Cat-loife

Meow, it’s the new me now –
I’ll see – oh – you’ll see the new me now.
Don’t ask how, there’s no how-how,
But I’ll meow you my new tao:

Every day, there’s a new meowning,
I meow, making sure that it won’t be boring.
I uncurl myself and wash my whiskers,
Purring my soul with good whispers:

I’m so happy in this meowning,
Walking gently, and my fur is warming.
I’ll face the jungle with a tiger’s roar,
No one dares to ask what are my stripes for:

I bounce into the day like I am,
Proudly-loudly purring like a lion.
My mane is mine and the mane I am,
Being meowsome is my main domain:

I’m mild and kind like a kitten,
Even if it’s most of the time hidden.
Because I mind my own matter,
Avoiding the needless chatter:

I’m meowing since the meowning,
Just to break the ice of being boring.
If the boredom is still in my way,
I just gently paw away:

There’s no better escaper,
And there’s no fair enough keeper.
But, some warm holding hands
May fulfill my purre demands:

Rest and peace my life’s about,
If your place is not alike, rather let me out.
I’m faithed to live like a cat,
A natural aristocrat:

Tao is the only law with fun,
I roflmao all over where there’s sun.
Living all my nine lives in a row,
I’ve a cat-life, meow.

Benyamin Bensalah

11.02.2019

Attila József: THE SEVENTH

In this world if you are hitting a camp,
seven times your mother shall give birth in cramp!
Once, be born inside a house burning,
once in an icy flood whirling,
once in a mental asylum fooling,
once in beautiful wheat swinging,
once in a monastery hollow-sounding,
once among pigs in the pigpen.
The six cries up, but what will be with you?
The seventh shall be you!

Enemy, if he comes before you,
shall find seven of you.
One who starts his day out of duty,
one who does his service orderly,
one who educates his nation freely,
one who was thrown into water to swim,
one who’s the seed of a forest coming,
one whose ancestors were defending him,
all tricks and guns are not enough, tho,

the seventh shall be you!

If you’d sweetheart a lover,
there shall be seven after her.
One who gives a heart for his word,
one who pays for his own hazard,
one who plays star-gazing,
one who’s in the skirt searching,
one who knows where’s the staple,
one who steps on the scarf with trample –
buzzing her like flies on a meat that’s blue!

The seventh shall be you.

If you’d poetize and there’s token,
there shall be seven writing that poem.
One who makes a village from marble,
one who was born in slumber,
one who measures the sky and nods unbothered,
one who is called on his name by the word,
one who strikes his soul,
one who autopsies a living rat in a bowl.
Scientists four, and warriors two,

the seventh shall be you.

And if all was as it was written,
as seven men, you shall be in a grave hidden.
One who’s cradled by a milky breast,
one who’s grabbing after a lusty breast,
one who throws away an empty bowl,
one who helps to win the poor,
one who works dropping soon,
one who just looks at the Moon:
Living under the world’s tomb!

The seventh shall be you.

Benyamin Bensalah

18.01.2020

Translated from the Hungarian poem, “A hetedik” (1932) by Attila József.

The heartless regime

Once upon a time, there’s been,
In the animal world;
A heartless king, named Lionard,
Who must own all last words.

King Lionard – king of the forest,
Was well-well known woodwide;
From his strong determinations,
No animal could hide.

Be the snake under the bushes,
Be the dog on the yard;
Be any animal near the forest,
None could ‘scape Lionard.

           ***

B’ing rather fear’d than respected:
His words couldn’t be muted;
Woe is the poor one failing them,
For b’ing executed.

King Lionard had no mercy,
It was ever well-known;
Woe is the poor underling – who,
For last, might see his crown.

In a clumsy day, it happened:
Lord Wulf was called to see;
“I am starving, bring me to eat,
Or else, I will eat thee.”

           ***

Wulf – the Lord Chancellor was mad,
Madly running for a loan;
Tho, the council had one counsel:
“Thou are on thy own.”

