A March welcome ……
A warm welcome to all the new poets posting in the month of March.
They are, in chronological order ….
Harry Horsman
Robert Jenkins
Dan Hockaday
Campbell
Dean Learner
Noel McGrath
Jimmy Marklove
Hayley Bowman
David Foy
Kevin Raymond
Ron Fairweather
Plus the following, who are all part of the Celtic Writers group :
Lucian Burlingame
Karen McCafferty
Joanne Russell
Ryan JP McGuckin
Val McCafferty
Edwina Docherty
Michael O’Leary
Tracey Nisbett
Joseph Currie
Margaret Porter
The first two features this month are not newcomers, but their talent knocks me out :
Firstly, and I’ve said this before, I’m a sucker for a Dad / Mum slanted poem.
Here’s one from one of the very first poets on this site, Rosemary Dun, making a very welcome return.
Saturday League Football on Durdham Downs
We crunch through toasty autumn leaves.
My Mum and me.
I hold her hand, and we stamp our feet.
She laughs, pulls off my woolly gloves then rubs
my frozen ice-lolly cold fingers.
‘Here comes your Dad,’ she says.
And, with a clatter of studs across tarmac’d path
he’s on the grass;
runs a few steps backwards, waves
And I’m amazed he doesn’t fall over,
especially when Taff slaps him on the back.
‘C’mon Chas.’
Then he’s gone – running down the pitch,
leaving Mum and me to stand on the touchline.
The wind whips my legs red raw in their
long regulation grey socks.
And when I look up into Mum’s smile,
warm as Heinz tomato soup on a tray
with crusty bread roll,
I could forgive her anything.
© Rosemary Dun 2005
Not a new face on the site I know, but time to acknowledge Llew Beaton, who usually posts under the pseudonym ‘Hugh Morris’. Llew is possibly our furthest flung poet. He lives in Cairns in Australia – yet was born in South Africa of Scottish descent.
Weeks later and I’m still giggling away at his following poem – and I thought I was all grown up now!
Wunderbarber
At ze German Football Quiz
In Stuttgart City Hall,
Heinrich B. von Schmellingfaart
Vas cleverest of all..ja!
He vas ze only vun to know
(Being ein University Professor)
Zat Beckenbauer’s barber’s name
Vas of course.. Herr Dresser…
© Llew Beaton 14 March 2005
For your delight and delectation, I’m also highlighting four newcomers.
And also, to counter charges of pro-celtic bias, first up, I’m featuring a Glasgow Rangers fan :
Our Country, Our People
Out come our country
onto the national turf
set to play our biggest rivalry
we’re confident, although it will be tough
I sat next to a guy
who supported an opposing club side
but that night we were friends
because of national pride
Next week our teams meet
and we will be singing different songs
On that day we will not be friends, he’s on the other side
And those are the days, when we forget about national pride.
© Campbell
Well, having won the Carling Cup, as a Chelsea fan myself, I have to include the following short but sweet effort :
Carling Cup
1-NIL DOWN
2-3 UP
WE’VE JUST WON, THE CARLING CUP
© Hayley Bowman
Kevin Raymond, is a printer / writer who covers various topics, and who also occasionally contributes to the Chelsea official magazine – a man after me own heart! Of course, he buttered us up well, by adding about the Football Poets, that “It would be my pleasure to contribute to what is really a cracking site.”
Flattery will get you anywhere!
When Law Back-heeled It In
A deathly silence descended
You could have heard a pin
Drop there on the terraces
When Law back-heeled it in
His career had
Had its up and downs
From Scotland to Turin
All that was yesterdays fish’n’chips
When Law back-heeled it in
In a city so divided
It was City’s turn to win
The Reds were doomed to division two
When Law back-heeled it in
Law looked almost embarrased
He usually had a grin
This time he looked like a man condemned
When he back-heeled it in
He walked back to the centre circle
His heart bled deep within
Here was a man with divided loyalties
When he backed-heeled it in
The game came to its finish
The Reds were down so quickly
Blue Moon was rampant everywhere
In a divided Northern city
A blonde haired man of integrity
Stood silent, then bent down
Tears were held back with an iron will
For ex teams mates across town
He’d never be the same again
One arm aloft and a grin
This was a goal he didn’t want to achieve
When he back-heeled it in
© kjp raymond 2005
I’ve done my best to describe one of the most poignant scenes I’ve ever seen on a football pitch.
Denis Law was at the tail end of his fantastic career and Man Yoo let him join City, he came back to haunt them with a vengeance, one back heel and down they went to the old Division Two!
You couldn’t make it up if you tried!!
peace.
kev.
I also enjoyed this one from Ron Fairweather :
Half time snacks?
Bovril and pies
Pizza and chips
Coffee and tea
Mars bars and crisps
Hotdogs with onions
Burgers with cheese
Fanta and coke
My stomach says PLEASE!!!
Do they really think we want to eat all this stuff ?
Full of sugar, full of fat, full of salt,
That’s Enough!!!!!
So bring your own sannies and bring your own drinks
And that way you’ll be sure, it’s just the football that stinks.
© Ron Fairweather
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!
My Account
Latest Poems
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
kevin raymond
5th January 2023
kevin raymond
4th 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!
See in context
16th November 2022 at 11:04 am
[Football on soiled turf]
This is a wonderful phrase which I shall be using from now on!
See in context
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.
See in context
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
See in context
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!
See in context
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.
See in context
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.
See in context
4th September 2022 at 12:37 pm
see above
See in context
18th August 2022 at 10:20 am
To put it politely!
See in context