Shylock Poems | Examples

rerun

(a poem in Senryus)

Let’s rerun the play,
take up strings, so the puppets
can start fresh their dance.

Summon the old ghosts—
Shakespeare’s doomed heroes
—pronounce them reborn.

Recall the actors,
lead horses from their pastures,
raise the curtains.

Pay Shylock his pound
of flesh, give Richard his horse,
let Viola love anew.

Old, ever-hallowed
villainy, once banished,
has taken new stage.

Human suffering,
live—don’t fret, you won’t miss it
—it’ll come to you.
.
.
Songs for this:
End of the innocence by Don Henley
The Perfect Idiot by Fievel Is Glauque
.
.
Songs for this:
End of the innocence by Don Henley
The Perfect Idiot by Fievel Is Glauque

Refining Consciousness

Human life is one of His sublime creations.
Blessed life is entangled in the clutches of relations.
Diametric elements often co-exist.
Dragon bees and sweet honey exist at one hive.
The seven sins pride, wrath, lust, avarice,
Envy, gluttony and sloth consume souls.
Excessive pride of Icarus led to his downfall.
Blake’s ‘A poison Tree’, about wrath is an eye-opening.
Fall of Troy, envy of Shylock, avarice of King Midas teach us good lessons
Gluttony leads to ugly and shameful body posture.
Sloth pushes into procrastination of doings.
Try to overcome. 
No need to encipher the secrets of scriptures
And no need to chant magical words.
Let's unmask our consciences and provide space for introspection.
We can get insight and rebuild our behavior.
Self-Examination is the best practice.
Let's be aware of what we think, speak and do.
Managing emotions builds our decorum
Right perception builds right personality.
Refining consciousness is mandatory to get rid of all impurities.


Placed: 6th


Refining consciousness Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
Date: 01-05-2023

Shark-Thropists

*Image of Philanthropist by Pixabay.

Shark-Thropists

Loan Shark
treacherous jeopardous
sponging laundering doctoring
endowments championships extortioner shylock
fundraising equilibrating compensating
charitable magnanimous
Philanthropist

2022 August 13

A Borrower Softens His Voice

It is a business truth
And transformer of lenders into Ruth
Who have been infamous Shylock 
Or a hesitant safe with lock ...

A borrower to soften his voice
And watch its magic
By far more helpful than a cobra’s poise 
Or Insistent Logic;
A lender’s lost key to his savings booth
Quietly warranting a hammer or Jaguar’s tooth

The voice of the badly broke
When penury has begun to choke
Should be often tender
To the rescuing lender
The broke an unconditional blender
For the service lender has to render.

Antonio

How could you get yourself in such a predicament, Antonio?
So many times before, you had to bail out your friend Bassanio.
He has shown himself to be profligatory and irresponsible.
This time, Bassanio asks for a three thousand ducat principal.
Bassanio goes to Shylock, the Jewish money lender.
There is an unusual loan condition Shylock would render:
He gets a pound of Antonio's flesh if he is not paid back on time.
Even back in those days, didn't that seem like a crime?

I'm not going to spoil it for you by telling how it ends.
I will just say that it is always good to have influential friends.

Based on the play "The Merchant of Venice" by William Shakespeare

In Concert

Pay Shylock his pound
of flesh, give Richard his horse,
let Juliet love anew.

Let go of the ghost - 
Shakespeare’s doomed heroes
- pronounce them all dead.

Fight no more battles,
release strings so puppets 
finish their dance.

Dismiss the actors,
set horses to pasture,
lower the curtains.

Ever-refreshed
villainy, once banished,
has taken new stage.

Human suffering, 
in concert - you won't miss it
- it comes to you.

Shylock Not Key

Shylock 
Carried lock

Key not
To open Venice!

Pain of Pains

PAIN OF PAINS

Imagine love long last with plainly progressive pain
No long thug years without some stains
Timely trying to break through like in chains
Living a fast lanner, although like a stranger
Hostile heart plots me the right tactics to aim her
With the pain and aches of wasted blood
Got to be a Shylock after emerging from the stitches
Making an insidious being even to a loved one
And making a vigilant sinner out of thee
Having to say anxious prayers on frigid knees
The smell of fury and revenge is in the air
And even the whirlwind struggles to blow it away
Snaringly beckoning on thee as an apparition
Like Makavelli and Tupac, the ghost will last;
The ghost of a sinner's past.
Make my arms start to froze, eyes open, mouth start to ooze
Turning the beholder into ice-rink from head to toe
Even after taking peaceful doze
The mind still eventually goes...
Back from living dead,cold coming turns heart into stones
Which breed and sparks torment of thy soul
Never strong enough to equal the pain of pains.

VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © 2013

Change Is Inevitable

Depression takes on many forms,
including thoughts of suicide.
And it leaves you entertaining a multitude
of sad, self-demeaning emotions
that fester away
in the back of your mind.
Somehow, your soul has lost its way,
and you wander blindly
through a minefield of self-destructive thoughts.
But suicide is never the answer.
In fact, it's the direct result of a lack of answers,
and is both impulsive and nonretractable.
A persistent deflating of one's self-worth
fuels feelings that manifest as acid tears;
bleaching the life out of dreams and wishes.
And you seek refuge
from the onslaught of life's compromises,
hoping to find peace within eternal sleep.
But you'll die alone, without ever having lived.
And like Shylock, Death will claim its pound of flesh
from those who love you and feel helpless.
You want your misery to end,
feeling trapped in a nightmare with no way out.
But give yourself time; if nothing else,
humans are resilient,
and change is inevitable.

I Have a Date- Ian Munywe

I HAVE A DATE
I have a date,
with the Shylock.
I am raring to trade,
all my valuables.
That cost me,
an arm and a leg.
For peanuts,
with which to bribe.
The landlord,
not to vacate me.
From his minuscule,
colossal castle.
A cloth in one hand,
and soap water in the other.
These gems of mine,
have got to shine.
For Shylock is,
too particular.
Even,
rather peculiar.
All has to be right,
lest in the cold I sleep tonight!
LiterarySpaceAfrica  Ian Munywe©

Equations Never Equate

No thing in this beautiful world is equal to any other
So, some genius (nincompoops) tried their level best - to equate;
I don't know whosoever has asked them to equate
I can bet, there must be some amount of hate - factor in it 
To fit - their desired result out of it - like Shylock

Even being a student of science, I am saying so
'Cause I know, equality is just a hypothesis 
Yes, I know my words may annoy you all
But, think - preconditions being the same results always differ
Do you and your siblings are equal?

Can any factory produce exactly the same product from their machines?
The answer is, "No" - those are almost equal but not the same
Can my love equates with my beloved's love? 
Why hundred odd Billionaires  have all the riches of billions of people?
What say you? My friend - Equations never equate

We all are unique 
And that's the beauty


12.03.16

P.S. : Sorry, if my words hurt you any, I do not meant to

The Invisible Treasure

Since ages, this has been a source of  victory,
  as well as failure.

Every one posses it but a few utilise it wisely,                                        


 This has lead to the construction of new kingdoms or the destruction      
 of empires,


 This gave rise to both negative characters like Shylock or Shakuni and
  positive characters like lord Krishna or Yudishtira


Who could have thought  that an apple which fell as usual from a tree would change the destiny of science by the discovery of gravity ..

Scientists posses it but very few utilise it and earn a name as 'Great',

 This creation may be used for deceiving others or killing or Even for the establishment of peace,


 This is the most possessive , attractive creation and can only be understood by
 experience  , this is the Human Mind ..

No one knows what a person may think, unless he tells by himself
or some one with extreme intelligence can read his mind ,
the amazing thing is, we humans even in the 21st CE
 are struggling to understand this great creation of God  .....

Feast of Chaos

The undertaker prepped him voguishly
Like there was a party six feet below
The earth where anosmic maggots
Were tamed by steep fragrance

He is dead, he is dead
Of what use is a tinseling treasure
To the naively rich sands?

The gold plated casket glitters
In the mourner's eyes
How classy is death in its house?

A gang of aggrieved groupies
Hallowed to a one time
Shylock-baron unleashes its ruckuses
At the swanky funeral

They teemed tiny shell
At the casket and in a tick
The casket transmuted into
A gold plated basket

He is dead, he is dead
The bullets ran its errands
Through and through
But death was poker faced

The deceased wife face streamed
Down tears...The triumphant groupies
Prod the remains for mockery

Until wee in the day
When the police came for a sweep
The shylock-baron was in a feast-
Romance with the houseflies...
Until the groupies dispersed

He is dead, he is dead
He who dies once is lucky
But he who dies again has lost his soul
And would be damned

What was his crime?
That he was having 
More than he needs.

Shylock

"if you prick us,
Do we not bleed?
If you tickle us,
Do we not laugh?"

Your crime filled eyes
Stare upon me
As if..
As if I were the devil.

Your hateful smiles,
Evolve into meere sneers.
Your fingers point,
Your smiles spit,
Your mind mocks,
But you choose no different.

"I am a Jew"
I suffer,
I'm called 'dog'
An yet...
You run to me
For money.

"I am a Jew"
Your society 
Is my jail.
I'm imprisoned 
By your rules,
Your religion.

"I am a Jew"
You hate me
Not for my looks,
For my house,
Nor my words...
And most certainly
Not for my money.

"I am a Jew"
Mistreated....
Misunderstood....
Alone, deserted
Even by my own daughter,
With no where to go
No one to love...
And only Christians to turn to.

"I am a Jew"

Lucy

Joyful O joy excelling
Feeling filling lips exalting praise
May the heartens live in malaise
Gnash under the ravishing heat like a praise
To him to whom they live to relive
In destiny thwarted, forgotten to have ever lived
All ye praise to God to whom they disbelieve
His eyes see through the seething darting eyes of Lucy
The morning light, what a sly
His vain beauty lies a fly praise
That housed his beautiful ambiance holding His praise
To whom he disbelieved
 What a Shylock
How 'tis to see the fanning seething heat
Ice cold laugh Lucy enjoins his own
He knows he only needs more of them
As a company in his quest for destruction

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