Writer’s Tools

A Writer’s Tools have changed
There has been so much gain
But a nagging hint of nostalgia remains

Cutting reeds and shaping quills
Pounded pigments, rainwater, ash-filled
Stretching animal hides
Leaving in the sun to dry

Crackling scratches on dried parchment

One slip, the writer’s lament

Start again, know not when

The price of dripping Indigo ink

Naught drying, naught sprinkling with sand

Naught scribing, brings one to the brink

… Of insanity

New files, pixels, point sizes, layout

A better system, no doubt

Save, Open, Save As, Download

Copy without a camera or a copier reload

Cut without a knife; paste with no glue

The decision to see it through

Or delete and try again

It doesn’t matter when

Save or not to save?

In a hurry, Save and and go away…try another day

Creativity has not changed

Only the functions of the brain

More freedom for the laymen

More chances to begin again

Then, finally, the perfect words you trust

All gobbled up by a cyber virus.

No heart to try again

Perhaps a quill, ink, or pen?

Mayhaps…

Once upon a dark, dreary night, chaos reigned in the sky. I took up my quill as the thunder roared and the lightning blinded my eyes…

Comparisons of the old and the new, pros and cons…