Micro poem – Micro life

Finally,
it’s good
to end
this story;

I shared
far enough
from me,
my agony.

Imagine
I lived
just a little bit
more:

maybe
I could have
changed history
in whole,

leading
a nation
into an agonistic
salvation.

Benyamin Bensalah

19.02.2020

To my bulletproof face

Yes, I am depressed and I wear a smile,
Yes, I show my ugliness after a while,
Yes, I change my tones with everyone,
Yes, I am the ugly one.

Yes, I’ve changed my beliefs time to time,
Yes, I change my poems for a rhyme,
Yes, I’m doubtful and play narcissistic,
Yes, I am not artistic.

Yes, I’m a trash and I keep judging,
Yes, I hate myself and want loving,
Yes, I can’t stop thinking about sex,
Yes, I ruined every of my ex.

Yes, I’m active just because I’m bored,
Yes, I want my ego to be adored,
Yes, I am a mestizo and still racist,
Yes, I am a masochist.

Yes, I am all of these above,
Yes, I merit no sympathy nor love,
Yes, because I’m a hypocrite,
Yes, I am about to quit.

Benyamin Bensalah

19.02.2020

Shikh-spree 129

C’est pour Bingo qui changea ma vie.
Si Dieu le veut je la marie…
Cette sonnette prouvante que je l’écrire,
Dit: je sens plus pur que Shakespeare.


I considered love as a waste of time;
Fearful and flaming tongues of fire,
Possessing it, as if it would be mine,
Raising, feeding it high and higher,
Pouring all the essence of my heart,
My mortal clay as frozen carcass,
Tryna seek for warmth at her hearth,
Dreaming without holdin‘ purpose.
But now! The fire is smooth as water;
It flows jingling as a secret source.
No, Bingo! Drink not it‘s hot! Wait her!
Wait for it in God’s sake and course!
As well, I am waitin’ for you Bingo, just keep it hot;
Wait and let no bliss for Ibliss, but keep it for God.

Benyamin Bensalah

26.04.2016

Attila József : THE INVENTORY IS READY

I trusted only myself from the beginning –
if you have nothing, the cost will be willing
for the man. In no way it will be more
than for the animal that dropped not living anymore.
Even if I was scared, I found my stand-
I was born, I mingled and I did out-stand.
I even paid everyone just as was the measure,
who gave it for free, I accepted with pleasure.
Women, if I was play-toy for any of their flattery:
I believed it really – let them be happy!
I scrubbed ships, pulling buckets as my only tool.
Among smart gentlemen, I played the fool.
I sold spinners, breads and books,
newspapers, poems – whenever what smooths.
Not in a glorious combat, not on a gentle rope,
but I end up in a bed, sometimes I hope.
Either way, now the inventory is ready.
I lived – and even others have died in it already.

Benyamin Bensalah

18.02.2020

Translated from the Hungarian poem of Attila Jozsef, “Kész a leltár” (1936).

It’s not working well

It’s not working well…
My knees fell
To where
I had had a puddle.

It’s not working well…
In that puddle,
My soul should dwell,
But now, there’s a well.

It’s not working well…
In the well –
Deeping  until hell –
There’s no water.

It’s not working well…
From the hell,
Sounds come up to rebel,
Antipersonnel.

It’s not working well…
I’m unwell,
Infidel,
The well is my chapell.

Benyamin Bensalah

09.09.2018

Enraining

I’ve been in an acid rain.
From the start.
Tap-tap, tap-tap.
Every drop falls.
Through my coat.
Through my face.
Into the heart.

I’ve been sitting in a pit.
It rains sadness.
Ha-ha, ha-ha.
Every drop laughes.
Into my ears.
Into my soul.
Through madness.

I’ve been waiting death.
To come.
Tak-tak, tak-tak.
I can’t wait.
In the years.
In the pains.
How long they last.

Benyamin Bensalah

20.11.2016

Cherry

Once, I had a cherry tree-
It cherished with sour and sweet fruits to me.

Its taste, its odor are still with me –
Its red colour enlivens me.

You see, now, why I’m a lover –
Of the cherry soap, under the shower.

You see, now, why I’m a smoker –
Of cherry cigar while I was an anti-smoker.

I’d cherish a fresh cherry breath for my last words said,
I would cherish a cherry pillow and bed when I am dead.

Benyamin Bensalah

29.06.2018