Waiting for Godot

What else reason brought us upon Earth than facts that
are so trivial, they are even barely believable;
we are none more than the result of animals’ breeding,
doing the same life-essential routines of eating-excreting – and
here, some of our smart arse would say
that we are SENT down to this place by reason that
is we are JUST better than all other livings even if
the facts don’t support this answer; firstly because there was no
question to be answered so arrogantly.
And the above fact that we, humans, defend so desperately our supremacy proves that
we are in deed just a scavenged mixture of nature that
are here just as any other being; temporarily
blessed by the moment and cursed by the next
in what we fall from the circling giant wheel of life; and
this is what we can call a fact
that is standing above beliefs and can start a discussion on what
we are doing here now in these moments that
happen, now, but in the next round they cease as we cease
to know the false facts that kept us believing in
the answer without question why we are here now.
Yes, this isn’t easy to face that there’s no meaning
in the job we take, our education or
the family we were living for;
immense reasons “keeping us alive” are just parts of this
confusion that hides the fact that we are here for
one reason that is to live and die; one
thing is sure above all the false-certitude that Death
alone is the only common variable between us that
is unavoidable, doubtless, assured and
clear as it is.
We are dying together from the first moment we
are to face this glance of time of living, or rather
waiting for reasons to be here;
for we never can know why we are here, but
Godot is coming, and we are either willing or not, but we are waiting it
to come

(“What are we doing here, that is the question. And we are blessed in this, that we happen to know the answer. Yes, in the immense confusion one thing alone is clear. We are waiting for Godot to come –” Samuel Beckett – Waiting for Godot)

Benyamin Bensalah

30.06.2020

A memorable moment

I’ve just arrived to a memorable moment in my life –
Life, here, is not a period as mortals call their lifespan,
But rather, it is the shore of the course of knowledge –
To ask either heart-lessly or -fully: What is the virtue of life?

I’ve been not supposed to count the long steps
That I had already made next to that rich but capricious river,
That has made me ask questions after questions
Till now, when, it’s made me ask about me, how I’ve arrived thither.

Its query has come with a light breeze on my hands,
Creating tornadoes, twisters and hurricanes somewhere else;
As if it asked only a word: “How come you don’t care,
Then, you care about my moments more than anybody else?”

I knelt on the golden shore, looking deeply into the water:
I knelt at that concrete part of life as a few thousands had done before me,
Then, I read out the most conclusive words before we’d proceed:
Virtues: Live Long The Moment, Meet Death While You Are You, You Before Me.

Pulling my face out of the stream of thoughts hurt –
As if the whole universe has been amputated out of my soul,
Tho, hurtfully – thoughtfully, I knew that I have had to go:
I has been just Rousseau, Camus, Benyamin and a thoughtful dog on the shore.

Benyamin Bensalah

29.08.2018

Kill myself or have a coffee?

Should I look for meaning in life if I know
I am following my own product?
Kill or beget; we are all following a flow –
Myself, I am barely able to deduct
Or anticipate the so-called reality I undergo.
Have I missed an important act?
A purpose I should have known a long ago?
Cup all of my years in your hands as a fact
Of that I was living, and throw ’em with a blow;
Coffee and cigarettes will distract me while you’re doing so.

(Should I kill myself, or have a cup of coffee? – Albert Camus)

Benyamin Bensalah

03.05.2020

Vacuum


Many questions have been raised on my nature
The most of them by myself, but also by people;
The funny thing in the huge number the questions assume:
They can be answered by one word: Vacuum.

From those questions, some may please me
Like “What art are those that may lead thee?”
Or “What limit has been reached by your knowledge?”;
They are rare but I like when I’m asked on my storage.

While there are questions I barely like
Like “Why are you a person whom we barely like?”
Or “Why are you so different and not alike?”;
Let’s answer them by a single strike:

My nature is like the nature’s nature:
There’s no place where’s no creature;
So, what I’m fighting is what the nature’s fighting,
Where is darkness there must be lighting:

Vacuum, I’m all fulfilled with emptiness,
If there’s ten planets I need a twentieth,
I wish to fulfill my eager to be fulfilled
Even if by the pressure of that knowledge I’ll be killed.

Benyamin Bensalah

29.04.2019

Mirror diplomacy

What comes around,
Goes around.

I live in a simple city –
Called Simplicity.
In that city, what you say,
You hear it back the same way.
Being a claim, you’ll hear claim,
Being a blame, you’ll get blame.
So, you should watch your tongue
Before – in return – you get stung.

Although, it is not Simplicity –
It’s a friendly city.
Whenever you say something good,
You’ll hear it back in the same mood.
Here, saying courteous compliments
Will guarantee you great moments.
Thus, you may find here felicity,
Visiting my old, simple Simplicity.

Everything’s balanced in Simplicity,
Except my personal toxicity.
Not like other citizens, I read minds,
So, I may be whom everyone minds.
You must only think of me badly,
I’ll prove you the hell is friendly.
Tho, you’d still visit Simplicity,
Avoiding me and my diplomacy.

The picture in the mirror you see,
I’ll be the picture in the mirror you see.

Benyamin Bensalah

21.03.2018

My prince-apples

The wordly world is doggy-doggy,
You need a choice, oki-doki?
Boring bloke whose flavor’s labour,
Or just choose, to be daily lazy.

Life is ocean, harshing hardship,
Who gets on its board, gets bored,
But who are the king of larking,
Whose life’s used as the fund of fun.

Be polar, bipolar, open to the new,
No focus on hocus pocus of the news,
Otherwise, you’re wise nevermore,
You are not, to believe in every lore.

Be an absurb bird, absorbe you heard,
But select the fact without affect,
No attach! Not on a word, nor the world,
Be alone without a loan of anybody.

Give an “X” to the things you learnt,
Give no appearance to give up to learn,
Be the expert of experience, hence,
Your vitality is wit with crazy mentality.

Though the worldy world is doggy-doggy,
Health is before wealth oki-doki?
Choose a real mate, really anti-material,
You, Priceless Prince of Supriseness.

Guard your garden’s Prince-apples,
They are golden pieces of your world,
Through ’em you may throw more poems,
Since all you were right in is to keep writin’.

Benyamin Bensalah

10.05.2016

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

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