InCubation

I don't know what this is

InCubation

Robert · InCubation

Savor sensation

scent sight and sound;

The fades of perception

as my life unwound.

My fragments of conscious

drifted unbound;

Like plucked notes from a symphony,

till the melody’s unfound.

And the fractious fray of figment

unravels from my claim;

Like staccato snatches of pigment,

from the Picasso of my frame.

diminishing to flittering filaments

drifting in the breeze

of my conscious

as cobwebs,

became the pages

of my memory

till there was nothing.

 

 

And I, in the absence of;

Savor, sensation,

scent, sight and sound…

something remained…

Was it my displacement,

of the countless droplets

in the perpetual motion

of the water cycle?

Or the parsing,

of the many passages,

placed upon the stanzas…

of my conveyance?

This I will never fully understand,

not alive anyway;

but I can say

There is peacefulness in obliteration.

And as the I,

became a they…

like a child learning to ride a bicycle,

the reflexive sensation,

of movement in an unknown motion,

was at once;

Strangely familiar,

and completely foreign.

The fragmented I, we… they,

still existed.

 

 

Stock-still I sat upon a wingback seat,

overlooking luxurious bookshelves;

charged with many a grand treatise,

I gazed a stately looking woman

delving into the numerous volumes

For hours, days, minutes or a turn?

I could not tell…

For at times, she would dash about the shelves

an almost imperceptible blur.

And at others she would slowly dwell,

Was it I, that was a ghost,

haunting her?

Or was it she to I, this host,

watching me?

But if I turned my head,

I would no longer be in this place

And her presence was comfort.

I did not know her name,

Nor did I, my own.

and when she spoke,

there were no words

only thoughts

 

 

The cart pushers,

Were assembling in the hallway

They were tenuating

There slatbooms

And percorating

There grispolators

In preparation for…

another grand parade!

They would move about in a circular motion

Their machines would bob and turn

To lift and probe

The many other souls

hidden behind the curtains

strewn about the big round room

Soon a cart pusher will jot by

to tend my grubhubbler

and spin some knobs

occasionally,

one would mutter something in cart pusher

that I couldn’t understand

I wanted to reply

but I had no voice.

soon the cavalcade would end

as they weaved and danced about

putting away their instruments

and they would disappear behind that door.

that’s when the hunger always begins…If I could just get to that door.

 

 

“l have been accustomed to these” she said as she adjusted her spectacles.

“They are, of course, not necessary.”

She spoke while returning a book to the shelf

“It takes some time getting used to, navigating this place

You will find, it is the little things… that hold you together.”

I mustered the courage to pull myself from the chair

“There you are dear, do explore.”

I managed a few steps and abruptly slid through the floor,

and dropped into the basement.

My footing became a bit steadier and I was able to survey its contents

I conversed with the various baubles and bric-a-brac

Their notions would appear upon my view like old memories but they weren’t mine.

I came upon a curious looking object

a square brown pad that resembled a cardboard egg holder like the ones that would be hung on walls to act as sound absorbers. Picking it up I asked her what it was and she replied

“I’m afraid, dear, that is one of yours.”

Instantly, I became transfixed and the hunger that insatiable hunger pulled me away.

 

 

The bitter taste of plastic pervaded my mouth and the scorched scent of adrenaline suffused with a slightly sweet scent of vanilla charged the air as a sudden jolt of gravity spun the room about me. I dizzily spotted two cart pushers sitting at the counter in the hallway before me. The grumble of my hubbler and the hiss of the grispolator resonated as I tried to sit up to no avail. The heaviness of this place was so pervasive, how could of I forgotten? I wanted to call out to them for help, but my mouth was blocked. Reaching to pull out the plastic invader I realized my hands were bound. That’s when the teeth clenching pain hit me it quickly overwhelmed all of my senses… paralyzing unimaginable pain. The last thing I remember seeing was that impossible door!

 

______________________________________________

 

Sitting back in the library once again paralyzed in fear I reached out to her, “I do not know who I am, yet I know that I am, but I don’t know what I, is! I am scared and afraid and I am filled with such a ravenous hunger and yet I don’t know for what it is.”

