Madrigal
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Too cute!
When I read the names of the first two, I was really hoping one would be named catatonia :P. But I guess catatonic will do XD.
Maddy
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I think it's a trilateral of some sort. Or maybe a pyramid. Which may seem kind of strange, seeing as this sort of reads like an irreverent eulogy. :P But it's so amorphic, it's hard to pin it down to a eulogy where the first stanza singles out a type of people, or a sex, but mostly a specific person of that sex. And the second seems to . . . I don't know . . . I don't know it's like you're talking to your mom. The third stanza . . . "Fret not, for [these] ... are nothing but images of remorse and stiffness in flesh-bound specters." Yeah, it was edited. But this sentence is so spiritual. The last part, "it is nothing but the absence of spirituality" makes me think about the pyramid idea again, and makes me wonder if you meant something deep, spiritually. Like, life outside the body is spiritual, timeless. But the body makes us forget that. We're entombed in our past, and subject to vice and ego. That may be the spiritual idea. I don't think this is a eulogy, though.
Actually, I must confess to you that I never plan anything in my poetry. I've only ever written one eulogy, and it was a eulogy to the unknown (which is the exact title of the poem). Though most of the time my writing ends up rhyming, it has nothing to do with it being a decision I make; it just happens to be that way.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, you're giving me too much credit for writing this XD. I often write poetry to relieve myself of certain feelings, and I do it quick as I have very little time in my day (I'm writing this in my 'math hw break').
This did feel very spiritual, and it felt right enough that I didn't edit nor hesitate to put it up at The Hub, and now at AD. I guess I'm not your conventional poet. At the time I wrote this I felt uneasy.
Something during the day had made me feel this way, and the feeling made me think of schizophrenia. Catatonia and schizophrenia are linked, not exclusively, but linked anyway. I've never suffered either, but it was the only way to express how frustrated and paranoid I felt at the moment. I was angry-- mortified, to be exact-- and so came the first stanza.
I was angry at my father for favoring my sister.
"Not quite sisters...
Why must you follow through with your endless promises?
Invisibility, inflexibility, severity; did you nothing in healthy mind and body?s natural ability?"
I have never been favored by my father. I guess I'm asking the questions I dare not ask him in person. There is something about feeling invisible to those you love that just eats at your insides.
And then I accuse him of being senile. Ha.
That's the jist of it. I didn't think I'd have to explain it, but your interpretation almost convinced me otherwise and so I had to restate it. I'm fairly gullible, especially when confronted by logic :P.
Maddy
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I thought it was wonderful, mainly because I like the way it sounds in my head. Best reason I can give. I seem to have missed the poetry gene as most of the time I just don?t ?get? poems. I think my brain functions just a little too literally most times and whatever imagery poems are supposed to evoke escapes me. But for some reason, Maddy, I always enjoy yours. They seem a bit edgy and?odd. But I like edgy and odd. That I can understand.
And it?s not a tree. Anyone with decent vision can clearly see it?s a spaceship.
Sharon
Your comment is just in time for me to get unbored in my Chem lecture.
Thanks, Sharon. Methinks we are very much alike: edgy and odd. But in a good way. I like edgy, I like odd, and so I am those things; when I write anything, it becomes apparent. And also, for some reason, there are some days when I feel like using 'methinks' in sentences where it looks completely off. :P
Maddy
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I happen to disagree with most previous posters, as, I must confess, I loved this story.
First of all, to denounce any bias against my being an english learner, I will say that I consider myself fluent (moreso than most 'mother-tongue' recipients). I would also like to say that, in my native language, writing in second person is an art seldom mastered by aspiring authors, but when promptly done it causes immediate admiration. It is mostly, though not exclusively, used in poetry. You can call me biased. I'll think of myself as cultured :P.
For the sole sake of contradicting and making it obvious that I disagree, I will say that I do believe this short story has a plot, and a somewhat ambiguous main character (which I believe is one of the [un]intended purposes of this narration style). I believe it is excellently written, and not once did I think of the style, nor the author's intentions, as arrogant, nor conspicuous.
This story is different, and I, for one, cherish that which stands out from the crowd, however daunting it might seem.
Maddy
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The fact that it looks like a tree is neither here nor there - though it's easier to get to grips with without its ... erm ... treeness
And I think it is elegiac - as in expressing sorrow often for something past. I've no idea about its length or meter.
furthermore, I'm still pondering it!
Camy
Methinks I was thinking the other elegiac when I read your comment haha. Damn those English classes.
Maddy
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It's a tree!
Actually it seems very elegiac, but as your poetry takes time to know, I'm not entirely sure.
I'm also not sure that the visual aspect helps.
Camy
Ha! It does look like a tree :P.
As to whether it is elegiac or not, I can tell you it is not. I just wrote it to please myself, and I can't please myself while trying to make it fit a certain length and meter.
Would it look better if I got rid of the "center" command?
Maddy
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Codey and Tim,
I've never had to chance to speak to either of you, but just know that you are in my prayers.
Let's hope for the best, and never lose hope.
Maddy
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Happy B-Day! 
Maddy
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Senseless logic, definitions and such
Catatonia
Not quite sisters,
Byproducts of senseless insults,
Rapes, disorderly conducts and running blisters.
Why must you follow through with your endless promises?
The daughter of inertia and violated disorders, borne child of schizophrenia;
Rigid stances are your poses, ungrateful looks followed in sequence by polar glances.
Invisibility, inflexibility, severity; did you nothing in healthy mind and body?s natural ability?
Fret not, for this endless clatter, battering stones in amorphic grounds, useless but for a fleeting mind,
Are nothing but images of remorse and stiffness in flesh-bound specters, it is nothing but the absence of spirituality.
Comments, anyone?
Maddy
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I second that. And another bird (much smaller than an emu) told me that there's a story by Camy there to enjoy.
;)
Maddy
Happy B-Day! 
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what is the most interesting/complimentary/satisfying comment you have received
in The Raccoon's Den
Posted
*giggle*
Well, recently, various people told me that one of my stories "though excellently written, made [them] nauseous."
I took it as a compliment, of course, as the theme of the story was horror.
But I guess the best compliment I've ever gotten would be that I 'wrote better than Allan Poe". Of course, this was from the author of the above quote, and it might have been to support their argument that I almost made them puke. Haha.
I guess it's a double edged sword (bite me, I know I'm not using the term correctly). While I did feel proud, it made me a bit conscious about my own style; here I was, thinking I was so original and then somebody (though their intention was absolutely pristine) points out the obvious. But I guess that's the nature of horror stories. People don't get scared by many things nowadays.
Maddy