A July Welcome
A warm welcome to all the new poets who joined us in the month of July 2005.
And only enough this month to field a five-a-side team!
Obviously, a quiet month. By the time of the next month end, we’ll have welcomed in the new season! (in England)
In time honoured chronological order, the new joiners are as follows …..
Clare Johnson
Andy Maher
Paul Lavender
Joanne Richards
G V Perkins
The following is a selection of their poems.
Starting with Clare Johnson, who would appear to be a member of the media, giving us a different angle on the game.
Clare posted this poem up as her first offering, quite a provocative post, which drew some comments.
Everyone’s entitled to their opinions. I’d go along with some of her points, but felt the jibe at the Football Poets was a little unwarranted – some of the best poems (on a regular basis) are from a welcome stream of female poets.
It’s just another Boys Club
Football is a Boys Club
We’re tolerated aren’t we
Those of us with a little something missing
We who are “the other”
It’s a Boys Club football
And football poetry too
It’s all the same
The only women you see
Working in football
Are decorations
Eye candy they call them
Bagging footballers in their dreams
In the nets for tights
The rest of us
Who understand the offside rule
Who freeze in lines of sneers
And sexist comments we’re meant to hear
Know we’re tolerated just
But we’ll never really belong
Football is a Boys Club.
© Clare
Hiding Bias
I wish I could pretend
That I didn’t support this home team
I’m usually at games that for me
Are neutral
But when our centre forward
Cracked a goal from
All of 30 yards
I flung the press pack in the air
Leaped to the sky
And cheered with the rest
Of the ecstatic home crowd.
© Clare
Just lost it for a moment or two or three or four, usually very professional!
An inaccurate version of footballing history
Sir Matt Busby it was
The first one to die.
He went up to that great soccer pitch in the sky
Who are you? Said the Lord…
I’m Matt Busby, said Matt
The king of United, Old Trafford, all that….
I’m mad about football!
God said with glee
Come here, sit down and talk soccer to me
Then Catterick kicked off
For the game in the clouds
His passing was mourned by the Goodison crowds
And God looked at Harry
Said “Come in, sit down”
“Wer’e talking about Arsenal and Huddersfield Town”
Then Shankly came up
Saw Harry and Matt
And God – in the middle – on his throne he was sat.
And God looked at Shankly
Said ” I know your face”
I’m Bill Shankly” says Bill “And you’re in my place”…..
© Andy Maher 8 July 2005
In 1970, when pre-eminence was with three North Western football clubs, I wrote this poem, having heard the inevitable joke and because my uncle had promised a prize to the best poem produced by me and my three brothers
Hail the Horse (West Bromwich Albion v Portsmouth: May 15th 2005)
The Horse lies left-side-down on green, green turf,
so still that he could almost be asleep,
slowly stretches steel-forged sinews
to extend a studded boot one inch beyond the thin, white line.
Drawn in, as if by magnets, to the Zone,
this questing foot alone betrays his hunger for the fight.
The Horse is beautiful, but he is man not boy,
well past the age when to be young and fabulously fit is all the eye requires.
He is so solid: flesh, bones, dense with strength of purpose.
As he rises, every reflex is responsive; each muscle knows its job.
The eyes are carnivore: all focus, nothing missed;
the roaring crowd might not exist.
The Horse is skipping, darting, dancing on the touchline.
He is limber and alert.
He knows he can deliver, wears the mantle of belief.
It is time; the Horse is ready.
He is stripped down to his stripes,
revealing number nine emblazoned bloody on his back.
Announced by lights, he gains the field,
high-fives a lanky, long-haired lad retreating from the fray,
acknowledges the anthem sung exclusively for him
(to the tune of Bread of Heaven)
Feed the Horse! Feed the Horse! Feed the Horse and he will score.
Feed the Horse and he will score.
This Horse is the last hero in his General’s hand of cards.
He is Praetorian, Imperial, the Panzer tank of strikers:
his purpose is to act – not think:
fearless, unremitting, do or die.
Trot… canter… gallop;
the Horse takes up position, watches for the chance…
… which comes in less than thirty seconds.
Swivel… target… volley…Whoosh!
The stadium erupts into a cataclysm of joy.
There’s football history in the making: the Great Escape is on,
so hail the Horse! Hail the Horse!
Today, he is the one.
© Joanne Richards 22 May 2005
Watching Geof Horsfield warm up to come on for a sub for West Bromwich Abion on survival Sunday, I was inspired. Fortunately, so was he!
The Penalty
The dust has settled
The place has been picked
The goal like a gallows
My neck on the line
The keeper’s eyes
Round like dishes
Trying to suss
Which way to dive
He does his shuffles
Trying to outpsych me
He cracks his knuckles
Trying to entice me
A quick despatch
Catches him offguard
As I send the ball
Low and hard
His despairing fingers
Fail to connect
The ball now nestles
In the back of the net.
© Paul Lavender
the hook
what was it ?
the hook that got you.
a name?
a jumper?
a shout?
a song?
the ground?
the pitch?
a goal?
THAT goal?
THAT thirty yard screamer from the right channel?
what was it that got to you?
what was it?
© G V Perkins
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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Crispin’s Corner
In Memoriam
Kick It Out & Christmas Truce
Latest Comments
19th March 2024 at 8:00 am
Hi Crispin. Chris Sutton on the radio has gone for a Chelsea v Coventry final. As we know anything can happen in the Cup, and I reckon we can go to the final.
We’re still in with a chance of the play offs too, so lots to go for.
See in context
19th March 2024 at 7:41 am
Hey Kev
Let the masses drool over their odds on City v Unted Final, but who knows how pressure can hit.
Cov and Chels will be rightly labelled as having no chance..but hey …stranger things have happened..
so Chelsea v Coventry…that’s the Final for us!
Best
C
See in context
29th January 2024 at 10:03 pm
Hi Crispin,
How are you doing mate? Yes, you’re probably right but hey football is all about emotion and passion and I just love writing about the game. I try to keep my poetry to a reasonable length but there’s so much to write about the game and its literature just lends itself naturally to poetry. Sometimes I just get completely carried and I do apologise for the length of my poetry but it’s a great thrill to be associated with Football Poets.
Cheers mate
Joe
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10th January 2024 at 7:52 pm
You’re right of course Joe but…..it’s actually more of a big welcome break for everyone who is not into Premier League ..I’m talking fans of EFL National League and below…..
Btw …is this actually your longest poem ever !?
Best
Crispin
See in context
8th January 2024 at 4:45 pm
Thanks!
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8th January 2024 at 10:42 am
There’s something so evocative and nostalgic for football fans the world over, in ‘revisiting’ old lost grounds.
Occasionally some remnants remain, with perhaps part of a wall or part or a stand or thre shape of a terrace, but often they are only still there in faded images and in our heads..
Great stuff Graham
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4th January 2024 at 10:13 am
A great idea and well executed. Thanks Graham.
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19th November 2023 at 1:45 pm
Thanks Gacina, glad you liked it, and I have just posted a new one about our points deduction…
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7th November 2023 at 6:34 pm
Today B.B.C post on F.B was titled:Premier League reduced to 18 clubs? I really think it may be interesting to see if this would be Everton’s nightmare and this poem is well suited for this concern.If there would be more difficult battle to stay if there were 18 teams.Great poem and somehow true.
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6th November 2023 at 4:43 pm
Ashington FC have launched a £50,000 Crowdfunder appeal to meet the increased costs of winning promotion last season, to pay for urgent stadium improvements, travel costs and equipment
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