My dear, there are bits of you all over these volumes you could spend an eternity searching the lines and connections strewn across these pages. You are everywhere scattered throughout. That crave is universal it is the one sense, the one thread that connects both of these places. it is the last delicious bite of a peach that you accidentally dropped. It is the revel… the feeling of the next great poem you haven’t written, the perfect brush stroke of a glorious sunset glanced on your finest day. It is the wallow on a crisp pile of rustling leaves when you were a boy smiling at the kaleidoscopic canopy dancing overhead.  That hunger, that crave, is what drives us… many try to fill it, often with the wrong things some with power, others wealth, some even food! but it requires only one thing… love, that is its fuel the more you give, the greater the resplendency. The more you try to fill it with the wrong things the greater the despondency.” No longer afraid I responded “I have something to do I…” she replied before I could finish “I know dear”

______________________________________________

 

I could taste the sweet air across my dry lips

And I felt the light brushing of fingertips tickle my forearm

The sudden rush of ozone mixed with the scent of my hospital gown filled my nose as I watched myriad fragments slowly collect about me to view the loving glance of familiar eyes looking down upon me. I heard the still imperceptible cacophony of voices and machinery inundate my ears but I felt a comfort in there sounds even as my mind could still not process much of what I was experiencing. It was at once completely foreign and strangely familiar.

 

______________________________________________

 

Robert · Rebirth

ReBirth~

How can I tell you
when my lines lack the locution
and my whisper is as effete
as the words to my ghostly outline
is it enough
to touch your brow
with my ethereal fingers
and relish in your visage
when mine is
but a cold chill
a glimpse of déjà vu
like an oddly familiar fragrance
from a fading memory.

I am here now… as I was then
Animate is my sway.
Yet my touch is still as ineffectual
as my pen stroke
But not my resolve
nor the intimation
of crave
that brought me back…

 

That ubiquitous crave
empyrean and earthly
between life and the grave
it exists universally
the root of all divine
is an insatiable mercy
and I stand here now
as I did then
and I reach for your brow
that was heaven sent
and for a moment
I fill the yearning…

 

 

     Hanging on the wall next to my hospital bed was that brown square pad resembling an egg holder. I asked a nurse what it was and she told me it was a fall alarm. I later learned that the second time I died, I had pulled myself from the bed in my recovery room.

     It took me several more weeks to be able to navigate successfully enough to return home. During this time many fragments collected and reassembled in my mind; everything from taste, touch, sound, smell, and sight; how to collate them in order to walk and express my thoughts.

     After I returned home a day or two later I managed to walk a block around the corner to my stepdaughter’s house it was Christmas Eve and I got to hold my newest granddaughter there are no words for me to describe the tearful joy of that moment.

© 2022 Robert Trakofler

Reviews

[Richard🖌]

Goodness, Robert!

One thing's for certain, nothing's hampered your skills to compose some of the best, captivating, and heart-tugging Free Style poetry I've been honored and awed to read in a very long tine, if ever.
No one I know of could have elucidated the various levels of vastness your experiences with death took you through, as you have here through the living, breathing mastery of your words.
I'm not only awestruck by the earnest depth and emotion of your journeys' clarity, but I'm totally gobsmacked by the unique originality and formation of your verses and captivating presentation, and your artwork choice is stellar … completely in harmony with the timbre of your epic poem.

From first to final word you held onto me, and didn't let go … not once!
I am so very thrilled you're here to recount your unforgettable voyage.

Thank you with all my heart for sharing You with Us, My Brother! ⁓ Richard🖌

[Robert Trakofler]

I decided that I had better write this all down before I forgot it! So I scribbled myself little notes when I was in the hospital and the rehab. Some of it came back later after I meditated. Since my experience I started to read about other peoples NDE’s and I was shocked at how different mine was in comparison? The funny thing is it actually happened 3 times to me and each time very little changed… I almost went to a hypnotist to see if he could find anything out I might of forgotten and after a great deal of reflection I realized I could remember it all! LoL all I can say is you are in for a wild trip:)

[Ken e Bujold]

A rollicking free-wheeling romp if there ever was. Stellar snytoxic slither through galaxies of a well woken truly stirred mind. As i whirred along the rolling coaster of your grand piano of a poem I found my urge to see influences wane, just allow to be swept up in the flow. Rereading, later, the tips of the caps to the beats and workers brows, Alan Jack Larry and Charlie all ring out. Truly a fantastic trip the light fandango of a poem Robert

ken

[Robert Trakofler]

Thank you for reading and for your review you picked some of my favorites in it:)

[Arundass TP]

A long interesting poem. Enjoyed reading.

