Asylums

By Ted Volcin and Bernadine Rais

Once upon a time we put

The mad at the end of the village

We enchained them

Like wild beasts

And beat them to death …

Once upon a time

We built the Asylums

And surrounded them with

Tall walls

Bighting wire

And isolation

Ted Volcin’s poetry has always explored his inner life and feelings as he attempted to immerse himself in the struggles of those around him.

In a debut collection of thoughtful poems, Volcin shares a profound, philosophical meditation about the meaning of madness across humanity and life itself while shining a light on the brutality surrounding the centuries-long isolation of mentally ill people from the rest of society. His poems offer a raw, candid look into life inside mental institutions where its occupants must endure unthinkable torture while precariously hanging on the edge of human darkness.

Asylums is a volume of poetry that provides a lyrical glimpse into the lives of hundreds of the anonymous forgotten, neglected, and forsaken asylum heroes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Sep 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665711265

Ted Volcin

Ted Volcin wrote and translated poetry during the years in different literary journals and anthologies. He is fluent in several languages and worked as a healer for people who are compelled to confront with mental health problems. This is his second volume of poetry. He lives in the state of Ohio with his wife and two daughters. 

Book preview

Asylums

Ted Volcin

Illustrations by: Bernadine Rais

Copyright © 2021 Ted Volcin.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Archway Publishing

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

844-669-3957

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Interior Image Credit: Bernadine Rais

ISBN: 978-1-6657-1125-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-1126-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021917204

Archway Publishing rev. date: 09/08/2021

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Asylums

I decided to give this book’s poems no titles but numbers because during my research through the Asylums History I discovered that in some Asylums’ cemeteries throughout US the deceased patients were buried with a small grave marker that many times had no name but just a number on it.

1.

Once upon a time

We used to bleed the

Insane

There is something strange

In our desire to control

Threats

To control imaginary plots of

Destruction

To imagine danger

To look outside and

Fear the earthquakes

Once upon a time

We used to eat each other

To gain strength

To grow in power

We used to kill in the name of

The best intentions

Once upon a time we put

The mad at the end of the village

We enchained them

Like wild beasts

And beat them to death

Only madness of leaders

Can be tolerated

Worshiped

Like a subconscious identity

Of the group

Once upon a time

We built the Asylums

And surrounded them with

Tall walls

Bighting wire

And isolation

Made of red brick

Or grey stone

Greek columns

Castles of loneliness

In the middle of ourselves

We built Asylums and Monasteries

Walls of veneration or difference

Transparent veils of tears

Transparent veils of words.

2.

Brick walls and fenced

Porches

Large halls where no one

Looks any where

Clean nurses locked in

Clean rooms

Superintendents reading

The Divine Comedy behind

Closed doors

Sigmund Freud reflecting

In a corner of the main lobby

Quietly smoking his cigar

His look frozen by