Wulf in despair combed the forest,
If he could find a prey;
That time, he met Oxie – the bull,
Wulf aimed him with a pray:

“Oh, Oxie! You look dead uneased,
But I have solution;
Yor weight may kill you today -but,
I have magic potion.”

           ***

Oxie – the bull, followed Wulf’s lead,
“My friend may melt your lard!”
From a wood to a wood, walking,
Till they faced Lionard!

The famished king jumped up quickly,
Making escape the bull;
“Oh, king! Why you’ve done that?” Said Wulf,
Running after the bull.

Wulf reached Oxie, praying again:
“Stop! You’ll miss yor massage!”
“Wasn’t he to kill me?” asked the bull,
“Nah! You’ll see it’s massage!”

           ***

King Lionard devoured the half,
Then, said: “I need to drink-
You will be surveying my meat.”
Then, left him a blink.

Wulf – b’ing hungry itself – must move:
After a quick looking,
He ate up the heart of the bull,
When arrived the fooled king:

“You ate my part, the heart! You’ll die!”
Scream’d the king. “No, Highness! –
In fact that the bull came back, No!
No! It must be heartless!”

Benyamin Bensalah

28.09.2017

Intellectual Disorder

How many times I wished to be dumb and dull
As some sort of donkey;
Eating my favorite hay-made cereals,
Wearing my favorite kind of donkey pantaloon and jacket,
And saying “Heyyya!” to people all of my like.

Simple minds dress the world in sugarcoats
With simple likes and simple hates;
Only a simple-minded person can enjoy
Things that are foolish, immoral and fits no
Functional reasons except of socialness.

This is a natural behavior among beings
To look for each other and harness the environment;
I’ve never been judging on this
As I said, it’s rather an envy
For being simple, but sad and happy.

When you start harnessing the mind
Instead of the surrounding space and time,
You will see that space and time are not real;
They are relative as your importance
In this world.

Your eyes will stop seeing and start understanding
Causes and Effects, Chain-reactions, Patterns;
Your life will be just a pattern in the absurd
That knows no sad or happy observation,
You will only see a disorder.

Benyamin Bensalah

16.01.2020

The Ogre

There’s no example like him, Oh God –
A pious monster who worships his own path.
How could I forget the lessons he gave me
By scaring me off to be like him: an ogre in a cave.

Once I was reading the holy book in peace –
While his hideous mind sees, sees and sees me.
Then, that rolling head exploded in a shout:
GO, WORK FOR ME! WHATCHA READIN ABOUT??

Next day, after work, I was having a rest –
He looked at me, to East, to me to me and West
With eyes that radiate in: “Soon, son…
You’ll have your final rest”.

Once, he can pass by such heresy
To having rest like him, in total serenity,
But once, not twice! Oh God,
The day after he sent me to rewipe the pots.

There were invisible spots on them,
Good for him, he sees what human eyes can’t.
He was saying he could do it meanwhile;
But he’s doing nothing now, nor in a while.

He says he did everything before –
An Ogre that knows every, every, every lore,
Even those that time hasn’t heard before
The Incredible Ogre shall play in that a role.

The role of a commander or an evil sergeant
Giving orders, being at ease or urgent,
To defend the Ogre kingdom’s or his peace;
Sending the others away, been at ease.

The kindom is full of trash, thrown by him,
But he has servants working for him;
“HERE’S A BOTTLE, HERE’S A BOXER!” – he throws,
“HAHAHA, ON YOUR HEAD A SCORE!”

Ogre, Ogre who’s my “dad”,
Autocorrect’s not alone wishing him “dead”-
Cuz just from writing “he’s a real father”,
My white one becomes a purely blackened feather.

Overloud voice, overload fat ass,
His agressive speech is purely heartless, merciless.
He is eating hope, happiness and desire,
I won’t feed the Ogre more, I put down my lyre.

Benyamin Bensalah

30.05.2018