Madeline

Of summer psalms and saintly sights
Of morning's breeze and summer's night
Bright like the smile of a healthy child
And in her gentle way she smiled,
"You and your Madeline"

The autumn shore of distant climbs
Smelling faintly of fresh cut limes
And in her brightness she felt grim
Does it matter, "Me or him?
Me and my Madeline"

And keeping two to beat in time
Came in Madeline with her rhyme
"Unto all the world hath known
Warm us all from our shivered bone"
Cried my Madeline

And on the winter's night she died
Unto her I felt I lied
And shouted stories of forgotten lore
And sailing back to spring time's shore
Just me and my Madeline

And winter froze my warm soul
And we gently burned her with sacred coal
She burned bright like love of a child
And in my grief I gently smiled
For me and my Madeline

Copyright © Amish Trivedi 2004

I Would Run So Many Miles

I would run so many miles
If it meant to be near to you
I would scale the mountains of the moon
If I could drink from the cup you do

But what would you do for me?
Set aside an hour for a kiss?
What if WWIII broke out?
Is there anything of me you'd miss?

You're moving faster than that
And I am following on my rope
Cut the cord and let me go
For me now there is no hope

Drag me like a dog behind
Tied to your car and forgotten
Let me run a mile or so
Before dying; you'll love again

I tried to do what I felt so deep
But nothing is good enough for you
So goodnight my dear, please sleep well
For to you I bid adieu

Copyright © Amish Trivedi 2004

Why Should Anything Work?

One day we shall all die
Cars will be stripped down bare
Don't comb because you're losing your hair
And every politician tells a lie

Every sun shall soon burn out
And darkness must someday fade
Every ride stops though you paid
And roosters will no longer shout

Grasses green will die in heat
And rain drops will wash away
There's an ending to every play
And a dead end for every street

Phones will be smashed for parts
And wood will rot into the soil
Nothing will last except the toil
Not even the hope in our hearts

Guns will one day cease to fire
And TV shows will end their run
Don't fear the barrel of a gun
Your drugs can't make you higher

People will die in endless brigades
And smoke shops will burn their last
We'll all be living in the past
As soon as future light fades

You will wake from every dream
And your parents will leave you soon
The light will fade from the moon
And no one will hear you scream

Copyright © Amish Trivedi 2004

Strewn on the Fields

History is hard. It's hard knowing who you are.—Ichiro Miyata

And there they stand
And dance in time
To the Kroopan beat
And sugar-coated rhyme

And indeed there has been time
For the yellow fogs of night to climb
But wandered are the deserted streets
Muttering for the forces' retreats
Knowing where you are, the field's are black
Cutting through the Congo on a slither snake back
Watching friends' face down in 9th hole sand trap
Watered furiously from urban springs
Greener than He intended it to be
And so the children play in dry fields
Reminding the vagrant
Muttering sir yes sirs to no one at all
And watching the children play and fall
And he's blown by the dry desert air
And his M-16 in hand makes it fair

And how he has known it already
Known it all
The death that men give to one another
As presents left under tinsel and ornamented trees
He knows that only death frees
But not for those who survive
Oh, feel alive

But he knows nothing anymore
Nothing at all
Dreaming of the time he was shivering in his bed
When he still had a home
Remembering how poor Joe bled
And those children he must now save
As the desert air blows over the Afghan cave
And he takes his weapon and aims
And in a flash
The shots of the water gun
Add to the urban children's fun

Copyright © Amish Trivedi 2004