Poems tagged ‘Passion’
Touchline Shouting
Touchline shouting, that’s all I ever hear,
I’m so confused and filled with fear.
I’m only ten years old and football should be fun,
But with all this noise I don’t know which way to run.
“Get back in defence!” my manager shouts.
Dad shouts, “Get up front and deal with these louts!”
Loud mouth supporter, who knows all the rules.
(He takes the rest of us for fools)
Shouts, “What are you doing lad? Your head’s in a spin!”
Is it any surprise, with all this din?
I am only a boy, so why do you all try to destroy, what I’d love to enjoy?
FOOTBALL SHOULD BE FUN!
——————————————————————————–
© Simon Icke
Larbi Ben Mbarek: The forgotten genius
The first to strike gold in Europe
Was that famous Black Pearl
Fondly known as Benbarek
To others the Moroccan Earl
El Ouatane aged fourteen
Honed the Black Pearl’s stealth
Two Spanish titles for El Prodigio
Order of Merit after his death
Forty three goals for Stade Français
As Larbi walked the walk
Fifty six as Spain’s Perla Negra
La perle noir du Maroc
From twenty Francs a day
An Iberian prince at Marseille
The first ever “black pearl”
Very high praise from Pele
Eight goals against Southend
A first French cap against Italy
War loomed and Larbi went home
With the arrival of the Nazi
French journalists raged in despair
When Atletico signed a cheque
One wrote; ‘Sell the Eiffel Tower,
But not Ben Barek’
Idéal Club Casablanca and US Marocaine
Stade Français adding spice
Atlético Madrid Los Rojiblancos
Where Larbi won La Liga twice
Nineteen caps for Les Bleus no myth
Danced on dictator Franco’s deck
Bel-Abbès and a stadium named
For Haj Abdelkader Larbi Ben M’barek
number7
© emdad rahman
I bloody HATE rugby
With a middle name of Brynley, and good Welsh blood in my veins,
You’d really think that rugby would be up there in my games.
When I had a one-off chance to play, I thought I’d take a crack,
In the hands of Gavin Lewis, ex-Llandudno Running Back.
This Welsh relief games master quickly formed us in a ring;
He said, we’d have a game and run the ball, and do the ‘passing thing’.
Then suddenly his whistle blew, and I’m down for my first scrum;
And I thought it cool to form a wall, and crouch to push as one.
Then just as I bent low to ground, and braced in solid huddle,
A flash of pain – my lights went out – and brain spun in a fuddle.
Seems some ‘shite’ on the other side had swung from underneath,
And kicked me hard full in the face and loosened up some teeth.
Now, I’d found that I could take a dig when boxing as a lad,
But I’d pay it back with interest; I’d been taught well by my dad.
So sod the game where sneaks can get to hide amongst the bunch;
I would rather play a proper game and see who throws the punch.
But big guys have to play a game, if football’s not for them,
And I understand it fills a need – a sport for ‘mental men’.
I feel that rugby is a mug’s game and requires such little skill;
Come on, it’s charging round a football pitch with ball shaped like a pill.
It’s really just a ‘Satchel Dash’ – a playground bully’s game,
Where kicking touch’s considered skilled and running’s much the same.
So stick your game for gentlemen where your sons will never shine,
You can keep your ‘cauli ear-holes’; you’ve got yours and I’ve got mine.
One year of Jurgen Klopp
Since that start with Rubin Kazan
We’ve had one year of Klopp
Geggenpressen and a new main stand
And proven he’s more than a prop
There’s that four goal Mersey derby win
When the goals just wouldn’t stop
Magical against Dortmund
Like kids in a sweet shop
United in Europe sent packing
LVG soon left in a strop
Two major cup finals
Seville caught us on the hop
Nicely posed at the top end
With a bright and talented crop
Herr Jurgen bellows “Boom!”
As the current king of the Kop
number7
© emdad rahman
War or Peace ?
Insidiously the crepuscular, foetid thought of battle
Lodges in the minds of the forest confederates, know thine enemy.
Shall we wage war and conflict upon our adversaries
Or spread harmony, accord and good will to our foes
Is it a matter that is more momentous than “life or death”
Or are we just dogged in our determination to conquer the field
To vanquish those that are laid bare before us
But to honour those who fall on our hallowed turf
Passion can be confused with anger, rage, conflict and even hatred
But we are stronger than that and support with emotion
Not dullness, indifference or lethargy, so if a warlike tone invades
Do not confuse with loathing, destruction or malevolence.
They are after all only words not deeds
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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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kevin halls
10th November 2024
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10th November 2024
Clik The Mouse
10th November 2024
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29th October 2024
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Latest Comments
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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25th April 2024 at 1:56 pm
Thanks Joe,
you might like to write a poem yourself on the same subject…
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23rd April 2024 at 4:03 pm
Hi Denys
With you all the way on the abolition of FA Cup replays. What are they doing to the game?
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