...The SaintsAwards Project...

Poetry


I love you Money
By Njoku SaintJerry A.

How I love you money
How I crave to own you
O' money, why the hell you can't grow
Like grass in the field?

Money, why're you treating them people so bad?
Money, why're you making lot of the people go crazy?
Just for them to catch a glimpse
And feel your rottenness,
No...your freshness or was it your naturalness

Of course everybody knows it all
The taste of money
How good it scents and
How bad it reeked
When you want to feel it close

O' money, why the hell you treating them people so bad?
Last night I heard Chief Greedy FatPaunch curse Mr. Flat Ass Porter
He slapped him red
Mr. FlatAss Porter looked down and curse his god
Money breached it all

O' money, why're you making a lot of the people go crazy
You sent that man out of the church
You branded him an ineffective member
He's got a lean purse for the church
You made him a potential new-comer
Because the pastor can¡¯t see him now
-He is very busy-
But I do hear Chief Greedy FatPaunch laughing
Halleluyah!
Bless you Chief, Let's Pray.

O' money, I love you money
More than everything, I love you money
What else? More than anything
I couldn't stop wondering why
Chief GoldDigger had to daily hide his pinkie
in a white apron
Or why Madam EverYoung was denied a baby
Even God in his infinite mercy deny them babies
O' money, how I crave to own you money
If I can't give up the testis I'll give up the pinkie
So that I'll live to rule you money.
Of course you taste so sweet

More sweet than honey
Everybody knows it all
The taste of money

In the chief place of divine concourse
You've made Mr. Liar FatPaunch an angel
Now a leader of the saints
You've gone to the altar
You defecate on the microphone

Now you've gone to the school
Master Wisdom Sensible son to Mr. FlatAss Porter
Can't get a place
Because Doctor MoreMoney can¡¯t get enough tips

It was no error
Your sweet rottenness
You stenching freshness
Now in the hand¡­Gone to the purse¡­Back in the air
Everybody gets it and lose it immediately
Same people, different ways, same days

O' money why're you making the people go crazy
Why the hell you treating them people so bad
If I don't live to own you money
Rule you all the days of my life
Catch a glimpse of you when I blink
let me live to begat you
I love you money

SaintJerryA. 1998