Short Shekels Poems

My Hades my soul
Where to find Jesus ask these
Thirty shekels of gold...

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Greed
a Haiku
By: Tom Wright
11-2-2019

Greed takes center stage,
and suddenly is all ears,
When Shekels rattle.
...

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red wine 
cursed the marble floor
thus,
Brutus 
Judge of Rome
no more
who 
kisses the face of Jesus
once more
the
betrayal
for 
thirty shekels of gold...

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  Reuven gave a half-shekel, Shimon did too
    600,000 half-shekels, one from every Jew  
  Pure silver for a Tabernacle with a magnificent view  

  My half plus your half made one round shekel, you see
    And that is the secret of Jewish Unity
      
   
...

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on the day of 
the last supper
we 
break bread with Jesus

I 
sat by His right hand
and he always knew

that the flesh is 
weak in mankind

He looked at me again
while
fresh eyes journeyed into my soul

there to find the reason
for the unholy betrayal

then
my soul replied in broken tears
for thirty shekels of gold...

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the deep voice of His Holiness
was the sea of calm
where Judus planted a kiss on the right cheek of Jesus
then, Jesus whispered into my ear
the sign of the betrayal in the atmosphere
as Judus quietly sits to the right of Him
while taking full communion of the Last Supper
thus, Judus planted the final kiss of betrayal
unto Jesus for thirty shekels of gold...

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The clock of my mind stopped in 1897.
it is always late autumn
and we dress mostly in grey
steam locomotive whistles
daily puncture our thought balloons
my teacher once said:
Boy, consider the rectangle,
source of all progress.
forty days and forty nights
forty shekels and forty cubits
and thirty pieces of silver
the number of mosquitoes
skating on the rain barrel
a marching panorama
of numbered cards
sometimes, a Joker!
a fire or a drunken brawl...

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It came around in time.
Not a pewter dime but your silver chime

delighting the eyes of a sleep-deprived moth,
awakened from nightmares in chloroform froth.

Each muttered lie which lessens the blind,
(that my eyes, yet blinking, chased once behind)

whose stale shriek of shekels tempt tender-throats’ trust
(from far-reaching lecterns of razor-burned dust)

promise false profits, their cheeks full of rue,
bankrupt, unable to quarantine you.

11/30/2017...

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Armed at all time, cap-a-pie.
leaving no room for tete-a-tete
Dwelt amongest enemy and snake
when enemy; our land they inevade

other, 'r death serves as joy
like the death on cross calvary
oh! ay, 'r life oft citizen's life
we hast forgotten our home

Gun bullet o'er our head? 
't is either kill or be killed
widow turn our women
Nay, our children, orphan

for 'r punctured soul, they paid
Twenty shekels, thou remembered
cry, joy; on our return home
cry for puntured soul, joy for enemy...

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