The weather is funny

The weather is funny today
As it has been yesterday,
And before.

Teardrops,
Lightsome smileys,
Thunderclaps and silences.

From the snow, flowers rising,
From clouds, sun shining,
Awesome surprises.

The weather is funny;
Whether it’s resin or honey,
Honestly, I’m fond of its nature.

I’m really weatherbeaten, tho
After all I went through,
It’s still funny.

Benyamin Bensalah

19.07.2018

Loco-motivation

Life is a locomotive:
Only passenger you are.
Aren’t you pulled through all the bad?
Haven’t you left behind all what’s said?
You want to get through London without rain?
If you are to learn from life, you have to train.

Life isn’t a local motive:
Human, not a tree you are.
It’s motion, adopt and act; you are apt.
Turn a page and take the stage, opt or adapt.
Lift yourself up; you are not tied but in your brain.
Do you think one is coming to pull you up with a crane?

Life is a LOCO motive:
If you are sane, insane you are.
Who told you that life is to understand?
Act the fool, the king and the queen; it’s your land.
The whole global globe is in your hands to use at ease.
After your time is over, you’ll have no excuse, nor reprise.

Benyamin Bensalah

17.12.2017

Aloha alohomora

To be or not to be – a bee,
day to day just working in a whirlwind
and waiting while getting more weight in;
Is the honey so funny?

Let’s exorcise: no more exercise!
Let’s pull the brake before we break
and declare a pause as if having paws;
Bearing a bear’s power.

It’s the first piece of peace,
to sit up – from the board of boredom
letting your throne and crown be thrown;
Away from the old bad ways.

Don’t stare at the stairs!
Flee step by step in flea-bounces
or rather just fly as a finally freed fly;
No ads will pop up with an extra life.

I know the life is a strife,
like a battle with bottles, not swords,
and like trying to heal the heel of Achilles;
Thou, you still must sort your own sorts.

A bear on a bare desert?
To be in a hive barely alive?
Which knight lives with night-witches?
Switch the channel if it’s full of glitches.

So, to be or not to be a bee?
I say it’s up to you until you feel up,
but if you haven’t fled if you’re fed up;
Don’t try to cut the ties when the tides are coming.

Benyamin Bensalah

04.08.2018

Attila József: Motivating

In China, there’s hanging tangerine.
Today has killed the cocaine.
The straw is buzzing, go to sleep.
Today has killed the cocaine.

Through the window of the store
Till the cashier, sees the poor.
The straw is buzzing, go to sleep.
Till the cashier, sees the poor.

Take a sausage and take some bread,
keep well your living breath.
The straw is buzzing, go to sleep,
keep well your living breath.

Whoever will cook, will kiss, too,
once, there will be a woman, too.
The straw is buzzing, go to sleep,
once, there will be a woman, too.

Benyamin Bensalah

31.01.2020

Translated from the Hungarian poem of Attila József, “Biztató” (1927).

Inspired by death

Inspiration –
To what, all of us are ever subservient,
Sith, being inspired is being alive on its own;
Letting the soul to inspire the fresh reasons of life,
What-without, all of us are just junks of empty organs.

Life –
What is taken by the reciprocal goal
Of living for living, looking for no end, no beginning;
As plants, animals and we humans struggle in its vicissitudes,
The essence and quintessence all of this is living with a goal.

Art –
What is life itself, but not on its own
Since only an inspired, breathing soul can feel;
Feeling the love of the poet, the zeal in a painting,
By meaning of every day is an art, and art is the drug of every day.

Love –
What once is the meaning of life,
After a glance, the most painful drug a man can taste,
Brought by the sweetest venom of a woman’s play and demand,
Killing and enlivening by itself and by its drinkable, smokable antidotes.

Death –
What is fear’d, but inspires us the most,
Its single existence urges us to seize the day;
Seize it by love and art while we are still here, living,
Seize it by seeking inspiration in every moment of not being dead.

Benyamin Bensalah

18.10.2018

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