We Welcome in July ….
This July, we welcomed the following new contributors :
William McGonagall
Gary Cassidy
Simon Le Merle
John Spittleworth
David Elder
Keith Oldrey
Brian O’Dowd (all the way from Toronto)
Keith R Castell
Claire Wilson
John McGuire
From St Georges Catholic School, Southampton :
Michael Saint
Luke Barnett-Browne
From the WHU Learning zone :
Joshua Anderson
Tony Hulse
Kevin D’Costa
Usman
Herra Hamza
Mrs Ovasim
Dammy
Shabana I Patel
Salma Musseini
And a sample of some of their work :
4-4-2
I’d heard the squad intended to follow the 442.
I waited at the bus depot,
hoping to follow them.
Nothing materialised
and we didn’t go anywhere.
© Simon Le Merle
THE TERRACE
SOME PEOPLE THINK FOOTBALLS A WAY OF LIFE NOT A SPORT,
THESE ARE TRUE FANS, FANS OF THE FAITHFUL SORT.
FANS THAT GO TO MATCHES TO LIVE THE GAME,
NOT WATCH IT ON TELE IT’S JUST NOT THE SAME.
YOU CANT BEAT THE NOISE AND COMMOTION,
THOUSANDS OF FANS UNDER THE SAME FOOTIE POTION.
EXCHANGING IDEAS & COMMENTS, WHO’S PLAYING WHERE,
IM SURE HE’S STILL INJURED IS THE REF GONA BE FAIR.
IN ALL TYPES OF WEATHER, RAIN SLEET & SNOW,
WE HUDDLE ON THE TERRACE FOR THAT WHISTLE TO BLOW.
THEN LET BATTLE COMMENCE TWO ARMIES OF ELEVEN,
AND JUST FOR THAT MOMENT THE TERRACE FEELS LIKE HEAVEN.
BUT THIS HEAVEN IS CRUEL. THERE ARE MOMENTS OF PAIN,
GASP FOR BREATH CHANCES, THE JUST & THE STRAIN.
SHOTS OF ALMOST ELATION SO MANY NEAR MISSES,
OVERWHELMED BY THE SOUNDS OF BOO’S AND HISSES.
THE FANS ARE MY NEIGHBOURS AND FOOTBALLS MY WIFE,
THE TERRACE IS MY HOME IT’S WHERE I SPEND MOST OF MY LIFE.
SO IF YOURE NOT A TRUE FAN AND YOURE FAITH ONLY A PART,
STAND ON THE TERRACE AND HEAR FOOTBALLS HEART
© MR GARY CASSIDY
The Roar of Lions
Dare we dream?
The sky, clear blue like the iris of some great beholder.
The kin of George prepare for battle royal,
spirits and ambitions of those,
who rally to the cause,
lifted by gusts of expectation.
I sit,
I wait,
my heart trembling
as blood pulses furiously through each vein.
Visions of yesteryear shackle my trepidation.
No fear,
no doubt,
just hope that we might smite the enemy
as in wondrous two score years gone by.
Then twas lord combed-over-rocket-boot
who sent the foe scurrying…
amidst their disarray,
e’en though their class was tributed to all
upon our great blue ball.
The seconds tick,
the minutes drag,
the hours stubborn in their reluctance…
to let go.
Now something else intrudes
upon my solitude.
The roar of lions displaced,
the coming homes no longer play,
the red is whited by a single thought.
Beyond the mirror of optimistic hope
lies a demon more powerful
than any force our fair land ever saw.
A sentiment too bitter to accept,
too ironic to perceive,
the haunting melody of a tune played oft
that pounded sorely through our land…
till penalties were paid,
then laid to rest.
Yet who are we to doubt those there…
while we sit here,
the cursed sons of Henry.
My shame too bitter to admit,
my bed uncomfortable to the touch,
my eyes lowered when she,
the one I love, asks,
“why…
why are you still here?”
Then doubt is cast to the winds,
as one walks down my tree-lined way.
He proudly wears those colours true,
and smiles,
shakes fists at me and you,
sings praises to those deities
that delight on field and screen.
Now silence rules his path,
his intake deep as gasped,
the words pour forth,
a torrent to stir the emotions of all….
ENG-ER-LAND!
© John McGuire 2nd July 2006
I wrote this just 3 hours before the Portugal game. Now, sad… still paying the penalty for my over-optimism.
Ode to a FIFA URN
Who are these coming to the green altar,
What men or gods are these?
With their unwearied mad pursuit
What struggle to succeed
What wild ecstasy
What legend haunts their dreams?
