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Alex Saynor

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    Wanted man at Hounslow Central
    Wanted man outside the Stoop
    Wanted man on Chiswick High Road
    Wanted man at Botanic Kew

    Wanted man outside the Beehive
    Wanted man in Osterley
    Wherever you might look tonight […]

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    What if we forgot to start pre-season,
    found a training camp for enjoying time
    above the crickets and distant fireflies?

    What if we only started the season
    to fulfil a contract? Where is the passion
    which […]

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    The biggest game, the culmination
    of a fading season brought pause
    to fans ranged across the masonry
    of ancient stands in rival colours.

    Penalties. The terminal feedback
    of defeat, the draughtsman’s empty […]

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    How did we arrive here?
    Carrying unfulfilled fixtures
    of the missing from our city
    to UEFA’s listening committee,
    a tentative morning in the warm sun
    of Kungstradgarden assembled faces
    from the Stretford […]

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    Under a canopy of unbroken cloud,
    across a junction over undropped kerbs
    with gates and hedges for goals
    and a wickedly uneven, improvised pitch,
    you appeared in an urban field of dreams
    arrayed on concrete […]

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    Alex Saynor commented on a poem on Football Poets 4 months, 3 weeks ago

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    It’s the FA People’s Cup,
    but who can understand
    this affliction in the sun?

    Fair weather to me is a bitter breeze,
    high winds and a heavy squall,
    ice patches on fourth generation
    artificial surfaces, […]

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    Watching the sky change from Petticoat Tower,
    on the top floor a widower
    scans the gold of morning, hassle of twilight,
    glimpses the holy land as old animosities
    settle over gin and lemonade
    with the old boy […]

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    Alex Saynor published a poem on the site Football Poets 1 year ago

    A trophy haul to rival Ferguson’s,
    but new seasons don’t feel so new any more.
    An imaginary game in the village of Solva,

    a training camp in the Austrian Alps,
    immaculate pitches, mountains
    and […]

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    Alex Saynor changed their profile picture 1 year ago

  • Profile picture of Alex Saynor

    Alex Saynor changed their profile picture 1 year ago

  • Profile picture of Alex Saynor

    Alex Saynor changed their profile picture 1 year ago

  • Profile picture of Alex Saynor

    A tea cosy hat –
    the strange shape of loyalty.

    The Hammersmith and Fulham crest
    says ‘I stood among terrace weeds.’

    Long distance coaches
    crawled north for bitter days
    on broken trajectories.

    The tracksuits […]

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    Clouds were grey and yellow above waves
    below verandahs where Magpies thronged
    en route to Thursday in Bordeaux

    from south coast weather, a Portsmouth low,
    to a liner’s isolated corners,
    transitory bars, sea […]

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    No bitterness in the lemon
    No sweetness to the lime
    No liquid in the bladder
    No water into wine

    No nonsense in the bitter
    No suspension on appeal
    No magic in the mushrooms
    No Carrick in midfield

    No bonfire of […]

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    He plays in the middle
    like it’s June on the reef
    with a touch as light as lemon drizzle,
    feet which glide upon a thermal
    and defenders left in disbelief

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    Managers go. Migrate with phantoms
    of the present on staircases in frames.
    Who stops on the turn and sees the lifting?
    Silverware and crow’s feet.

    People come and go. Hotel rooms,
    breakfast, silence in the […]

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    I can’t remember if around this pitch
    kite feathers drift across the scrubland,
    but two men with an Alsatian
    walk the perimeter, searching.

    It isn’t safe for children, this public facility,
    with ‘Danger of […]

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    Alex Saynor published a poem on the site Football Poets 2 years ago

    Within the East Stand’s intemperate tropics,
    beneath those apocryphal prawns,
    life is measured by flat perspectives.

    Managers, akin to former prime ministers
    pacing Fife platforms with friendly fire
    and oblique […]

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    Closed books. We simply couldn’t read them.
    Open training sessions traced a line of logic
    across our columns. It was errant. Non-existent.

    The real plan was made behind the double doors
    behind the double doors […]

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Source: http://footballpoets.org/members/alexsaynor/