It does not use Face ID.
You just hold it to your breast to activate.
It has no chip, no apps, no Bluetooth.
It stays fully charged by the rhythm of your movements like a good watch.
When you gaze on the display it pulses warm color and purrs.
It is the perfect reflection,
the embodiment
of this perfect Self.
It fits in your palm like a lotus blossom, like a butterfly.
It needs no case, it’s made of mycelium.
It is more of an affirmation than it is a power-sucking leech.
A window to the soul for you, and you only.
It makes no chimes or chirps, it makes no demands.
It is the God by your bedside, an infinity mirror…
In which I lean and loafe at my ease,
In which I celebrate myself
Through my merry tweets and treasured tales:
The sound of the belched words of my voice, words loosed to the eddies of the wind,
saved somewhere in the cloud.
A few light taps…a few embraces…a reaching around of arms,
The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hillsides,
It is only with you now
Walt Whitman phone
that I am truly satisfied.
Bill Pearse 
I want one!!
Whatever inspired this piece, bravo! Especially “belched words of my voice, words loosed to the eddies of the wind, saved somewhere in the cloud”
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That line is Walt’s Jazz, but thanks. I wove some of his in and poked fun, which I tell you, the more you read from him the more I at least want to poke fun. Happy Friday! Thanks for reading.
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Whitman’s gut would’ve done more than belch if he’d had premonitions of the current “command” of “smart”phones …
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I know! I was playing with that premise, what would Walt say and do if he had a blog. Kind of went some different directions, but a fun diversion through the wheat grass fields
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YAWP! This is great, Multitudes of good stuff to celebrate!
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You yawped it with your maul Robert! Happy Friday!
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First, I’m sad to admit I needed to google “mycelium”.
Anyway, I think the Walt Whitman phone sounds a lot like a cat. I approve this design!
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Don’t be sad Carl! That’s a new word for me too. And a whole world of wonder if you choose to “go down there.” Thanks for reading and glad you approve the design, heh heh.
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It would be cliche to say it contains multitudes or that it is powered by the body electric, but this is truly a sweet Whitman’s Sampler.
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You’re too funny! I thought this might be up your alley Christopher, glad you were able to check it out. We are all paradoxes ourselves for sure.
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A song for me to rise from bed
and meet the sun.
With apologies to WW and thanks to BP.
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Yes, apologies big time. Though I can’t imagine he’d hold a grudge. More likely a shrub
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I’ve never read Whitman, but he has surely inspired your poetic side.
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I’m such a dick but you’ve known that for a while now Dave. I come by it naturally I guess.
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Non sequitur?
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Ha ha yes sir!
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