Poetry Archives
This archive contains every poem that has been published on Football Poets. They are listed ten-per-page in reverse chronological order so the most recent poems appear first. Click or tap the arrows in the corners of the page to navigate between pages. It's easier to use the search form below to find a specific poem.
Search Poems
It could be but probably won’t for West Ham
Stranger things have been known
To happen
The parting of the Red Sea
Now who would have thought it?
Man on the moon
Everest conquered
Concorde crossing
In record time
Tomorrow West Ham
Face the most
Formidable obstacle
A German team on fire
Combustible properties
Up front, on the wing
And the midfield concoction
Bayern Leverkusen
Champions of Germany
Just irresistible
Even Munich and
Borussia Dortmund
Could only stare
Up at the mountain
On high
Where Leverkusen
Break sound barriers,
Boundaries
Broken at long last
You’d like to believe
In miracles and omens
But these have to be
The final pages of
Emotion dripping
With yet more poignancy
Since it could have
Been a night for Rice
To double his money
In European currency
As we now know though
Arsenal and Arteta
Offered art and
Aesthetic value
Declan couldn’t resist
The Champions League
Bugle and rallying call
So West Ham
Are now back on the
Europa League trail
Sadly, though the plaintive
Cries of defeat
And the final curtain
Will fall on this
Most rewarding journey
That took in perfect
Prague, last June
In the lower tier of
Euro Conference football
The ecstasies and agonies
Trials and tribulations
All printed on the
Claret and blue
Chronicles for eternity
Fiorentina it had to be
Those special and epic
Nights of fond reminiscence
For all seasons, years
Days, months and weeks
Something to tell the grandchildren
For they’ll never forget
That night
Even though still mastering
Football’s versatile vocabulary
And playing in the garden
Of innocence and three and in
Can they please have their
Ball back?
They’ll cling onto East End
Optimism knowing in their
Hearts that
This could be the final concert
For the West Ham orchestra
It could and probably will
Be Goodnight in Leverkusen
But West Ham
It was indeed fun
And besides we’ll
Always have a European
Trophy to rejoice
Over and over again
What’s it all about, Alfie?
When a player dominates a game
to the extent
that no other could be considered extant….
When a player cruises
beyond bruises
and delivers shock and awe…
and a four purloined score…
how then
to acknowledge any other talent?
“He’s one of our own…..”
Well that’s not Cold Palmer
yet that unerring charmer
has boom-bombed into our hearts….
But it’s a young lad
without too many starts
who came off the pitch at match end
with an even bigger smile on his face
and he has yet to look out of place
when entering the fray….
the young lad can play
and tonight, also opened his account
and no amount
of praise for our outstanding #20
who scored four-a-plenty
can intrude
on younger Master Gilchrist
who’ll go to bed tonight
with his heart a-pounding
after a night outstanding…..
lo, this here certain someone scribing (three times their age)
may yet tonight, take centre stage
as all sorts of dreams
come flying off the page!!!!!!
The 98th Angel
Hold their hand, as today is that day.
Give them a hug, it can go a long way.
Give them your time, lend them an ear.
Because today is that time of year.
Be there to listen, to take in every word.
35 years on, I have my prayers prepared.
Prayers for our red family, who we lost.
And for survivors who still count the cost.
I remember victims too like Ronnie King.
His name to your attention I wish to bring.
On the Memorial, his name is not there.
Ronnie died years later, now in God’s care.
A ’98th Angel’ it wouldn’t be wrong to say.
So today for Ronnie King I will also pray.
Repeat of the 1975 FA Cup Final
No we’re not in the land
Of glam rock, fashion
Crimes against humanity
Flared trousers, denim
And ridiculous platform
Shoes that defied
Imagination and belief
This is not 1975 again
The FA Cup in a 21st
Century incarnation
The Hammers against the
Cottagers
It’s West Ham and Fulham
Reunited by Premier League
Fate and circumstances
Like two army buddies
From friendships long ago
East meets West
London linked by
Perfect geography
Back in the late winters
Of our lives
The Cottagers left
The Irons
Like an ailing industry
Fulham demolish the
Irons battlements
With five of the finest
5-0, yes 5-0
We were stunned
Subdued, deflated,
Startled, silenced
What happened there?
