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Poems tagged ‘Euro 2024’

The Frankfurt Shuffle (How Low Can We Go)

Crispin Thomas

Friday, June 21st, 2024

a poet can’t find words sometimes
the words refuse to flow
like writer’s block where chances
no longer come or go
what is it with our country
are we surprised to see
so many fans to help us on
it sure ain’t new to me ?

the weight of expectation
the anthems and the chants
the upbeat vibe that falls to flat
as we refuse to dance
a band without a frontman
the cautiousness we see
so swiftly can erase the hope
that we tune in to see

where games can be like songs sometimes
we sing through sun and rain
and some can be a mighty voice
running through your brain
while some are like a drum-beat
that rises now and then
or some a moving ballad…
but this was none of them

and quite unlike the anthem
un-freed from desire*
our defence looked terrified
and no-one was on fire
for this one begged the question
just how low can we go
a limbo with no dancers
a team that doesn’t show

you move it to the left a bit
you move it to the right,
you hide within yourself again
and just do that all night…
with no more than a shuffle*
when fans expect the earth
we rue another wasted night
on Frankfurt’s lifting turf

we used to compare England
to watching fresh paint dry
but that was more exciting
than watching this go by
when something isn’t working
it’s time for something new
there’s so much talent on the bench
let’s see what they can do

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Here we go…….Here we go ……..again

David Sanderson

Friday, June 14th, 2024

All aboard for the biannual Wurlitzer
This year it’s set to be one hell of an achterbahnfart -think Alton Towers twister
Who will emerge out of the rest ?
When we know full well that we are far from the best

We sit with our worries on our sofas of eggshells
We polish the hope and sing of the glory
Sucked in by the hype we fly the flags high .
……….then watch those dreams fade and die
It’s such a fragile existence in our Ingerland bubble
We all know there’s gonna be 4 weeks of trouble

Fresh faces impress , Hey Jude it’s what you were made for…
But doors left open , a jigsaw back four
You can plan an attack but where’s the defence ?
No Carlisle Beckenbauer why didn’t they see sense ?
A muddled midfield
Where’s the shield ?

It’s time for a win
Let’s be there in the final
no long hurt summer of rancour and blame
If it’s not to be then keyboard warriors will ignite the flame .

The manager ponderous or measured ?
Let’s pray his selections will come to be treasured
If it’s not this one , then what’s to be done ?
…….back down that well trodden road to square one .

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The Poetry of Euro ’24 & Fooball Poets 2000-2024 (Revisited)

Crispin Thomas

Monday, April 22nd, 2024

so much has happened in our world since last time
but suddenly a tournament draws near
so all we ask is keep your poems flowing
soon so soon it will be here once more
and may our rhymes reflect these times -it’s coming
the poetry of Euro ’24

for in the Spring in Stroud back in Two Thousand
we poets sat outside of Mills Café
and in that courtyard round a wooden table
a plan was hatched that still remains today
where once our football words were only spoken
at gigs or when we’d meet up in some bar
with all our thoughts confined to bits of paper
the chance at last to spread our verses far
the idea seemed preposterous and crazy
perhaps we were indeed the only ones
but with the help of Stuart Dave and from me too
the Football Poets website had begun

we launched in June when Summer brought the Euros
to Belgium and to Netherlands that year
and to our joy the poems came in numbers
from those who loved the game from far and near
and meanwhile in that hazy crazy summer
we stood or sat with eyes glued to those screens
when flags would fly on pubs and cars and buildings
we followed in our numbers with our dreams
and hopes grew stronger though our group looked daunting
that golden day when when we beat Germany
only to lose out to Romania
with that despairing last gasp penalty

we drowned our sorrows barely three days later
and we all swore we’d win the thing next time (!)
so we went down to Glaston’bry for Bowie
and Coldplay played the farm for the first time
before we knew of masks or isolation
before the kind of years that we have known
before our media all became so social
before we could not live without our phones

but we’re still here whichever clubs we follow
and all our words arrive here just the same
reflecting still in voices loud and booming
our love or loathing for the People’s Game
and gladly now we have this site to savour
and thanks to Chrstian* so much for it all
who rehoused all your poems in their thousands
and introduced us all here to ‘The Ball’**

so from that fateful meeting in Two Thousand
the friends we’ve made the journey on the way
we carry on with pride and we remember
the plan we hatched that still remains today

and after everything that we have been through
all since our now last distant Euro year
while all our clubs face final games appraching
so suddenly a tournament draws near …
so all we ask is keep your poems flowing
soon so soon it will be here once more
and may our rhymes reflect these times..it’s coming
the poetry of Euro ’24

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Source: http://footballpoets.org/news/poem-tags/euro-2024/page/2/