[Robert Trakofler]

thanks I am glad you enjoyed

[Neville]

I will tell you what this is sir Bunny .. it is EPIC .. and in so many ways :)

[Robert Trakofler]

I go back and forth on this one Nev, It is a good reminder for me of what happened, but it is also a painful reminder as well:) I am not saying that I am not grateful to be alive but in so many strange ways I am not sure I have ever stopped being dead I know that sounds strange but I am beginning to understand once you are you can never truly be alive again it's like a part of me is still in that Library

[Neville]

You are not the only one that has said that to me Robert .. Neville

[William Michael Reeves]

That was quite a poem Robert. That's what it is. At times I sensed that surreal feeling somebody gets when suddenly they are surrounded by health care and so deeply involved in their own struggle that everything surrounding them seems detached. Seems like at times a miserable nightmare and at others a dream of what the good projected by those who care for us can be. Your stanza at the end really struck me. Animate is your sway. That the will to live is the most powerful medicine. And then to relish the saved life by writing and sharing such a personally intense experience. Wow! So glad you survived!

[Robert Trakofler]

well, it's not the hitchhiker's guide to death! but it is what I experienced I meditated on my experience intensely I wrote myself notes on what I remembered I almost went to a hypnotist to fill in the gaps but low and behold I began to remember it all:) And truth be told as painful as it was to write it all down and go back into that nightmare I thought I should. this piece never got that many reads and I understand why aside from my usual lackluster writing abilities lol it is a hard subject to read even tho the outcome was a pleasant one the experience of death is a scary subject. I wish I had seen what I have read in other NDE stories the white light the angels the old friends etc but alas this did not happen to me

[William Michael Reeves]

When we write something deeply personal we set the reader up for some discomfort. They don't know what to write same as how to act if it was in person. Tragedy can be as awkward as it is poignant. The important thing is it got written. And shared. I'll take your laugh at your talent as recognition of it. Your talent touches hearts.

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

“I did not know her name,
Nor did I, my own.
and when she spoke,
there were no words
only thoughts”
Dear RBB, I truly have no adequate words of praise for your profoundly described tableaus of your very personal Odyssey through life and death and life again in this brilliant, epic write. I am speechless at the magnificence and spiritual mysticism of all you have gone through my friend. Your language, imagery, stream of consciousness- the terrible pain and beauty you have experienced…a kaleidoscopic, revelatory narrative. And to culminate in a symbolic. pinnacle of joy in a renewed sense of purpose and in holding your new granddaughter on Christmas Eve…true miracles bestowed upon you after an unspeakable struggle. Your spoken voice is balm to my ears always. Your photo is perfect. And so timely for the season of “ReBirth” soon approaching. Thank you for giving me hope dear Robert, so needed, so needed. More than you can know. Thank you for your friendship, your kindness, your presence. Thank you for this masterpiece. I send love, healing energy, and prayers to you. God bless.

[Robert Trakofler]

I am so glad you liked this:) I have a photograph of me holding her that Christmas Eve... Nina is her name I do not believe a poet has been alive nor lives today, that can express that moment adequately... certainly not this one:)

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

Awwww, please post that photo of both you and little Nina if possible…

[emmajoygreen]

Since back, has taken me a few days to find out how things have been for you, Robert. To be honest, was near numb for a day. But before coming here to read and understand, i thought of quite a few plants that seemed ready to fade for this-that reason. Yet with care, time, prayer and more - everything bought them back as have you. Ab das always have, describing the all around, speaking without faltering, saying what you wanted to keep with and around you as a comfort blanket, perhaps.

' am here now… as I was then
Animate is my sway.
Yet my touch is still as ineffectual
as my pen stroke
But not my resolve
nor the intimation
of crave
that brought me back…'

You are quite something, sir!

