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
Even my scars are from hard work,
not from blades,
I wear a wide smile all the time,
not crying for anyone,
my body is so pure and kind,
but my soul’s spoiled.
How to express I’m depressed?
I’m copying with happiness.
How to express I’m oppressed?
I can only flex.
Who would understand these all?
I’m in a constant fall.
I’m lost in a way that there’s no way;
I see colours, but everything’s grey.
I can say hey, but not tomorrow;
I am stucked up in my sorrow.
I would borrow… someone,
but… I’m already gone.
Benyamin Bensalah
10.04.2021
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
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
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
When everybody goes to sleep,
here I am me, all alone
with the only company, my phone
that doesn’t pop up, doesn’t beep.
When everybody goes to sleep,
here I am me, on my own
with the only company, the phone
that knocks up all the deep.
When everybody goes to sleep,
here I am me, on my throne
with having the world that others don’t
that none would like just a creep.
When everybody goes to sleep,
here I am me, being thrown
with company as a phone
that goes into the dark to sweep.
When everybody goes to sleep,
here I am me, the sweeping clown,
cleaning my own comfort zone
from awareness that’s never asleep.
Benyamin Bensalah
24.03.2021
I
have
grown
alone,
and
I’m
alone
as
grown.
Benyamin Bensalah
21.03.2021
How? What? Why? I really dunno –
Though my life was already ready to go;
Drama, drama and goddamn traumas –
These drums are drumming under all my Sagas;
Dive and rise, dive and rise are all my rhymes –
These tenses tensed me all the times;
Crawling, falling, crawling, falling in a row –
Bowling the same boulder with a giant crow;
Wishing – hissing this has been such an Epic –
But despite all the witting, been just pathetic;
Missing love and dissing care –
Unlovable, self-aware;
Out of context just as sex –
My mental shutdowns just multiplex;
No social circles, nor any goals –
On my knowledge bigass holes;
Body? Housing? Dare to diss that thing? –
I’ve never been else than disgusting;
I tried to ignore, tried to die –
But I failed even to cry;
My nerves served me only disconcert –
Awkward, harmful as pervert;
I’d blame gods or Darwin’s words –
But it still constantly hurts;
I should quit and I am closing –
My life is the best thing for losing;
Even the thought is so pleasant –
No more drums of past and present;
No more future unpleasant Pre-sent.
Benyamin Bensalah
11.03.2021
Cornered by this ill-fate ordered,
but there must exist an alternate ending,
not scorched-land bordered;
the thoughts are so vain, but somehow mending…
Benyamin Bensalah
02.01.2020
Why is it so hard to talk to me?
I’m so easy to define and see
like a drawn circle on a 2D paper;
no need to think of infinite dots,
no need to calculate any of the odds
why we are a 2D paper’s spots.
I’m so easy to talk to as a 2D circle;
I know all about what’s a circle,
I have ideas who draws circles,
what’s the paper all around,
but in a glance, all the flat talk circles down.
I am not a 2D circle –
I am a ball after all;
I need to select 3D objects
to talk about the mere sphere
we see as truly- or non-coprehendable.
I talk about all dimensions –
nonetheless its name or number,
or how they are non-comprehendable;
I am an E8 mass of particles,
being everywhere, but nowhere as a whole.
I am so hard to talk to
because I am here and there after all;
there’s my shadow on a 2D paper,
there I am bouncing like a ball,
and such a changing shade is barely talkable.
Benyamin Bensalah
20.12.2020
