“You cannot see it till you cannot say it with beauty?”

Because we are illiterate.

Was it the bait?


Everything is love and death

Words must hit as dazzling meth

With a structure that stands 9-11

Carrying a scent of Heaven

From all those Rue and Lilies

From the garden of Great Achilles

Mention a great hero of a nation

With all the fancy connotation

With pictures more vivid than LSD

Rhymes on amok killing spree

Jamming music of beep beep beep

Pleasing critics as it’s deep deep deep

Right down on their throat

That’s how they feel somebody wrote

That’s how you are recognized as artist

Then who cares what your art is…

…about, all those hows and whys

Who cares a homo-sapien cries or dies…

When it’s fitting the current chique

You and your work are both sick.

Benyamin Bensalah


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