West Ham just dazed
By the Fulham stampede
What would John Lyall,
Ron Greenwood and Alec
Stock thought of this
Iconic score line
Alec as was always the case
Would have giggled lovably
But then composed himself
With a wry smile
But on the day,
Brooking, Bonds, Holland,
Paddon, Lock, Jennings
And Day on his day
While never forgetting
Alan Taylor
Cut the smartest suit
The Rochdale Rocket
For peanuts way
Back when footballers
Were oblivious to greed
And gigantic bank accounts
But back in 1975
Followed entirely different
Cultural themes
The 1970s, oh woe
A historic low
Industrial unrest
Three day weeks
Switch off the power
No electricity Harold
Floodlights dimmed
Candles were the light
Of your and my life
Dickens makes a brief
Comeback, muted applause
At the London Stadium
The Cottage visit royalty
The Queen Elizabeth Olympic
Park awaits its visitors
Her Majesty would have
Been flattered
How we felt honoured
To be part of her
Generation, a game of
Two halves
Today the Hammers
Face the final back straight
Now striving after another
Season of European conquests
Beaten by the Germans
Last Thursday
And surely the end
Of the road is nigh
A top 10 finish surely
Within claret and blue
Capabilities but still
The questions remain
Like scudding grey clouds
Persistent as the April drizzle
Moyes ball
Is still the unpalatable
Bone of contention
Does he stay
Or does he go?
To misquote an old song
Nauseating and awkward
On the eye
Style based on
Well rehearsed counter
Attacks, plodding
And pedestrian
At times,
Passing backwards,
Side to side,
Then across and beyond
The lines
It’s predictable and formulaic
Going nowhere
Pace on the flanks
Crosses galore
But never pretty or painterly
The Upton Park traditionalists
Miss the independent
Free spirits
Sir Trev and Dev,
Swapping erudite mental notes
Brooking floating across the mud
Devonshire slim as a stick
Running in harmony,
Football from the sweetest
Box of Quality Street of
Chocolates,
Deceptive directions
Leading opponents a merry dance
Today though
Lucas surely now
City bound during
The close season
He’ll be at
His most beautiful
And Brazilian on the
Ball
But the Paqueta mind
Is totally preoccupied
With Premier League
Trophies
Soucek, steady and
Sturdy but surely
Our best Czech mate
But running out of
Kings and bishops
Tomas, call a cab
For East End departure
Bowen a fundamental cog
In claret and blue
Jarrod, jaunty and goals
Galore, gallivanting here
And there
A vitally important
Component in the
West Ham machinery
So West Ham
It’s the last run into
The cricket season
A sequence of sixes and fours
Would be more than welcome
But realistically not
Top 10
That’ll do
Anfield Protest 11/4/24 (No To Ticket Price Increases)
No flags or banners will fly on the Kop tonight.
On a big European night, such an unusual sight.
The Club have raised ticket prices without a care.
So, no banners big or small, waved high in the air.
No consultations with the LFC Supporters Board.
Well done our club…a massive own goal scored.
All the LFC fan groups protest together as one.
Flags on the Spion Kop tonight, there’ll be none.
No banners waved during ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’.
As all those familiar banners will be left at home.
Tonight not one Koppite will have a flag on show.
To a ticket price increase, we say a resounding NO!
Germany calling
It could be the night of nights
But probably won’t be
When push comes to a shove
West Ham
Germany calling
Your country needs you
To be present and correct
Possibly a match too far
Bayern Leverkusen
Racing away with the
Bundesliga
A force of nature
Like a runaway train
Unbeaten since the
Beginning of time
Seemingly so
It could be a formality
For our Teutonic opponents
No real point in turning up
At the lavish German spectacle
Silently Hammers
Resigning themselves to
What will be will be
It was a pleasure
To be associated with
European company
But unless the fates
Know something different
Then tonight marks
The exit point for West Ham
And yet who knows?
