Money is as innocent as the Sun (part 6)

money, is as innocent as the sun,

the money estate borderless, the estate of money, without horizon,

rising as the nation, setting as the gun,

that from which, without their lives, so many run,

an empire of extraction, for expansion, expansion for extraction,

an empire, with a vampire like reflection, hu! non!,

well, one, to be seen in the eyes of those who have run,

a gift, a conversion, humanity to civilisation, civilisation to humanity,

an opportunity, knocking on our doors,

to see, to hear, to think, to feel,

to pause, to pause the calamity of money’s laws,

a currency that can not fund wars, humanity,

it does not wash up on shores,

it debases this sham sovereignty of bank corruption-cy,

that put the mock in de-moc-racy,

the bogey refugee, a byline in history,

the headline; ‘a world wide fake identity, scam revealed’,

‘nationality’, in which eyes, ears, hearts, minds, and lips are sealed,

rubber stamped and congealed, in blood untold,

this earth one foreign field, forever exhumed of it’s midas yield, sold,

and sold, and sold … and sold …

until we embolden, wield worth, weaved with this earth,

by the quality of commonality,

that beseeches time to teach us, a humility,

to be dispossessed of that money vanity contest,

of more, more, more to the power of more, than the rest,

and now rest …rest!

let us rest from this incessant insistence that we are contestants,

in a race against time, as money,

it can be rebooted, as trans-nationality, and instituted on a solidarity,

to occupy the money estate,

and to liberate, sovereignty, from the banks,

from that, and any majesty, that demeans commonality, and from money, as the state of the nation,

a money state, a state of abstract occupation,

in which its collaborators with their amoral sophistication,

claim the benefits of environmental degradation,

their impersonation, of border guards, done unconvincingly,

show me, your papers, oh!, sir, madam, all that paperless paper, sir, that’ll do very nicely,

(mime putting on rubber gloves)

would you like these people to recount their woes,

while these people to touch their toes,

a selection of lubricants,

blood, sweat, fears …

as of yet though, relatively few, so, far have run,

from the cradles of civilisation to the cradles of abstraction,

where money won, the competition,

of unintended consequences, and begun, the slow burning,

sacrifices, to the sun,

that from which so many will run,

money, more ran from than to, to you, to me,

a humanitarian emergency,

UN declared,

resolution prepared, passed,

a license to print money,

millions, billions, to support, and to welcome every refugee,

hold on, hold on!, that’s an import, and export license,

for weapons and their not so safe delivery,

money, the price to meet,

I repeat, life a given,

which money has misshapen, as possession,

this money is like your death,

it’s yours, but it can’t belong to you,

money like life, it can’t be yours,

but, it does belong to you,

this innocence,

our presence as absence, to be, to long,

to share to belong,

money is as innocent as the sun,

both loosing their shine to this pollution, for history,

come fistory, of mother nature by her youngest son,

while holding the gun,

to a saturation, point, we are market stricken, a headless chicken,

money did anoint,

to the point, of no return, tipping tipping tipping as we burn,

to distraction, this carbon extraction, for money’s accumulation,

drought nation after drought nation, hungry for rivers down which they’ve been sold,

this reoccurring privatising dispossession, of the commonfold,

fold!, money please!, put your cards on the table and walk,

this gamble was just a fable, cheap talk,

of weather incidence, by and buy and buy and buy and by coincidence,

untold, light’s silence, the silence of light,

the clickless trigger of time’s finishing gun,

light, oh light, what have we done?,

this innocence,

all the graceful elegance,

of the later stages of malnutrition,

salivating in the sea!, its like, salivating in the sea,

salty? No those are the tears that belong to you and me,

money is as innocent as the sun,

when all is said and done,

an appearance, with all the indifference, of the gun,

this money power power money con-nundrum,

an appearance with an indifference to stun,

so, is it wise, to relying on, the sea to rise,

with all the wroth of an ocean,

in resistance, to this desolating dictatorship of accumulation?,

it’s means and ends calibration, also takes nothing into consideration,

least of all the dispossessed impoverished population,

maybe, this innocence,

it hasn’t, cause it can’t eclipse, our other sun,

our conscience shared in motion,

proletarian fusion, our power to over come,

to not keep stum, keep ourselves to our selves, or to play dumb, but to be realised by ties,

be embraced by the wisdom, of worth,

that as a life, we have not as of yet discovered our selves on this planet,

still called earth,

where birth, was given love, and love was given birth,

for what its worth, for what it is,


between you and me, worth, it’s not between you, me,

its between you, me,

there is no price to meet, no equivalence you see,

can you feel those, can you hear those chimes of possibility,

the spring coiled in History, to become Ourstory,

the quality, of commonality, is straining, to ring, from every place of work, learning, leisure and healing,

without it, there’s just this silent stealing,

the collection by silence,

in which quickly we need to find in each others hearts, quickly, quickly, the courage of defiance,

to rise, to revolutionise, ties, that bind, beyond spinning alibis,

lets, rise! with a love that creates as it defies, capitalism’s reduction, capitalism abduction, its ablution,

come on! come on!

money, is as innocent as the gun!,