[Robert Trakofler]

Emma, it is so nice to hear from you:) I often thought about you and all you were doing for those lost souls across the Atlantic and your amazing empathetic heart:) I know you probably heard so many stories of people dying from complications and after affects of Covid and I imagine reading my testament may have been difficult for you with all you have been through. I imagined that was why you disappeared for a while having been so taxed by your work and the need to recharge those emotional batteries:) My recovery has been wonderful I am so lucky If you saw the double-takes from all of the physicians and staff people that witnessed my recovery you would laugh:) I still have my difficulties in the processing arena and I never regained my voice fully and have some physical limitations but overall I'm a walking miracle! and it is nice to get a little miracle in hearing from you too:)

[emmajoygreen]

Am truly. utterly happy to read your wonderfully long message, Robert! Have been told such sad info about you and.. of course, felt hopeless to do or say anything til reading your Need stress that In spite of what you've suffered - suffered you have and in ways probably still hiddenaway - if aware of them - your spirit and strength is, as ever, indomitable Much applause and admiration for that and more, dear friend. :) Now please, take all your meds, do what you, re told, get some early nights, pull up your socks and slowly prepare for Spring and far, far brighter days! All those in favour shout, 'YES!!!' Keep safe.

[emmajoygreen]

21/9.. had an urge to read your wonderful words again and now, done so. I remember the trauma, the lost time you had way past.. but, how in your own dignified courageous way came back and horray.. fought and won. Happy days ahead, dear sir.

[Ken Simm.]

Simply got to say. This is an epic masterpiece. Written in truth by someone who has been where few have been and returned to talk about it. Fewer still have returned and spoken about it with such, wit, beauty, understanding, compassion and yes joy.
I promised you my feelings in a review when I had read it several times. All I can say I am going to have to read this until the end of my life to get all I can out of this superb piece of wisdom and beauty.

[Robert Trakofler]

Thank you Ken:) all I have to do now is think about that feeling of crave and it starts to resonate in me! I don’t know if I will ever be able to articulate it to Justice but I’m sure I will try:) artistic expressors have always had a finger on the sights in the shade or the lines beneath the words the melodies inside the notes in the construction of everything… sensory is what we hold to be truth in our relation with the external when we lose that all that we took to be whole gets turned on it’s head we are but not as we once knew it but that feeling is truly universal it transcends both existences lol I’m rambling now. Thank you for taking the time to read this and for your review

[lightsong]

Those who know You and know what You went through last year will understand that this was written about your experience, about your marvelous visit to the world between worlds. floating like puzzles of a daydream, until we are reaching toward the ending and all come to make sense, did I told You before? her words to You are pure wisdom, divine wisdom, her words to You what gave You back the power, and decided with knowing that your mission here on earth didn't finish yet and You must come back with no fear, no confusion, with more pureness and higher awareness.

[Robert Trakofler]

I am so glad I finished this one you know how long it took me LOL I have this dandy new poem bouncing in my head now and it has nothing to do with death or dying or coming back to life oh wait it does have something to do with death oh well nevermind LOL

[lightsong]

I looooove the bouncing Robert 🥰

[DIVYA]

This rebirth was so magnificent. In the space between there and here, you experienced so many different things in different realms. The sheer imagery is breathtaking here and the way you described she who spoke with no words but only thoughts was just amazing. I also loved the line -- from the Picasso of my frame --- as one is viewing their own frame as a work of art. Its such a beautiful line and so deep. At the end, the message that life is to be so appreciated and loved for all its blessings big and small....Wonderfully written, dear Bunny!

[Robert Trakofler]

Hello Divy:) This was the most difficult write I have ever done. Its was so hard to put all that I experienced into one poem so much so that I ended up writing several LOL but I wanted to encapsulate as best I could all that happened and some of that could only be done by writing in story form. I have a photograph of me holding my latest granddaughter on that Christmas eve it still brings a tear to my eye when i see it:)

[DIVYA]

It is for such blessings that we live!
Dear Bunny, I'm saving this one in my library to keep returning to again and again as I really want to grasp the mystical in it. It's wonderful of you to share what you experienced. I must add here that you were blessed for all the love and compassion in your heart. Your story fills me with gratitude and such hope. God bless you always. 🙏 ❤