For The Love of Money

Kemet Mawakana

02 Jul 2008

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By Kemet Mawakana, a.k.a. the Seven Foot Poet

\Who gets paid? Who gets played? What will, or won't be done, and to whom - for the love of money? The Seven Foot Poet knows.

FOR THE LOVE OF MONEY

By Kemet Mawakana, a.k.a. the Seven Foot Poet

Click the flash player below to listen to or the mic to download an mp3 copy of this original work by the Seven Foot Poet.

You can break 100 people

Down into 4-quarters

For fifty-cents

Of common sense says

Some people need to give rain-checks

And money-back refunds

To the person

That gave them a penny

For their thoughts

Of purchasing pettiness

Like the latest lace g-string

To tie around their arteries

And strangle a mind

That has already been well-hung

From

Trees are used for paper

To print a powerful

Green ink

Portrait

Narcotic

To be injected into the brains

Veins

To get the strength

To rob a

One-legged mentally retarded sixty-nine year old woman

Who raised them absentmindedly

Because she

Forgot to tell them

She

Is their mother teacher

Principal

And the

Principle

That the

Principle

That they owe

Has them all like

Chronic smoking parasites

Seeking copper and nickels

Throughout the night

So George Clinton

Give them all

FLASHLIGHTS

Da da da dee da da da dah dah dah dah

And mental detectors

So that they can scan the beaches

On an Alan for Green

That Span across the horizon

Of their comprehension

But who could ever understand

The freaks

On the concrete

Created by the Wall Street Journal worshipwhores

Of sales shares acquisitions mergers

Ours

Is the dilemma

Faced by the penniless

So save your vouchwhores

For tax-exempt choices

Like a corporate jet

Or yacht

Or Stock option

Options?

Who can stop

to think to choose to think to choose?

Between money or time

Or time or money

Or money or time

Or time or money

I throw that at you

So catch 22

Dimes?

Used to buy cups of coffee

Phone calls

Now dimes are too small to be placed in penny

Loafers are individuals who make bread

The lazy way

They inherited it

Along with interest in dimes is only a crime

When it leads one to ride the white horse

In search of duty free

Red-rum

Gin

Scotch

Stock prices will drop

But not in the red because red is dead

Chairmen of the boards will make sure of it

And they only see black down below the bottom of the bottom line

And the 9000 barrier is broken

But how many economists does it take to screw in a barrier?

I don’t know but I know what I don’t know nevertheless

Mess with interests rates

Compounded and curiously

Inflation inflates with helium and raises gas prices

To $4-gallon

and you like DAMN

then you wish it was $3-gallon but when it was $3-gallon

you were like DAMN

So it hits $5-gallon

Then they lower it to only $4.50-gallon

And you like “ok”

Now that’s gangsta!

And gangsta companies – I mean oil companies love it

They love it

They love it like Texaco LOVES black jelly beans

Like pimps love prostitutes

Like drugs love addicts

Like the Nasdaq Composite love bull markets

Like war loves infantry soldiers

Like CEOs love capital gains

Like Jesse Helms loves James Meredith

Like credit card companies LOVE lolly-gaggin consumers

Like the Enterprise loves dilethiem crystals

Sulu go to warp

Get the Enterprises out of here

The Gates of William are cornering the market

On very miniature cotton

One might say the small fabric

Micro

Soft

Like old 1-dollar bills in monopoly

Though the game lacks

DOJ pleas and death penalties

At the discretion of the prosecutor

One can still get out of jail free

Signing

Writing

Words in triplicate

Bearing down with pressure

Sufficient to bond carbon

And produce stolen South African diamonds

They wish upon a star for a hearing aid

But they’ve never heard the sound of natives being killed

To fill

Their pockets with mineral riches

Because the “cha-ching” of cash registers is too loud

And Ben Franklin

Gets a facelift

So he can bend over Susan B. Anthony

Or at least online poker

Instead of the Yen or Euro-trash

Except in come bustin in the feds

Led by R. Kelly and said

Reserve the currency currently

A 401k penalty is your reward

Award someone

Sixty-four thousand dollars

Deal or no deal?

No deal two-hundred thousand dollars

Deal or no deal?

No deal one-million dollars deal

Because they asked the question

Who

What

When

Where

How

Where

When

What

Who

WHAT won’t be done – FOR THE LOVE OF MONEY.

By Kemet Mawakana (aka The Seven-Foot Poet)

Peace (when appropriate) War (when necessary)

Kemet Mawakana (aka “The Seven-Foot Poet”) is a highly acclaimed spoken-word artist, and has published two books A . . . Z . . . Infinity and Crucifixion of My Soul. The collective body of his works presented weekly in BAR are in tribute to Listervelt Middleton, Dr. John Henrik Clarke, and “For The People”. Currently, he is a facilitator at AYA Educational Institute (www.ayaed.com) and can be reached at sevenfootpoet@gmail.com.

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