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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!

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© Simon Icke

 

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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

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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.

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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

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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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Source: http://footballpoets.org/news/poem-tags/passion/