Since Liverpool were once
Three down in a Champions League Final
And miraculously won
Against the odds
But harsh reality should intrude
Tonight, yes, the final swansong
For those battle hardened
Warriors from the East End
London Stadium crusaders
We’ll settle for Prague
Last June
Something to salivate over
And pinch ourselves with joy
We’ll take that stirring run
From Jarred Bowen
Head down on goal
Clean through
Before emphatically planting
The ball into the net
West Ham Euro Conference
Memories like golden ingots
Winners of the trophy
We thought we’d never see again
But did
Bayern Leverkusen
We can see you
And although we’d
Like to believe
We might be able to
Embrace this wondrous
Challenge
Realistically not
And yet who’d have
Thought the United States
Could ever beat England
In World Cup conflicts
Of 74 years ago
It materialised before
Our eyes
And dazed astonishment
Ensued
America beat England
The country we’d assumed
Would just crumble
Under the relentless
Onslaught of goals
From England’s green
And pleasant land
So West Ham
David Moyes
Before Lucas Paqueta
Finally decides to
Call it a day
In the East End of London
One more trophy perhaps
Wishful thinking
But then some walked on water
You never, ever know
Cirrus Never Whispers
‘Be quiet; the weather’s on the night news.’
Stephen Malkmus, Watery, Domestic
Cirrus never whispers, or was that Texas?
What you really meant was cumulonimbus
with deep grey future rain around its base.
How it was heaving, piled up like a mountain range,
future stories blurred in heaviness
through the onrush of torrential rain.
Mystic currents or predictable science,
how suddenly the air cools and leaves pick up
through whistle-punctuated silence.
Now air, spinning round a shifted vortex
leads its life outside the barricades
which needed to be pre-prepared.
The fog of rain left hope unleavened
and in the fog we said our prayers
to whomsoever conducts from silence
this aberration among beige apartments
conditioned for sun. Then the rain
in intermittent tranches rinsed mud
down gulleys, goals lifted in the wind,
their metal frames travelling, stones
assailed our faces as yours dug in
with teeth through heavy clothing
to somehow survive this wind
and rain and hail of everything.
Updated Hokey Cokey
You take ten points off.
You give four points back.
Off, back, off, back,
You hang ’em on a rack.
You do the Hokey Cokey,
And you turn around,
Is that what it’s all about?
You take two more off.
Two more docked.
Off, docked, off, docked,
It’s way over the top.
It isn’t okey dokey,
It’s right out of bounds,
What is this all about?
Oh the hokey cokey.
Oh the hokey cokey.
Oh the hokey cokey.
How much more can we take?
8/4/24
Denys E. W. Jones
Joe Kinnear- a tribute
Joe Kinnear always in the know
Farewell to the show
To the football pitch
Never kitsch
Joe Kinnear
Where the White Hart Lane
Purists were in mutual appreciation
Of his valuable sense of
Morality which always seemed to
Be the agenda of the day
Joe was always there
Impassable and impenetrable
Safe as the houses
Along the Seven Sisters Road
As reliable as the kettle
That so frequently boiled
Every morning
Where men in training bibs
And tracksuits heavy with
Testosterone and hard graft
The sweat of today, tomorrow
Future generations
Yet to be witnessed
Were permanently infatuated
With that medicine ball
From yesteryear
That almost broke
Your school boots
Like kicking dynamite
But Joe of course
Basked brightly in
The ebb and flow, a paragon of virtue
To those who cared with
Compassion when the chips
Were down for Spurs
A rounded character
Decent geezer in
A dressing room of
Gin and tonic
That restorative boost
To demoralised spirits
Joe brought certainty
Wherever he went
Always there in the
Background noise
Assurance personified
Never flustered
Just business like
Hard but flair and fair
When John Pratt
Mopped up the wreckage
And then
Steve Perryman
Was still refining his craft
Joe brought a glow
To the tools of his trade
Self made, his own person
And then the playtime
Of his well rewarded career
Faded into the woodwork of
Those noisy tunnels
From whence Joe emerged
With the distinction of
A Saturday lord of his manor
His manor, his chivalrous domain
Guarding his front door
With lock and key
Never moved from his spot
Spurs through and through
Manager of Wimbledon
But never common
A don amongst dons
Suitably qualified for
That much maligned job
Since nobody ever seemed
To have time for
For those who once
Stood at Plough Lane
But Joe Kinnear
Football will of course
Will miss you
Unquestioningly so
Rest in peace Joe Kinnear
The Man In Black
Of footy in the 60’/ 70’S, I’ve been looking back.
