Poems tagged ‘3 Lions’
The San Marino rout
England under Gareth, a formidable force
Once again, San Marino crushed like
A bulldozer, Monday evenings
Of cruelty, destruction and carnage
It could have been far more but
Oh for the suffering of humble
Little men in red and yellow
Pitiful rag dolls crumpled under
The weight of England’s stampeding
Feet, fleet of feet, nimble toes
Delicacy personified
10-0, a festival of mathematics
Wild and wanton goals
By the second, minute
Interminably, Citizen Kane
In goal scoring command
Even Tyrone Mings amid
The confetti of goal after
Goal, festooned all over
The history books, records
Broken, like smashed Greek
Plates.
England poised for
Another World Cup destiny
The intervention of fate
May well dictate England’s
Form in the deserts of Qatar
But Saka, Abraham, Bellingham
In the first flush of youth
Will offer heart and soul
The full thrust of their gifts
Upon grandiose stages
In the depths of Saudi
Mid winter when Christmas
Hymnal churches
Pour rhapsodies of religion
Into the warm embrace of
Our hearts, Come on
Gareth, with or without
Waistcoats, a malt whisky
Or mulled wine
When turkeys and families
Unite the global themes
So in England we must trust
That Albania and San Marino
Were like feathers in the wind
Blown away, like the mercurial
Speed of Sancho, who, given
Half the chance will demolish
The great and good, Italy
Because they could be temperamental,
Germany because they can only
Be so thorough and without flaw
Yes San Marino, Of course
It was a stroll in your park
But Brazil and Argentina
Your heritage and swagger
Are ready to fall when
Gareth Southgate’s men
May just, but surely call.
Football Coming Home, Hopefully
It surely will but maybe not
That same anthem ringing
In congested heads, rationalising
The whys, wherefores, mysteries
Of the universe.
Football could be coming home
But that’s a definite as opposed to
Could be. The web of possibilities
The probables that have spun around
In our head for 55 years when
We were barely conscious of life’s
Elegant tapestry, then it was there
At the summit of our hopes
The certainties misted over in
Our questioning minds,
But then suddenly it could just
Be ours, our heirloom for generations
To follow the dowry left behind by the
Aristocrats who were convinced
We could survey our manor
Our domain, chests puffed out
Football was our beef, lamb and
Sunday carvery, the apotheosis of
Saturday afternoons, the height of it all when rattles
Sent us into raptures of lyricism
Then terraces burst into life
Choirs of song, idolatry
The players who were our
Portraits, oils and watercolours
But England was ours to contemplate
Tonight from every village, pub and dining room
Where those learned discussions of Ramsey, Revie
Greenwood, Robson, Taylor were like mirrors and
Reflections on our past, the scene of what might
Have been rather than was
Oh for those moments
Of nail biting intensity
Then blown out of the
Water because of possible
Pre-occupations elsewhere
But we’ll be there, in body and soul,
Veins and arteries in perfect harmony,
Thinking of Sundays when we stopped
Stillness across the land, silence residing
In our heart, on the antimacassar from
Our sofas, from way back when
1966 was the centre of the universe
No need for black and white images
That once lit up theatricality, Coca Cola
London, Mary Quant, a culinary feast
Of swinging London, anything seemed
Within our clutches.
But 2020 or 2021, devout and sincere
Re- write the melancholy script
Gareth Southgate, let us please
Seize the day, carpe diem
Iconic, unique, it’s been far too
Long. wandering along with a
Defiant whistle, defeatist and
Regretful but not this time
We have to win
It’s in the stars, planets
And constellations
Another ambrosial victory
As Germany found to their cost
Let’s drop our coins into the
Trevi fountains of today
Stand proudly above
The thunderous roar
Of the Colosseum when
Romans challenged again
And again.
Football maybe coming home
Let’s hope and then it came to
Pass and pass and pass,
Triumphantly for this evening
When England called.
WC2018 Day 5
Post-match….
stealing yards
and stealing points
does not a criminal make
but it does put a brake
on dashed dreams
it seems
we were just minutes
from another embarrassment
but all thanks to Harry Kane
who deftly heads away the pain
but first
he had to withstand the grappling
with Tunisian wrestlers
yet neither ref nor VAR discerning
which was ominously concerning
~ # ~
Pre-match….
“Pardon Mrs Arden, dog’s in the garden….”
and so was I, most of the weekend
so I only gained glimpses of the gala
to which I add something penned
but I was committed, to pulling weeds
a lá Southgate (Wilshere, Shelvey, Smalling)
landscaping, grooming and
(like Monty Don’s calling)
clearing out a corner (Godin, Gimenez… and hopefully Stones)
and that playful opening line above?
was me reminiscing back to days of yore….
given the date (Father’s Day)
for that was Dad’s favourite ditty
(every time he’d burp or fart)
but as far as I can recollect
it was the only part
he played in my poetic backcloth
but howandever, we’ll reconnect tonight
by phone across the Irish Sea
after (we hope)
a 3 Lions victory
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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joe morris
12th May 2025
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8th May 2025
joe morris
8th May 2025
Mike Bartram
6th May 2025
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4th May 2025
joe morris
4th May 2025
Steven Taylor
30th April 2025
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30th April 2025
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28th April 2025
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28th April 2025
Crispin’s Corner
In Memoriam
Kick It Out & Christmas Truce
Latest Comments
24th April 2025 at 1:05 pm
Hey Denys..love this
“You may be a miner working down a pit.
You may be a rock star playing sold out gigs.
You may be a fireman putting out a blaze.
You may be an inmate chalking off the days. ”
Not just Dylan but maybe an unintentional nod to and shades of Ian Dury’s enigmatic ‘What A Waste’ rhythmic scanning..eg:
I could be the driver in an articulated lorry
I could be a poet I wouldn’t need to worry
I could be a teacher in a classroom full of scholars
I could be the sergeant in a squadron full of wallahs
What a waste
What a waste
Was lucky enough to meet and interview him twice.
Best wishes from Forest Green to Genoa C
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8th March 2025 at 2:34 pm
Thanks Crispin
I’ve been to FGR a couple of times in the past – great food! Barnet look like they have the NL sewn up for this season, but I wish you well for promotion next season.
Regards, Beth
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11th January 2025 at 8:13 am
TO ADD THIS TO THIS POEM’S COMMENT:WELCOME BACK DAVID MOYES!!!
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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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