Hardik Vaidya

Rookie - 431 Points (26 Dec 1969, I won't be dead till you know I am alive. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)

Recycling. - Poem by Hardik Vaidya

A millennia of memories,
Achievements, failures.
Escapades, sexscapdes.
Scandals, love, hate.
A billion over kisses.
Laughter - innocent, coy, midnight, noon, mad.
Office, agriculture, hunting, breeding, texting, sexting.
Settings, fixings, adjustings, bowings, belongings.
Terabytes on terabytes on terabytes of data,
Written, erased, written, erased, written, erased...
Ad infinitum.
It's bound to need an after mint,
There comes a point when there is no choice,
Recycling ends and Nirvana begins.

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

The Hindus from whom I hail, believe in the re incarnation of the soul. Which is recycling of the soul. This idea of infinite recycling gave me the seed to write this poem. Even nature will tire some time and raise her hands up and throw plastic.

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, February 2, 2013

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