An Empty Class

In the morning, in that mass,
Messy transportation and the stress
Follow the students’ hurry steps,
Only to know how to write: Nevertheless.

Nevertheless, nevertheless,
The only same words here to suppress,
Repeated and reputeless
Create a chaos of boredomness.

I’m a student – nevertheless,
I am learning now less and less,
But still – oh still, nevertheless,
I miss the chance to scape, to regress.

My expresso that I really miss;
With its lack, my mind is just a deep abyss,
Missing parts of this least lesson:
What’s the point of nevertheless we’re stuck on.

Running in the morning mass,
Putting on this hurry-fashioned messy dress
Oh – oh no, these wasted losses address,
And only address NEVERTHELESS.

Benyamin Bensalah

02.12.2018

A foolish guy

Once I saw a foolish guy.
He was laughing up the sky,
Walking on a crowded street,
Dodging with a funny gait.

He was not giving a single damn,
Smiling, winking to every men,
Waving cheerfully with his hand,
Brighting as a burning brand.

What’s the wrong with this guy?
Saying everybody “hi!”?
Which drugs he was charmed by?
Why does he make me spy?

Others also might spot the lad,
Blushing into blaming red,
He worried not what face they had,
Just joyfully laughing at.

He flourished the street into bright,
Aside from the people’s fright,
I myself was by the fact surprised,
I myself approved and smiled.

Leaving norms, I forgot to be sad,
With a wide smile on my head,
Having the same look as he had,
People similarly saw me mad.

Sorry to say that the guy has gone,
I never forget what he’s done,
He taught me how to laugh for fun,
Sentencing myself into a pun.

14.02.2016

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

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

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