph of my typewriter immersed in a peach tree the buttons are marked with blosoms
Photograph of my typewriter immersed in a peach tree the buttons are marked with blosoms

Standing in the back yard of my typewriter
Rooted in the mercenary lavish
Of symbiosis for the equity of propagation
A peach tree grows a desirous fruit
Wrapped in the aspire of future yield
Like the penitent prayer of an old poet
Steeped in the selfish pursuits of philanthropic proclaim
For even the most generous heart
has an indulgent spirit
Its quarry may, be a smile
on the victim of a familiar wound;
or a freshly planted peach pit
bathed in the promise
of a many a harvest yet to come
but one thing is for certain
benevolent is not the peach tree
nor the author of…


The Fine Art of Clap Etiquette

Generally speaking, much mystery awaits the uninitiated writer here in the Medium platform as I am rounding the corner of my first year I have decided to pool together some of my observations to help newer writers understand some of the more complex aspects in this venue.

For reasons I didn’t understand at the time an astute editor of “One Minute Life Hacks” invited me to contribute to this publication, perhaps as I am primarily a writer of poetry this person felt it would be nice to give me a chance to write something more meaningful.

Well, this morning a…


Trust…

Photograph of a little girl hiding under some dining room chairs looking up with a smile on her face after being discovered
Photograph of a little girl hiding under some dining room chairs looking up with a smile on her face after being discovered

To make a thing… to break a thing
In the Manifest destiny
Of my esteem… of broken dreams
You must go west my child’s, regret
To sow my seeds of selfish deeds
For I’ve been there before and sow… will you,
To raise the garden of my dis-regard

The name of youth is hope, in trust
and they are borne to all of us
the pains they bear lay scars to all
avert your gaze and share the pall
of heedless cast complicity
the children cry a silent longing call
to arms; that hunger for felicity

Robert Trakofler

Poetry & lyric writer, drummer & vocalist Owner of an art gallery, antique store, Vegan restaurant and performance venue in Pittsburgh called The Zenith.

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