One of the problems with still kicking it old school and writing most of my poetry by hand is that when I have a huge project like this (50 poems in the last 33 or so days), my poor roommates cant even sit on the couch without finding bits of paper that say things like “Penelope, Embattled, Requests Aid” or “your heart lies on the road” or “like the fire spreading.” I guess I am thinking of this because of yesterday’s cento, the poem made from bits of other poems. I guess what I really feel like is a kind of bardic Pigpen: as I walk around I let fall a cloud of poems instead of a cloud of dust.
buildingapoem 
What a wonderful image! 😀
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bardic pigpen is so gene!! (genius and genie crumped into one thing!) LOVE that!
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Personally, I would loooove to unexpectedly come upon a scrap of paper that said something like “Penelope, embattled, requests aid.” What a great way to spark the imagination!
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I adore old school. I cannot think straight without a writing implement in my hand.
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Yes, it is easier to write with my hands than with the keyboard. The movement triggers a different thing in the brain.
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