E’ib Mubarak

Today’s been a slaughter ordered;
Abrahamic hocus-pocus, fairy-tale,
Like Artemis replaced his daughter with a sheep,
We are doing the same;

Following a social construct,
Taking away thousands of life;
Sheep are crawling in mere bloodbath:
“Look! It’s running towards paradise!”

Not even a minute has passed
that the last breath left the still warm body,
but the people eviscerate,
and ate the inside organs already.

What holiness, what a story behind!
A mad man losing his mind
to imagine a sky-sent message:
Yo, murder your son or just do me sacrifice!

Those of nature – lions, wolves and leopards,
are killing for the sake of killing
or either for surviving the circle they’re aligned,
but we paint children stories with bloody body parts.

Benyamin Bensalah

31.07.2020

*E’ib Mubarak : It is related to Aid El Adha the celebration of Abrahamic story for what all Muslims around the world slaughter sheep as a symbolic sacrifice. The original wish is A’id Mubarak that means Happy Celebration. The title of the poem as E’ib Mubarak means “Disdained Celebration”.

Thinking behind bars

Imagine there’s no heaven below us but the sky,
Imagine there’s no hell beneath us but the ground,
And imagine there’s no truth what people talk about
But the reason we are here is to live and inevitably die.

What would you do in such a world?
Would you waste your time to cry?
Would you chase what you love?
Would you stay enslaved to the crowd?

The hippie is a madman, the lonewolf is a sadman,
The branding iron is parching on the skin of all of us,
The ideologies are blinding and envisioning all of us,
And every creature is free in their living but the man.

The day we were created the thought,
We damned what is living all about,
But this is only what I think,
And my thoughts amongst billions shrink…

…hey, let’s have a drink.

Benyamin Bensalah

28.07.2020

The coolest prophet – Jonah the crook

There’s a story, nearly fairy tale,
about a guy sent into a whaley jail
by reason he did disobey
his Lord’s survey-ridden, nasty play
to send him alone against a city
that already lived by peace and felicity
until the Lord said so:

“Hey, Jonah! I’m your Lord;
I should be worshiped by your crowd:
tell ’em who’s the all star of heaven;
I will give them some days like seven,
then, I will show them some cinema;
go before I burn down Niniveh
because I said so.”

Jonah was shocked by the message;
why this aggression, ravage
while he himself just like that poor people
is meek, simple, desirous and feeble
who eagers no newly made prophethoods,
rather sitting by rivers and staying in woods,
but the Lord knows no fun so.

Murmuring: Yeah, go to Niniveh,
turn them some disastrous cinema
as if the people would believe it
that their life’s wicked, needing to leave it…
but before they lynch me I pick a ship;
Yo, Lord! I’m outtie, fuck this shit –
and Jonah got on board as he said so.

On the sea, there were storms coming,
like water-mountains clapping;
the ship’s crew started to shout, pray and weep,
finding the hiding Jonah, threw him to the deep
by what the godly wrath found peace,
except for Jonah who got eaten by one piece
ending in Leviathan’s fishy jaw.

“Yo, Jonah! How’s with the escaping?
Are you happy now, you made me blackmailing;
go back to Niniveh and kick some butts,
or enjoy the odor down in the guts.”
Smelling the power of the omnipotent,
Jonah found that he’s not an opponent;
saying: “Yolo, I will do as you say so.”

As he spoke, the fish spitted him out,
and Jonah faced back to the unbelieving crowd;
no welcoming, no results,
just a bunch of dislikes and insults,
but God was finally happy
because his sponsor was there in the city,
Jonah who didn’t care at all.

Benyamin Bensalah

07.07.2020

When I was wrong

When I called nothingness a creation,
Glory an angelic revelation,
Heresy all that is good;
Then I was wrong.

I was wrong then
When I haven’t eaten
I didn’t make love by flames of heathen,
Now, where are all, all that I haven’t done?

To be wrong is a human habit, as to live and to die,
What is good, if there is any good at all,
But that is sure and serious for now:
I’m going to be wrong from now.

Benyamin Bensalah

21.08.2018

The supreme mad Lad

God didn’t send us but drunkards and mischievers,
famine and poverty, and above them rapers;
He didn’t give us but wars and peaceful deceivers,
and brainwashing words for the sins’ leaders.

God didn’t create anything out of good purpose
but meaningless tests in his divine boredoms,
He didn’t act just as He says to be a reflection of us;
“act well as I do not, then join my kingdom”, Alas!

God didn’t have any mercy on any of our soul;
chocolate allergy and viruses from Seoul,
He didn’t relieve physical, nor spiritual hole;
nevertheless how you memorize His scroll.

God didn’t help on any who was in real misery,
slaughtered volunteers, fams in austerity,
He didn’t taught us how to evolve humanity,
but peace-painted barbarian prophecy.

God didn’t ever show up but for some lunatics,
to tell us how we live besides our insticts;
He didn’t even exist, but in human psychic credits,
even if did; before we talk he must visit medics.

Benyamin Bensalah

11.05.2020

Where everything’s black

It’s not that I thought myself so clever,
I’ve just been born onto another level;
Far from simple human feelings,
Far, where my quill sings.