Nobody took much notice of ‘the man in black’
Those were the greatest days it has to be said.
They carried a notebook and cards yellow and red.
What else do you need to referee a footy game?
The referees never became a household name.
The best Refs, you hardly noticed were even there.
For the spotlight and stardom they didn’t care.
The Refs back then, seemed a decent, likeable lot.
Help from the linesmen was all they needed or got.
Referees just did their best and for not much pay.
They got stuff wrong, that’s human nature I’d say!
Some decisions, you’d lose, some you would win.
At the end of the day, fans just took it on the chin.
Players moved on too when the final whistle blew.
I miss those days of football… do you miss them too?
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!
My Account
Latest Poems
joe morris
17th April 2024
Clik The Mouse
15th April 2024
Mike Bartram
15th April 2024
joe morris
14th April 2024
Mike Bartram
11th April 2024
joe morris
11th April 2024
Alex Saynor
9th April 2024
Denys E. W. Jones
8th April 2024
joe morris
8th April 2024
Mike Bartram
3rd April 2024
Crispin’s Corner
In Memoriam
Kick It Out & Christmas Truce
Latest Comments
19th March 2024 at 8:00 am
Hi Crispin. Chris Sutton on the radio has gone for a Chelsea v Coventry final. As we know anything can happen in the Cup, and I reckon we can go to the final.
We’re still in with a chance of the play offs too, so lots to go for.
See in context
19th March 2024 at 7:41 am
Hey Kev
Let the masses drool over their odds on City v Unted Final, but who knows how pressure can hit.
Cov and Chels will be rightly labelled as having no chance..but hey …stranger things have happened..
so Chelsea v Coventry…that’s the Final for us!
Best
C
See in context
29th January 2024 at 10:03 pm
Hi Crispin,
How are you doing mate? Yes, you’re probably right but hey football is all about emotion and passion and I just love writing about the game. I try to keep my poetry to a reasonable length but there’s so much to write about the game and its literature just lends itself naturally to poetry. Sometimes I just get completely carried and I do apologise for the length of my poetry but it’s a great thrill to be associated with Football Poets.
Cheers mate
Joe
See in context
10th January 2024 at 7:52 pm
You’re right of course Joe but…..it’s actually more of a big welcome break for everyone who is not into Premier League ..I’m talking fans of EFL National League and below…..
Btw …is this actually your longest poem ever !?
Best
Crispin
See in context
8th January 2024 at 4:45 pm
Thanks!
See in context
8th January 2024 at 10:42 am
There’s something so evocative and nostalgic for football fans the world over, in ‘revisiting’ old lost grounds.
Occasionally some remnants remain, with perhaps part of a wall or part or a stand or thre shape of a terrace, but often they are only still there in faded images and in our heads..
Great stuff Graham
See in context
4th January 2024 at 10:13 am
A great idea and well executed. Thanks Graham.
See in context
19th November 2023 at 1:45 pm
Thanks Gacina, glad you liked it, and I have just posted a new one about our points deduction…
See in context
7th November 2023 at 6:34 pm
Today B.B.C post on F.B was titled:Premier League reduced to 18 clubs? I really think it may be interesting to see if this would be Everton’s nightmare and this poem is well suited for this concern.If there would be more difficult battle to stay if there were 18 teams.Great poem and somehow true.
See in context
6th November 2023 at 4:43 pm
Ashington FC have launched a £50,000 Crowdfunder appeal to meet the increased costs of winning promotion last season, to pay for urgent stadium improvements, travel costs and equipment
See in context