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Catatonia


Madrigal

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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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It's a tree! :cat:

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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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

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 :cat:

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

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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 :cat:

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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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

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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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Guest Rustic Monk

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.

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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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