Poems tagged ‘Short story’
Diplomatic Relations.
Drop a rare old mountain dew
Flask passed twixt a few
Helped keep howling cross field chills at bay
After mass, hastily assembled over The Scrubs,
Few muckers and close bloods
Deemed a proper pukka start to one’s Sunday.
These German students, so they say
Apparently primed for affray in their play
Intended inflicting hurt, right from the off,
Angry screams of, “Oi You! Referee!
Didn’t you see that quare fella kick me”,
Provoking fake angelic postures, or a scoff.
Visiting, The Smoke, on an indiscreet week-end
With her latest in highly questionable dubious men
Dominic’s nan grimaced at every blow he took,
“Holy Mother of J.C, where are yeer specs, referee
How come ye, and yer linesman didn’t see
That big blond galoot, give the child a sly right hook?
I’ve a beady eye on you Blondie
Any more of that, yee’ll be answering to me”,
Dominic’s nan warned the fly Teutonic winger
Whom didn’t seem troubled in the least?
Sporting a smile exposing glistening rows of teeth
Set off by that sign irks all nationalities…the finger.
Approaching respite of half time
Racing along the touch-line
Blonde Adonis seemed a certainty to score
That is, till a sly kick in the shin,
By an old one, enjoying a week-end soiree of sin,
Put the kybosh on, like a deft left to the jaw.
Lying prone on the grass
A discreet kick to your man’s Khyber Pass
Drew banshee like screams indicating proper pain
Helping the poor hurted child to his feet
Dominic’s nan gave his ear a subtle tweak
Smiling at his, hobbling for remainder of the game.
Over plate’s a boiled bacon, spuds and cabbage
Later, on that afternoon, after watching The Big Match
Dominic’s nan, proved her prowess as an able bar-room singer
Her choice in men, might have been a long way off au fait,
Who cares? Sure, tis not every day, your gran provokes affray
As yon German bhoy found out, after giving Dominic’s nan…the finger.
Peace.
Try n stay sage, come what may, and have a right blinding day.
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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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Latest Poems
Denys E. W. Jones
29th June 2025
joe morris
29th June 2025
Crispin Thomas
26th June 2025
joe morris
23rd June 2025
Crispin Thomas
16th June 2025
Gacina Bozidar
15th June 2025
joe morris
15th June 2025
Stuart Butler
13th June 2025
Alex Saynor
13th June 2025
John Gilbert Ellis
7th June 2025
Crispin’s Corner
In Memoriam
Kick It Out & Christmas Truce
Latest Comments
7th June 2025 at 5:57 pm
Very well put! My recent favourite came when visiting Chesterfield. They have the ‘LMD Vacuum Excavation Stand’.
May be if you’re in the vacuum excavation business, it’s a beautiful sounding name.
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24th May 2025 at 7:19 am
Hi Steve
I’ve come across you before on the live poetry circuit…something I’ve also been involved in since the late 90s at slams, gigs and festivals. Did you ever get to Glasto?
I was also at Swindon when José subbed and berated Kevin in a League Cup game for Chelsea….
Salah as you point out went the same way…
Be interesting to see Kev’s next move?
Best
Crispin
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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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