The Book of 1000 Poems: Volumes 1–4

By Conshinz

The more crazy I seem right now, the less crazy I'll seem later.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Dec 12, 2019
• ISBN: 9781645368137

Conshinz

Conshinz is a poet who is Canadian. He is half Irish, half German/Ukrainian. A father, a husband, a friend, and a foe. His mental illness? It makes him explode.

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Debateless

About the Author

Conshinz is a poet who is Canadian.

He is half Irish, half German/Ukrainian.

A father, a husband, a friend, and a foe.

His mental illness? It makes him explode.

Dedication

To my wife, son, and also

to all those affected by mental illness.

Copyright Information ©

Conshinz (2019)

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

Ordering Information:

Quantity sales: special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.

Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data

Conshinz

The Book of 1000 Poems: Volumes 1–4

ISBN 9781643785448 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781643785455 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781645368137 (ePub e-book)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019918371

www.austinmacauley.com/us

First Published (2019)

Austin Macauley Publishers LLC

40 Wall Street, 28th Floor

New York, NY 10005

USA

[e-mail]

[phone]

Acknowledgment

This book of poetry was written during a time in my life when my mental illness was undiagnosed, untreated, and fully taking over my life.

After sustaining a traumatic brain injury as a teenager, I developed PTSD. The ongoing stress eventually led to me developing Major Depressive Disorder with Mixed Features and a Cluster B Personality Disorder. I treat my condition currently with schizophrenia medication.

This collection of poetry was written during the most difficult time in my life, besides a horrific car crash in 1998 when I broke many bones and spent time in a coma.

Mania and extreme depression helped make this book very unique but also made it very hard to understand. As you read further into the book, you will notice a progression of madness that occurred in me.

As you read along, please remember that this book is a portal into the mind of someone who was very sick with untreated and undiagnosed mental illness.

I would like to thank the team of doctors and friends that helped keep me alive long enough to see this book get published.

Now that I am diagnosed and medicated, my life is very positive and clarity has been achieved. I finally have real comfort. It can happen if you stay honest with yourself and look deep within.

If you are suffering from depression or mania, please see a medical professional immediately or call a counseling service.

Thanks for buying this book and supporting someone who struggles with mental illness.

Volume 1

Awkward Silence

Does the person next to you know the shit

You say about them when they’re not with you?

Think about what you hate about them right now…

You’re right, I’d hate that too.

Catharsis

This is my Catharsis.

I’m sick of being psychologically shifted into

The shimmering shadows, the gallows of the hollow.

Wheelbarrow of sorrows

I’m a Martian.

Deal with it.

Guilty Conscience

Think about it.

You’re guilty.

You know what I’m talking about.

You’re the one who actually did that.

Think about it.

I know.

What would you do if I told them the truth?

You caused pain.

You’re guilty.

Fuck It, Fuck It Hard

Fuck it, disarm your fences and

Relentlessly penetrate the skeletons

Deeply residing inside your darkest and

Most mysterious closets by being honest

With yourself and ridding yourself of

Protective and unnecessary caution. Fuck it.

I’m imperfect. Fuck being perfect. Consider

These words another weird service of mine

To remind you to only be who exactly YOU

Are assigned to. Stop being so fucking

Courteous. Think of yourself! I’m so fuckin’

Serious. Fuck it! Worrying about how you

Look like a perforated paper-lid

Trying to fit in with a sea of dumb cups

Made of non-biodegradable plastic.

Just say fuck it.

Ever since I did my life’s been fantastic.

Cat Murphy

His sorrow was hanging off him like an old

Pair of pants with his sadness as black

Hearts tattooed on the tops of both hands.

Murphy’s not shallow, he’s Mariana Trench.

He can’t seem to scrub off that familiar

Old stench.

Lawless.

Unpredictable.

Murphy’s all that.

Violent when outside but when at home

He lays down and snuggles his sweet little cats.

The Well Falling

Fell in the well where people

Toss their loose coins.

I dropped a penny down on

My way inside the deep.

There was a shadow of a doubt.

I decided to allow the demons inside.

Emergency services scurried

And were nervous as they

Maneuvered a rope dangling

Down into the darkest

Depths of the well.

When I saw the rope fall

I just gave it a firm tug to

Let them all know that I

Felt right at home.

Insane Magic

The magician does some miraculous tricks.

Tricks not like you know to exist.

She’s rumored to be a self-righteous prick.

But her act’s sure unique and her magic’s so sick.

We welcomed her crazy-ass shit.

With two cracks of her thumbs and a "Hey

Where y’all from?" her fire was secretly lit.

Onlookers bedazzled and frequently

Frazzled with the mysteries that their ticket gets.

She decapitates bunnies but their

Bodies keep running and she rips off their

Limbs without any blood running, all this

Whilst rumbling inside a hot pink corvette.

Poli-Crack

Old bitch. Sneaky witch.

He kept me from becoming a wizard.

That dicksmack’s Poli-Crack

Kept me from achieving my dreams.

Window Man

See me as a window.

Look right through me at

The seagulls with your pintos.

Images through me are clearly

Simple and the scenes that you

See will deepen your dimples.

So clear, in fact, you can

Observe my imperfections.

My clarity makes my

Insides easily inspected.

I’m fragile and true and my goal

Is never to skew your worldview.

It’s nice outside.

Look through me and

Open-shut your eyes wide.

The Metal Worker

Clear past that bend a metal worker works.

It melts as it forms upon thy sacred turf.

Curses with sweat to earn the paycheck.

Big fishing nets wait for that leisurely catch.

Seconds pass decades and wrinkles get deeper.

Much less so often words spin the receiver.

A family is dead and a culture got lost.

The metal worker’s life, short was the cost.

Quiet Like Mice

A long time ago I told myself twice

Keep your mouth shut and be quiet like mice.

Being too nice makes room for contempt.

Our body gets dented, shattered, and bent.

With a tent in the woods and a stone fire hot.

Alone cooking a trout in my trusted old pot.

I thought to myself, These trees sure are nice.

They’re stoic and brave and quiet like mice.

Old Tattered Rag

An old tattered rag draped a woman in fear.

She felt it in all places, it defined her career.

Revolutionary visions could’ve been viewed

If the world not abused by cowardly coos.

A beard and a dick took over the whole lot.

The voice of our