Pantoum of Love

If there’s any reason in life,
It’s the must to fill the heart;
Because there’s no worse damnation
Than living hollow-hearted.

It’s the must to fill the heart;
The pain that’s like dancing knives
Echoing wall to wall
In the heart without any reason.

The pain is like dancing knives
Urging for sedation
To pour meaning into the empty glass
That’s mortified of thirst.

Urging for sedation,
Even the least image is a seducer
For hope to enliven an organ
That’s pumping life into us.

Even the least image is a seducer,
A mere-mirror that shows us
We are still worthy to beloved
In our silent existence.

A mere-mirror that shows us
We are human beings,
Not just lost thoughts
In an organic carcass.

We are human beings,
Needing love just as a reason
To prove that in this world
We are not alone.

If there’s any reason in life, it’s the must to fill the heart;
To prove that, in this world, we are not alone.

Benyamin Bensalah

09.02.2020

Pantoum of the Non-living

I’ve been waiting my own end
While others were waiting for living;
Dipping in all the happiness
That I could not afford.

While others were waiting for living,
I’ve been counting my last minutes;
Promising peace in every second
That pushed me out of life.

I’ve been counting my last minutes
While guessing which organ dies first;
Whether the head, heart or lungs
That has firstly mercy on me.

While guessing which organ dies first,
Others guessed about soccer matches;
Whether the red with blue or black stripes
That wins their thousandth game.

Others guessed about soccer matches
While I’ve been looking for meaning;
Whether there was or I was missing
That pushed others for living.

While I’ve been looking for meaning,
Others loved, laughed and cried;
Being genuinely the creature
That they meant to be.

Others loved, laughed and cried
While I kept observing and writing;
Having no sense in life, I wonder
That I am a human.

I’ve been waiting my own end while others were waiting for living;
Having no sense in life, I wonder that I am a human.

Benyamin Bensalah

18.11.2019

Pantoum of the Antihero

Gets no love the one who doesn’t love.
It’s not Karma, but simple logic.
Even if he does, it’s a sort of odds,
Making the canon candid.

It’s not Karma, but simple logic;
The misanthrope is alone –
Who doesn’t like water, will suffocate in,
Who doesn’t like life, will be perishing in.

The misanthrope is alone.
This is all a matter of nature-
One may hide in a mass like serpent,
Still being poisonous, threatening.

This is all a matter of nature;
The old song of yin and yang-
Darkness isn’t overthrown by brightness,
But they fulfill the scheme of destiny.

The old song of yin and yang-
The side uncursed by goodness
Is the side blessed with senselessness,
Extreme plainness and severity.

The side uncursed by goodness
Fulfills the dark side of the bright –
Without looking for doing the right
Since it’s all self-implemented.

Fulfilling the dark side of the bright,
Giving chance for the light,
And bearing all the dark of the moon,
He may be a hero, the antigone.

Giving chance for the light,
Getting no love while another does,
We – people – serve perfect bad examples
For there’s no hero without Antihero.

Getting no love while another does,
Even if getting that’s out of odds;
Darkness isn’t overthrown by brightness,
But each fulfills a scheme in destiny.

We’ve been and we’ll be gone even as antigone.

Benyamin Bensalah

20.10.2017