BACK TO THE FUTURE: BLAKE AT NUMBER 7.
So was it all worthwhile then? Was it all worthwhile?
Spending all that time, travelling on the train?
Was it all worthwhile, waiting in the waiting rooms,
Penning these lines at 4 o’ clock in the morning
On an empty rainswept station in Exeter?
Was it worth the while then ? Was it time well spent?
Leaving John Betjeman’s sepia tinted seaside haunts,
And leafy, sleepy, hollow lane Devon,
All Thomas Hardy and double cream teas,
And eavesdropped carriage conversations about
“ It’s so dark in that village with all they trees”.
Was it worthwhile to rock and roll
Through the rolling chalk downlands of Wiltshire,
Past the etched white horses and ancient tumuli
Of that ridgewayed stone age landscape,
Before abruptly reaching Betjeman’s modernist Slough
And the great western suburbs of Cobbet’s Great Wen.
Was it worthwhile to travel east and underground
To mysterious watery Shadwell,
Walking under Gustav Dore steam smoked viaducts,
And past Spitalfields weavers’ combinations
And the Brick Lane kaleidoscope of modern London,
A city of 300 languages and countless faiths
And a multitude of tapestries of meaning.
Was it all worthwhile to break my holiday
And play my part by playing a part,
In helping build a new Football Nation,
A Football Nation that has Pride without Prejudice,
Pride without Prejudice in the old iron works,
That is now the Cafe Kick in Shoreditch High Street,
Where a St. George’s Night Special found a packed room
Listening to presentations and song and debate,
About reclaiming the Cross of St. George from the racist right,
So that tomorrow is not for them, but for us,
And where past tradition and future opportunity
Are stitched together in a flag of inclusivity –
So was it all worthwhile to swop Devon’s hollow ways
For London’s mean and chartered streets,
And a Blakean vision of Liberty through Diversity?
By George, it was, for see the angels in the trees,
And see how the flag shines in the dismal rain and cloud,
Its warp and weft weaving a new rainbow island story;
Those Spitalfield handloom artisans and Shoreditch ironworkers
Would be as proud of us as we are proud of them,
As we go back to the future together
And make the future worthwhile.
Many thanks to all at Philosophy Football and especially Mark Perryman for putting on such a great night.
About This Site
Welcome to Football Poets -- a club for all football poets, lovers of football and lovers of (alternative) poetry. Discover poets in every league from respected internationals at the top of their game to young hopefuls in the school playground.
Publish your football poems here and then discuss them with your team mates and fans. We're archived by The British Library, so your masterpieces are in the safe hands of a world-class keeper. What a result!
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Latest Poems
Denys E. W. Jones
30th January 2023
joe morris
29th January 2023
Crispin Thomas
25th January 2023
joe morris
23rd January 2023
Denys E. W. Jones
23rd January 2023
joe morris
14th January 2023
joe morris
8th January 2023
kevin raymond
7th January 2023
joe morris
6th January 2023
Crispin Thomas
6th January 2023
Crispin’s Corner
In Memoriam
Kick It Out & Christmas Truce
Latest Comments
5th December 2022 at 8:11 pm
Stuart, you are not alone, in your dichotomy of doubt
but without dissention
you stand alone
in hogging our attention!
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16th November 2022 at 11:04 am
[Football on soiled turf]
This is a wonderful phrase which I shall be using from now on!
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15th November 2022 at 3:54 pm
Well said Crispin. One of the reasons for The Ball 2022/23 is exactly this – that FIFA need to know. The Ball is essentially a petition to FIFA to honour their commitments to the UN Sports for Climate Action Framework. They signed up; they should act. The Qatar tournament takes the World Cup in the opposite direction to that commitment. And 2026 looks like it’ll be even worse.
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8th November 2022 at 2:06 pm
Hi Guys
Re ‘Lets Boycott Qatar ‘ poem
You probably hate me banging on..and problably know (like me) that my/your not watching the World Cup in Qatar will make no difference.
Of course it won’t. That’s not the point.
OK someone might possibly eventually publish a minimal drop in terrestrial TV viewer numbers, but I fear that is unlikely.
But please above all, do go on writing poems about the World Cup, as/you we have always done. I hate to think a poem or two of mine might l make you feel bad about comenting on a game or country …or that I’ve put you all off about wanting to contribute.
So we’d love to hear from you and read your thoughts and observations, as ever on what’s going on.
Some of us have been here since Football Poets website birth/inception for the Euros 2000 ….
All my best wishes
Crispin
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18th October 2022 at 10:06 am
Shoot! (Something we’ve also been screaming in vain at our team all season !)
Great memories Joe . Before Shoot, it was Roy of the Rovers comic too, dropping through my letterbox.
Anxiously waiting each week to see if they survived in the mexcian jungle after an ambush..or a pre-season earthquake!
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3rd October 2022 at 8:32 pm
Thanks for the kind words Sharon. Yes, it was a shame with Billy Shako, but with five subs now being allowed, he might yet make it off the bench. Even if it’s just a cameo to close out a poem.
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2nd October 2022 at 1:49 pm
John, your new book is an absolute delight and more please. It’s a shame ‘Swapping Shirts With Shakespeare’ never made it off the bench, but quality football poets light up the writing fields like Roman candles. Go well.
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4th September 2022 at 12:42 pm
Great memories Greg. Took me right back.
Today I stand on a small terrace in the hills where I live watching Forest Green Rovers in L1, and keep up with Chelsea on highlights. It’s a far cry and a world away from those times when I lived as a child within walking distance of ‘The Bridge’ – just off the Ifield Road, which led to Fulham Road. The Blues were rubbish for so long, but we loved them and somehow we stayed in the old First Division for so many seasons. And of course we got to see Greavesie at his impudent best, scoring goals for fun. Mad unpredictable games where we’d score 4 and let in five.
The looming floodlights in the dark and mist on magic night games. The big games when the ground heaved.
I don’t think we ever realized how magical and incredible it was back then. The atmosphere and arriving there so early – like you said.. just to make sure you got in. Back when Bovril, tea and cake and roasted peanuts for sixpence a back were just about all on offer.
Good times.
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4th September 2022 at 12:37 pm
see above
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18th August 2022 at 10:20 am
To put it politely!
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