Oh, now, I would wish more love;
I wish more acts into my love,
But… I’ve had nothing worth,
But my words.

Even if she said: I live in your words,
She skipped me and my worlds,
From one day to another;
I wish I’d died rather…

While my worlds were falling apart,
Me thinking of my sweerheart;
What more could I give her
If words couldn’t infer.

Now, see how my words newly raved,
From where my soul is engraved;
Wishing its unloved body back
Where everything’s black.

***

I’m wordless, like a true living-dead;
She stole all my words that I had,
Some described her and love,
Some a flower, some a dove.

Wake up, stupid! You last moron!
You still believe in the Koran?!
Where love is devil’s heel,
Wives marked by seal?

Burn down beliefs, humans, memories!
You won’t need their glories
When you will be there;
In that dark sphere.

There, you’ll find peace in Nothing,
Don’t cry for another thing;
Love? Who’d love you?!
An empty queue…

Poorly, your veins in words outpour,
No vehemence, no thing to adore;
A chador, and a picture is back…
But, again, everything’s black.

***

I know that place – I tried escaping,
Not me, but my mindless feeling;
That I have to live anyway,
But, for whom, I’d stay…

A bright smile blinded my moments,
There’s darkness in all continents;
See that you have nothing to see,
No kingdom, no Annabelle Lee.

Rather, find your joy in a smoke,
That helps enjoy any joke;
Even if it’s about life,
Or any other strife.

Search a dark place and breath in,
That’s where you’ll get in;
Digged by your gloom,
A perfect tomb.

The life is full of childish lies,
At my tomb, crocodile cries;
“I wish he’d come back”,
But everything’s black.

***

I’m not a person who sees the morrow,
Carpe Diem. Despite of sorrow;
I try to enjoy this shit,
Despite of every hit.

My eyes, my heart and my whole body,
Are looking for none, nobody;
They wish to die,
Wish to die.

Whether it was the lie of my dark soul,
It may have a bright goal,
To save my sanity,
My insanity.

Sillily, I’m afraid of seeing a Lily,
Even if my grave is chilly,
A flower may try revive
Me, with another lie.

Thus, get away with the colour,
Stop this living horror,
Never turn back
Until it’s black.

***

There are words echoing, Ohhh,
There are only words echoing;
From a lost world,
My only world.

“Try to trick your mind and that’s all”,
*I cry* trick to insanity, pal?
Trick it to imagine you?
All we went through?

I wish I could trick it like that,
Living a dream till I’m dead,
Then, a kiss wakes me up;
“I’m sorry, bud”.

All the pictures living in me,
All that I am living in thee,
Are somehow gone,
But not undone…

So, I curse this world with all its beliefs,
That have destroyed my only relief,
Only hope to have a life payback;
Payback of everything black.

Benyamin Bensalah

05.09.2018

Godly days

It’s said: there’s a God
Who created
Everything in six days and rested…
I don’t want this theory to be tested,
But the copyright on his days is quite divested:
(Two more Babylonian lines
For a Moon-phase advertise’ …)


Sunday – Norse goddess,
Chased by Hate, son of the grotesque
Wolf.

Moonday – Sun’s brother,
Also dog-chased, but not bothered until
Ragnarok.

Tiw’s day – the dueling Mars,
But not making too many wars with hands
Wolf-eaten.

Odin’s day – deathly Mercury,
Nothing makes him more hurry than
Wisdom.

Thor’s Day – thundering Jupiter,
Famously he’s a soul-janitor just as his dad,
Odin.

Freya’s day – our sweet Venus,
Every man is dying just to reach her..
Beauty.

Saturn’s day – the god of time,
Known as Cronos with a scythe, eating
Children.

The more I’m looking for meaning in this life,
The more I end up saying: where’s your God now?

FYI

Benyamin Bensalah

10.02.2020

Inner-pieces

I was born circumsized
                                           With adhan as first words in my ears
My name was Jewish
                                        I attended masses for years
I asked for salvation
                                      Or just some mercy from Geez
I denied religions
                               Seeing the mass as moving cemeteries
I seeked hope in Allah
                                         And his prophet’s companies
Denying no knowledge
                                          From fengshui, karma, to Greek philosophies
Trying to reason
                               Why this pain never leaves,
But the only religion
                                      In what no one believes
I’m my own temple
                                    And my demons pray in it with griefs.

Benyamin Bensalah

24.01.2020

I met people who believe in angels

I met people who believe in angels…
Their clothes wore them over simply,
Their haircut was as plain as a floor cloth,
Their posture was somewhat self-denying.

Only their eyes were burning manically…
Their white of the eye died their spiritual face,
Their face then called for a random holy war,
But their elastic black of the eye was empty.

What’s the matter? – I asked from them,
Then, a thousand of unwanted explaining:
We didn’t create this world, but it’s created!
We are under an eclectical law enforcement.

Then, named and nameless angels came,
Telling me their roles in my life – helping,
Just simply as policemen save donuts,
And firefighters keep cats earthly.

I wanted to tell them a thousand words,
How I were eclectical already
Without angelic red lights,
But.. nevermind.

Benyamin Bensalah

16.08.2018