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Array ( [sid] => 139622 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Gasoline Pipe Dreams [time] => 2008-01-06 10:57:35 [hometext] => Im young so be fair and just [bodytext] => Gasoline Pipe dreams buried under the asphalt of my nightmare city.
A thousand disappointments in a golden city
A million reasons to leave.
I hear the oceans calling
I hear the grasses beckoning
A tale and lure of another land

I try to leave
But the thorns pull at me
Twisting and gnawing at my legs
They keep pulling
The roses they buckle and twist away from my face
The whispers of the dead tell me not to leave
The sun drops down only for the moon to rise anxiously

I awake back in my golden city.
I wander through faceless crowds to see faceless emotions.
I crawl under disappointment and I jump over anguish
Emotionless people grab at my clothes.
Fists clenched tightly , teeth even tighter
I walk on , I walk alone.
I have no sense of direction
No sense of faith.

Tormented Pleasures and Twisted Dreams led me to this place.
But I’ve forgotten to stay true to my self .
I’ve forgotten how to feel.
I put my hand into my pocket and pull out a tattered photo
A botched memory of me and you
I just hope you remember me
Or even just a though about me now and then
I’m on my way home.
I just hope you remember. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 400 [topic] => 73 [informant] => liamleash [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 29 [ratings] => 6 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )

Gasoline Pipe Dreams

Contributed by liamleash on Sunday, 6th January 2008 @ 10:57:35 AM in AEST
Topic: abstract

Gasoline Pipe dreams buried under the asphalt of my nightmare city.
A thousand disappointments in a golden city
A million reasons to leave.
I hear the oceans calling
I hear the grasses beckoning
A tale and lure of another land

I try to leave
But the thorns pull at me
Twisting and gnawing at my legs
They keep pulling
The roses they buckle and twist away from my face
The whispers of the dead tell me not to leave
The sun drops down only for the moon to rise anxiously

I awake back in my golden city.
I wander through faceless crowds to see faceless emotions.
I crawl under disappointment and I jump over anguish
Emotionless people grab at my clothes.
Fists clenched tightly , teeth even tighter
I walk on , I walk alone.
I have no sense of direction
No sense of faith.

Tormented Pleasures and Twisted Dreams led me to this place.
But I’ve forgotten to stay true to my self .
I’ve forgotten how to feel.
I put my hand into my pocket and pull out a tattered photo
A botched memory of me and you
I just hope you remember me
Or even just a though about me now and then
I’m on my way home.
I just hope you remember.

Copyright Â© liamleash ... [ 2008-01-06 10:57:35]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Gasoline Pipe Dreams (User Rating: 1 )
by Honey56 on Sunday, 6th January 2008 @ 12:01:00 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

You may be young but this is a truly beautiful piece of work..Better than I ever wrote..lol..
You are truly talented..
God Bless!!!

Re: Gasoline Pipe Dreams (User Rating: 1 )
by emystar on Sunday, 6th January 2008 @ 05:45:50 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Well you may be young but you are wise beyond your young years.
Huggs,
emy
Great writing.

Re: Gasoline Pipe Dreams (User Rating: 1 )
by JohnYamrus on Monday, 7th January 2008 @ 07:12:06 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

this is not bad at all...it's intelligently conceived and smartly executed. there's no leaning on cliches as is usually found in poetry by young people. if you want to progress in your poetry i would suggest you read as much as possible. you have to be grounded in the familiar faces found in the classics...dickinson, poe, frost, etc etc...but you must also immerse yourself in the contemporary big boys as well...people like bukowski and locklin and collins and lifshin...don't think that what you find on internet sites is the beginning, middle and end of poetry. 99% of the stuff found on the internet is crap...get yourself some literary magazines and check out the poetry there...read read read read.
john

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