A Welcome in November
In November 2009, we welcomed the following new contributors to this site :
Obviously, a warm welcome to all, but a particularly warm welcome to Hy, who is Hyacinth Money, an esteemed photographer, the first female photographer issued a pass at Crystal Palace.
Her tale was charmingly told by our Palace friend, John J O’Connor, and now Hy has added her own contribution.
Click on the names above to see that person’s poem(s), or browse some selected first efforts below :
History Revisited
“We were there”, they all would say,
Regaling stories from “their day”,
As if they thought we would not see,
Silverware at LFC,
Now I am not a pessimist,
Thus when the stories did desist,
I did recount quite happily,
Delicious, fictitious memory,
Now “I was there” with crowds en masse,
Rejoicing the incisive pass,
The finish with such poise unseen,
Our cheering to uplift the team,
Against the odds, against the wall,
Booming out our battle call,
Striving for the win we ache,
(Palpitations each mistake!)
And then as if by cosmic force,
With roaring voices going hoarse,
The Reds adhere to our demands,
Causing rapture in the stands,
Final whistle cements the glee!
Opponents treated gracefully,
Family, friends, they start to phone,
For We Will Never Walk Alone
The drinks they flow; the bars we pack,
A Big Red Army, on the attack,
(N.B – No confusion with the “Commy”
This units packed with “Scouser Tommy!)
…But as I wake from such a dream,
It begs the question – It would seem;
Will I ever see for real,
This atmosphere I long to feel?
I think… As if it’s plain to see,
It wasn’t fictitious memory!
Indeed I saw a night so full,
In a far off place called Istanbul
© Mikey Walton
St James’ Park forever…
IF you can keep your name when other clubs
Are losing theirs and blaming it on the latest coup,
If you can trust yourself when Ashley betrays you,
But make allowance for his betrayal too;
If you can wait for him to go and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied to, don’t believe his lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating him,
And yet don’t like, nor talk of Dennis Wise:
If you can dream of promotion – and not make it your master;
If you can drink brown ale – and not make fighting your aim;
If you can meet with Ashley and Llambias – what a disaster
And treat those two impostors with great shame;
If you can hear the Gallowgate sing – then they have spoken
Their bitter memories of McKeag, Gullit and Cort,
If you can watch the team we give our lives to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up again with undying support:
If we can make one heap of all our winnings
And risk it on last seasons’ utter dross,
Relegation a chance to start again at our beginnings
And never breathe a word about our loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after Ashley has gone,
And so hold on lads ‘n’ lasses when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can play Scunthorpe or Swansea and keep your virtue,
Or play with Man U or Chelsea and not lose the common touch,
If neither mackems nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the pitch with determination and grit
With ninety minutes’ worth of distance run,
Yours is (and always will be) St James’ Park and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Geordie, my son!
© Gary Tear
Angry Goals
Angry Goals
They were grunting and chomping like chimpanzees
when the black man got the ball.
“Chuck him some bananas” the crowds were heard to call.
“Hey you black man listen. I’ll tell you what to do
Go and join your brothers in the cages of the zoo.”
I watched the black man closely,
looked for signs of strain.
Does he hear their evil chanting?
Does he feel a stabbing pain?
But his face like chiseled ebony,
not a sinew did he twitch
perhaps their ugly voices
just dissolved above the pitch.
‘Twas many moments later,
without a backward glance,
he thundered the ball in the back of the net
the ‘keeper stood no chance.
As the ball punched a hole in the netting,
so his fists punched a hole in the air
directed towards the now silent crowd
as if to say “you dare!”
And so it was, week after week.
Christ! Will they never let up
but he kept on scoring those angry goals
’till his Team they won the Cup.
The black man was called up for England.
He scored the most goals of all
but the memories still haunted him
he remembered their mocking calls.
But now, it’s a different story
with an England shirt upon his back
they can scroll his name in the Hall of Fame
no one cares if he’s white or black.
© HY Money Nov 8th 2009
www.hymoney.co.uk
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
joe morris
17th April 2024
Clik The Mouse
15th April 2024
Mike Bartram
15th April 2024
joe morris
14th April 2024
Mike Bartram
11th April 2024
joe morris
11th April 2024
Alex Saynor
9th April 2024
Denys E. W. Jones
8th April 2024
joe morris
8th April 2024
Mike Bartram
3rd April 2024
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.
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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
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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
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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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