Thumbing the Gelt
I am the King of Coins,
wherever I go they listen.
I can’t resist the smell of burning,
It reminds me of home.
A coin fresh from the mint
feels like a brand new day,
a token of promises made
with double-crossed fingers.
Each wet wad is worthless
Lips speak of bribes. Each mouth
shaped by want. This
pretty paper is imaginary.
How I love that shiny gold,
a party dress dollar, each
element of a measured exchange.
I pass the time by counting
what I have. Three thieves
died of thirst in Death Valley
their dollars could not buy them water.
A cocksure wind blew
their bucks away.
To know it is to lose it.
No one rules. But this.
© Copyright Naomi Woddis 2008
Inspired and taken from answers to the the following questions:
What is money ?
Who rules ?
How self determining are we ?
Money is domineering pretty paper.
The persons that make us break them to get a release from the pretty paper.
Determined yes, socially cohesive no. Upper, middle or lower will shape your
Is a device designed to claim ownership and give value to objects of both
a physical and intellectual nature yet money in it’s physical form has no
real value or use, merely transient inanimate object.
We as individuals still rule and are destiny is very much in are own
hands but some are unaware of it, and are quick to hand over our sovereignty
to others forces commonly fear.
Ultimately we are self-determining, as we have total control over the
choice we make but whether we choose to take responsibility or contribute
choices to external conditions is again a choice for us to make.
Money is imaginary, shiny gold personified by dirty paper.
No one rules, or rather the length of time they rule is so short that to realize is to lose it.
Coins replace chains to tyrannical kings. Currency serves like an animate symbol of freedom forever buying itself into slavery. Tokens of promises made with fingers double-crossed. Paper notes like elaborate contracts of capitalism, cocaine stained, passing through countless hands, trading in each world-war’s arms, compensating war-widows their woeful cut of the carnage. Established element of measured exchange, speaks the language of food and shelter, life, land, poverty, thievery, blackmail, bribes and fines and too many sparkly shoes.
Money is not to be confused with value or worth. It’s the great conspiracy theory, that these bits of paper or metal have intrinsic significance. Have you got any currency that is no longer current, any centimes, drachma or threepenny bits? In B.Traven’s story “The Treasure of Sierra Madre” the three thieves die of thirst in Death Valley whilst the thousands of dollars they have stolen cannot buy them water and blow away. One thing is certain, money does more harm than good, promoting in the individual a sense of false energy and easy solutions to complexity and in the World sense dividing humanity itself.