Football Poets

Bowton win at. Home.
Unusual Saturday.
Or was it a dream?

Three hundred thousand
Quid per week to kick a ball!
More obscene numbers
Taking money from the game
And starving grassroots football.

A new season starts
S’pose we’d better find the ball.
look in the long grass

return of the game
marks the turning of the year,
summer to autumn,
as the faithful now return
to the hallowed stadia.

Bolton to Turf Moor
Burnley fans not welcoming
for local derby.
Local bragging rights at […]

Pie eaters win through
Wiggin take the FA Cup
Out of City’s hands

The North West moves south
Norton Canes makes loads of cash.
Same on the return
Or will fans be rushing back
For that final Northern pint?

Wigan streets ahead
Of their wealthier neighbours?
Hope it continues

Long summer begins
Championship one more year.
A quiet Reebok

Doctor Sir Alex
Finally retires, gives up
The reins of power
Will he now finally use
Concessionary bus pass?

Fickle football fans
booing one week, cheer the next
short term memories

Another talent/
Leaves the ranks of presenters/
To the amateurs./
Farewell to Tony Gubba/
Star amongst the current dross.

Millions:
watching in grounds
watching on tv
pulled in from adverts
sloshing round football.

leaving the game
in players pockets
in agents’ fees
in brown envelopes

in despair
in disgust

grass roots starves

Watch the miilions flow
Just watch the millions flow.
Around and around
From every club and every ground,
Just watch the millions flow.

Watch the millionaires
Just watch the millionaires.
Kick a ball in the […]

Blue Hazard goes home
Having kicked a ballboy’s ribs.
No excuse – a thug,
But Swans fly with heads held high,
Looking forward to Wembley.

With sadness in heart

Football’s sunshine slowly sets

On Fabrice’s game.

GB girls again
shine in Cardiff stadium
showing men the way

Old Trafford boring
GB men grind out result
penalty oh yes.

team GB ladies
open games with great result.
well done to the girls

euro twenty twelve
italy and spanish fans
seek the bragging rights

hope that football wins,
not the players acting skills.
play the ball, not ref!

He couldn’t pass, he couldn’t shoot
He couldn’t use his head
He ran just like a sailor who had lost his wooden leg
He didn’t have no ball control
That anyone could see….
So his mummy made him be a referee […]