Ab sense

You who can’t hear the scream of silence;
The shrieking loneliness of days and nights,
You who can’t see the shades of indifference;
The invisible sadness in the ever smiling eyes,
You who can’t touch life in ceaseless roughness;
The dried out face that only in the heart cries,
You who can’t taste the rejoice as bitterness;
The rockbottoms of an endless precipice,
You who can’t feel the lifelong unpeace;
The homelessness in roof disguise,
How could you understand the words of mine’s;
The life inside a violin’s fall and rise,
How could you understand Peace;
A moment my heart so eagerly desires,
Being absent on me in the whiles.

Benyamin Bensalah

31.08.2020

Finished, but unfinished

No one loves me, not even one,
Not an animal, not a human –
Monster, I’m called by the men;
Loving and being loved, it’s them…

No one feels me, not even one,
I’m not an animal, not a human –
Monster, I’m called by the men;
Feeling and being felt, it’s them…

No one hears me, not even one,
They’re not animal, not a human –
Monsters, they’re called by the man;
Seeing and hearing, it’s not them…

Benyamin Bensalah

11.09.2018

Deposits

Like sprinkling dust on the paper,
Moulding itself into mud;
Sound the words of the pauper,
Forming his tears into flood.

His need is not a bigger pocket,
Or a fam of a good blood;
His thirst made him a bitter poet,
Being lost in the flood.

Flood of a baby’s first cry to the world,
Seeing everything newly indifferent;
He wishes for a straight world unwhirled,
Wishing not being so different.

Dirting the paper with stolen words,
From sloppy worlds of others;
The pauper gets deeper in his thirst,
And goner in others’.

Sodden paper-pieces in the mud,
Like flood-brought thrashes;
But they didn’t came with the flood,
Just from a former poet’s ashes.

Benyamin Bensalah

17.09.2018

Passive Debts of Happiness

I’ve got a life sentence for every moment of happiness
because a thousand lives are lived by the one who thinks,
and has no living, only in his thinking of
dim fantasies and happenings of
what we had and now we don’t.

I had paid with terror for every evening tale of happiness
in the comatose moments of an easeless clock
that turnes the scenes in glance of shock
from dull peace and meekness
into whirling nightmares.

I paid dear for gazing at every unmerited gems of happiness
that were clearly not meant for such filthy hands,
holding torture in past and hast in the future
for once, ending that doubtful esurience
for all the good that I was bad for.

I’m paying an ocean for every single drop of happiness
that buries me with a million tons of darkness,
hits me with a thousand Newtons of waves,
and suffocates me without measure
for only the thoughts I had, have.

I’ll be paying a never-enough price for the least of happiness
because I’m destined for the opposite of good,
and I am still kicking away the bad mood
that always had cradled, peddled
and will have settled me.

Benyamin Bensalah

09.03.2020

Do Not Open

Guilt-pushed wet pillow on my face;
What have I done? There’s no trace,
But there must have something happened,
There must have something happened.

I don’t know much what’s going on;
I have no goal, no role I could be living on,
I’m just surviving day to day,
Day to day.

But today – tonight, I opened a file;
Full of photos of a guy with the same profile,
But he is stranger to me,
Stranger to me.

On the photos, he was with a girl;
I would lie if I say I don’t know her,
But I can feel nothing,
I can feel nothing.

I don’t know who’s that guy;
He was so happy, but how and why,
How is it possible,
It’s impossible.

I don’t know who they are;
Why are they so bizarre,
They are a copy of me,
Were a copy of me.

That guy was in love with her;
Then, why I can’t refer,
What’s going on,
What’s going on.

You hurt and destroyed her;
But I didn’t even know her,
No, it’s all your fault,
It’s all your fault.

I’m guilty and for sure I’m crying;
I wish I could be faster dying,
Rather than feeling guilty,
While it wasn’t me.

I don’t know that guy, nor myself;
That girl must have left our self,
I am alone with my pain,
Who am I? I claim.

I sleep some nights or glance my eyes;
It happens: everything resets as lies,
But I didn’t mean any of that hurt,
I should have put out an alert:

Don’t approach; I may be fine today;
But I’m a new person every day,
Making you happy for a while,
Then, putting you into a file
With a lost profile
That comes out rarely
Feeling guilty,
Unhealthy,
Crazy.

Benyamin Bensalah

29.02.2020

Enraining

I’ve been in an acid rain.
From the start.
Tap-tap, tap-tap.
Every drop falls.
Through my coat.
Through my face.
Into the heart.

I’ve been sitting in a pit.
It rains sadness.
Ha-ha, ha-ha.
Every drop laughes.
Into my ears.
Into my soul.
Through madness.

I’ve been waiting death.
To come.
Tak-tak, tak-tak.
I can’t wait.
In the years.
In the pains.
How long they last.

Benyamin Bensalah

20.11.2016