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Leaking Pen

Rookie - 360 Points (Wellington, New Zealand)

The Pursuit Of Happiness


Who is blowing down my front bent doors?
Where my cracked ceilings are too low
I stand on slippery creaking wooden floors
Greed bleeds the heart of each morning glow.

Take me far away to the outer limits
My hope, my poem, my universe
Beyond the reach where each breach commits
Heart of the orient prays to the purse.

The Far East knows but one love
24 seven each second magnifies the bank line
The west purposely exported its soul's trove
The east mimics to the tee the dollar sign.

The king becomes the slave and devoid
Of heart, but an enlarged bank account
The salve now slaves just to avoid
A cancerous low blood cells count.

The apple lost its battle to the heartworm
The worm in turn dying from its concern
Of not bullying fast the market's brokerage firm
Its bear claws lurk beneath each lasting burn.

Wake up the conscious of the world
Turn a new page and save the poor
Africa in its Sahara desert curled
Utopia masks the Nile's grandeur.

The Maple leaf and the last Eagle
Lay side by side inside the stone crypt
Europe justice chastise the illegal
Macbeth's guilt today's demonic script.

Venezuela just lost her Hugo Chavez
Argentina's tango slips on decaying floors
Brazil evicts its poor for the Olympic prez
Columbia and Peru pile up new stores.

If this poem does not move one single chameleon soul
To act on behalf our present and future children's children
Our past the museum justice from a broken jar scroll
Would justice ever bind Isaac to Ishmael's grand children?


For all who live in glass houses on top of the hill
Immunity from tornadoes just a flight of fancy
One-day politician's souls have to account for their chill
As they keep plotting and purposely act chancy.

Why not command words to verse as best as I can
To highlight injustices hiding with the ostrich head
Wake up my fellow man the Bible's conscious and the Quran
Have they not all bled the Torah and the Buddha from A to Z.

Enough talk and its time for actions
The dying flame at it ends' wick
I have highlighted but the ills' fractions
Join me to change the current flick!


June 11,2013
Copyright Leaking Pen 2013

Submitted: Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Edited: Thursday, November 20, 2014

Topic of this poem: awakening


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  • Rookie - 219 Points David Wood (6/13/2013 1:23:00 PM)

    Man has made a mess of this world and will leave his children a big mess. You've outlined this well (Report) Reply

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