Three Thousand Years before Apple and Three Thousand Years after the iPad

I carry in my knapsack poems by
The ancient Greeks, the eldest ones, the best,
The best of elders. They are still as spry
As dolphins’ arcs beside Argosy’s quest.
Lines wait within the safety of the book,
Alive and lively now as ever, like
A resurrection plant. They undertook
Divinity when quilling down each spike
Of brilliance in their lines. But crammed in with
That poetry I carry modern things,
Phone chargers and an iPad. There’s no myth
To go with them. They don’t have singing wings.
_No: iPads, gone millennia from now,
__Will be nothing. They aren’t The Golden Bough.


Phillip Whidden is a poet published in America, England, Scotland (and elsewhere) in book form, online, and in journals.  He has also had an article on Wilfred Owen’s “Dulce et Decorum est” published in The New Edinburgh Review.

Views expressed by individual poets and writers on this website and by commenters do not represent the views of the entire Society. The comments section on regular posts is meant to be a place for civil and fruitful discussion. Pseudonyms are discouraged. The individual poet or writer featured in a post has the ability to remove any or all comments by emailing submissions@ with the details and under the subject title “Remove Comment.”

One Response

  1. David Watt

    Indeed, iPads and the like will come and go. Poems by the ancient Greeks have long since passed the test of time. You have expressed this truth very well.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.