Soccer historian, canst thou express
A tale more famous for our time
That can never fade?
Each English town by river, sea-shore,
Or valley with peaceful village folk
Their souls now only can silent be.
Why they art desolate
This team with fallen garlands drest?
Bold player never canst thou win
Though shooting near the goal.
Yet, do not grieve
The FIFA cup cannot fade.
Though thou hast not thy bliss,
Thou still unravish’d bride of trying,
Thou foster-child of Bobby and ‘66.
Now always and forever young,
All breathing human passion,
Leaves our heart high-sorrowful.
Played games are sweet,
But those unplayed are sweeter.
Therefore, ye players, play on.
Never to bid football adieu
More times to tensely enjoin
Success still waits to be enjoyed.
When old age shall this generation waste,
Will the FIFA cup remain again
Un-won by England?
That is all we on earth want to know,
And all we need to know.
(with help from John Keats)
© Brian O”Dowd
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
John Gilbert Ellis
28th November 2024
joe morris
26th November 2024
Denys E. W. Jones
26th November 2024
Gacina Bozidar
26th November 2024
Wynn Wheldon
26th November 2024
joe morris
17th November 2024
Crispin Thomas
17th November 2024
kevin halls
10th November 2024
joe morris
10th November 2024
Clik The Mouse
10th November 2024
Crispin’s Corner
In Memoriam
Kick It Out & Christmas Truce
Latest Comments
27th November 2024 at 5:55 am
‘You’re Supposed To Be At Home’ is an excellent and moving poem Denys.
You start off thinking it’s just about another oft-sung chant, one we personally heard a lot last season throughout our second relegation in a row here at Forest Green(FGR) ! I always love poems where you think they are saying one thing and then they suddenly pull you deeper to somewhere or something else else.
I’m currently helping in a local school for FGR in a voluntary capacity using football to help young students with reading. At an upcoming session we will tackle racism, just like we did in workshops at football schools and grounds when we first started this site 24 years ago. I’m gonna try and weave your poem into a session.
We’ve added it to the Anti- Racism/Kick It Out section under Crispin’s Corner.
Best C
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26th November 2024 at 1:59 pm
Great poem and great to see you back Wyn.
Don’t leave it so long next time my friend!
More please.
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13th September 2024 at 6:14 pm
Welcome to Football Poets Beth
Great evocative poem Beth….
More please !
Haiku always welcome.
Hope we (FGR) get to play you again soon
Best
Crispin
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26th July 2024 at 6:25 pm
Great poem Mike Bartram. Eddie was a legend, affectionately known in Liverpool as, “the first hooligan.” Even the hoolies were well dressed in those days. The amazing thing was he was only 26 when that picture was taken. He’d played for Everton youth team and was well known to the players. He never got arrested. They threw him out and he climbed back in, just in time for Derek Temples winner.
I used the picture of him being tackled to the ground on the front cover of my book, “Once Upon a rhyme in Football.” It’s worth looking on youtube and finding the re-enactment of the Wembley scene. Frank Skinner and Baddiel went around to Eddies home in the 1990’s and acted it out on the green outside. It’s hilarious, especially all the effort they put in to get Eddie sober enough to shoot the scene.
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10th July 2024 at 6:07 pm
Hi Crispin,
I don’t know if you’ve see the picture in social media today…
a picture of a teenage Lionel Messi cradling a baby in Africa as part of a photoshoot…. the family had won a lottery to have their baby pictured with him….
the photographer has just revealed that the baby is actually in fact Lamine Yamal!!!!
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26th May 2024 at 2:30 pm
Hi Denys…
Re Man City:
OK it was 20 years ago but Criag Wilson did write this and a few others on them back in 04/05.
BTW I’m more Forest Green Rover since 2014 (and Chelsea) these days . I drum and am a standing season ticket holder .
Best
Crispin
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29th April 2024 at 2:47 pm
Hi Denys,
Yes Richard Williams you’re a brilliant wordsmith, my friend. When I first saw your football poetry I thought it was the superb Guardian sports and music writer. I once had the honour of sitting next to Richard Williams while at the Independent on the sports desk. He writes about music and sport with immense knowledge and authority. I’ve read a couple of Richard’s books recently. Great writer rather like you Richard Williams the Pompey fan. Congratulations on promotion.
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28th April 2024 at 5:59 pm
Thanks Denys. Yes your replay poem was superb.
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26th April 2024 at 4:46 pm
Nice work, Joe. You were quick off the mark with that! Good one from Richard Williams too I see.
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25th April 2024 at 7:33 pm
Hi Denys,
Thanks mate. I’ll do it now.
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