Greek Fire in and out

I’m releasing less attention
because I’m breaking under some tension
from the rules of nature,
being this carbonic ape-like creature,
but I’m still doing my best,
still living even if pain’s ripping my chest.

The days’ve been heavy,
my rhymes have become just as wacky,
rolling down some short-not shots
while playing a lunatic, mad poet’s plots
with loneliness as franchise
that’s sad, not, until the wretch dies.

No harsh feelings, that’s fine,
I’m still holding the line and that’s mine;
I’m born with bigger heart, naive –
this is how I’ll leave, nothing more to achieve,
but till my hands can tremble,
I note myself down, so you can remember.

What a talent, what a treasure,
but has nobodoy to share this pressure,
talking as if it would be shareable
my crazy selves, nothing like cherishable;
no need of “pain, no gain” bullshitting –
I’m just here for some fire-spitting.

Dark, surrounding big-blue ocean,
I’m still burning on its surface in self-promotion;
my flames tremble, and are heavy,
none’s feeding them and I gave up already
since its hunger would eat up worlds,
but I’m just a poor poet who’s running out of words.

Benyamin Bensalah

24.05.2021

Devils may cry

My indifference surpasses Earth’s billions species,
my wild philosophies boil hotter than Venus,
my grief’s still colder than Pluto’s deepest valleys,
my carelessness embraces the whole space;
still, there’s a crying child in me
who doesn’t want more than being loved
and told motherly that this is your very place.

Benyamin Bensalah

24.04.2021

The Age of a Dragon

Time has been no more just a deception.
Where are the uncountable years on chain?
How to count the unceasable pain?
What measure can contain all the knowledge
of one’s griefing observation
on the self and what imprisons it?

The world is no more than a foolery.
All the pain grew shield on our skin, still..
Still, the scars are under our scales;
they are graved into the heart –
no teeth, no claws can defend us from;
this ruthless form is meaningless.

Life is a ceaseless demolition.
There’s no defense from this dark magic;
it creates spears and useless scales against,
then some wizardry chains us in caves
because we burnt the bridges, burnt the gates,
but weren’t we created for that?

Benyamin Bensalah

18.04.2021

Edging story

Monsters give birth to monsters;
they lay their eggs,
spread them with their acids,
scar them,
deface them with claws –
and when they leave the hive,
suffocating from terror,
facing a toxic world
that can’t surpass their own..
..their own toxic pumping
in their very heart
full of scars;
they say
mostly nothing,
but sometimes
they say:
yes, we are just monsters.

Benyamin Bensalah

17.04.2021

In sanity


It’s hard to remain sane
with a crâne full of thoughts
on how to be, and how not to
what to do, and what should have tho.

It’s hard to remain sane
and it doesn’t even pay it
I can’t, don’t even have to say it
how hard it is to satisfy anybody.

It’s hard to remain sane
with the people around us
playing, changing, randomly faking
while fighting with this insane brain.

It’s hard to remain sane
I did try it and I can say it
as someone who can see it
that being insane is much rewarding.

It’s hard to remain sane
with a crâne full of thoughts,
but those thoughts make you,
and at your senses; none fools you.

Benyamin Bensalah

13.04.2021

Evil within

I built the walls, burnt the bridges,
scorched the land, searched the witches,
ruptured the nerves, devoured the preserves,
starved the body, tortured the mind,
riped out the tongue, blinded the eyes,
left none behind, let none comeaforth,
I am alone, only of a sort;
still the enemy is knocking, mocking,
shocking, rocking,
burning, torching,
blinding, grinding,
hiding, overriding,
chasing, petrifying
within me
wherefrom I cannot flee
cannot feel
cannot live
cannot die;
and I just can’t…
anymore.

Benyamin Bensalah

06.04.2021

False Reality

The years are already blurry.
They create a false reality,
my mind. I don’t trust what it is saying though
like problems will disappear by tomorrow.

As a naive child, I hope so too
that I will live, and it is true
that I will see a tiny part of happiness.
I might clean my sight from stress.

I want to see it, but I can’t
because I know it wasn’t meant.
As if there were no tomorrow, it’s in hurry,
this decade is leaving me with a quick sorry.

I’m lost in the dark and I’m afraid;
I myself got myself chained,
and I know I could be anything better
if my light had just a bit flattered.

Alone, on the last word’s right,
I say I won’t reach more height
because here, even my self-hero flees
from my false realities.

Benyamin Bensalah

27.03.2021

Pooethics

Here’s the fellow who’s not mellow
Anymore
I’m born rotten and forgotten
Anyway
I had had poems, kind of solemn
Anyhow
But here I am with crying rhyming
Anywhere
I’m good in bad moods and vice versa
Anywise
I tried to be a smartass, but proven the least smartest
Anywhen
I’m still unknowing, and not going
Anywhither
I’m a born clown, pulling down
Anybody
I’m in a vortex, out of context
Anyplace
I can’t heal, I can’t feel
Anything
I’m surely nut and I am not
Anyone.

Benyamin Bensalah

01.04.2021