Football Poets

East London horror show.

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Oh to be of a claret and blue disposition
A hat-trick of disasters
A cacophony of calamities
Reckless defending
West Ham, bottom of the
Premier League, no points
No goals. spineless, still dazed
Crocodile tears and no sympathy
Slumbering in the late August
Soporific warmth and heat
Dozing in the lengthening shadows
Where summer has now left her
Blissful legacy on the year
West Ham, now reminiscent
Of an ancient listed building
Forgotten by progress and
Beaten up, discarded like an
Old Benson and Hedges cigarette
On the old Upton Park Chicken Run
Weather beaten and haggard.
What happened to the world beating
Hammers of last season?
Surely just a blip
We must hope so
Now just grotesquely distorted as
Those ugly images at fairground mirrors
Time for stern re-appraisals
For David Moyes
Serious training ground discussions
Seven new signings but three no
Shows. Don’t panic but be wary
Of relegation rumours and vultures
Bats in the belfry
Lost in the Forest and overwhelmed
By City gents of the Premier League
Champions variety
And now defeated by end of pier
Seaside entertainers
Gulls swooping voraciously
On London Stadium chips.
Brighton, breezy, carefree
West Ham jinxed and hoaxed
By Potter’s finest ceramic
Figures of well crafted
Professionalism
Maybe enough said
Meanwhile Arsenal head
The Premier League in its
Infant cries
Three out of three
Opening salvoes
Gunners grapeshot
Firing on cliched cylinders
Nine goals against the residents
Of the palatial Palace, then outfoxing
the Leicester Light Brigade
Brendan Rodgers can only fantasise
About another Premier League trophy
Then another seaside stroll for the
Galloping Gunners beside the
Red and black deckchairs of Bournemouth
Spurs on the shoulders of their North London
Rivals, blowing fiercely down their noisy
Neighbours necks
Wolves hounded by the past
Palace off the mark properly
Against the clueless Villa
Steven Gerrard struggling for
Crumbs of comfort
But finding none
Whitewashed villa now
Tarnished by the weekend
Claret and blue stains and the
Villa Park slump
Temporary they
Must hope
Lampard’s Everton
Still in turmoil, crisis
Partially lifted by a point
Against the hunters
And gatherers in the Forest
Where Cloughie once
Worked the oracle,
Tangled weeds and bushes
Now cleared for a profitable
Return to Premier League shores
Fulham also back in the big time
The Cottagers industry is alive
And well
Edging London derby
With fellow neighbours
Brentford in five goal
Humdinger deep in the
Cottage but far from overawed
This time Fulham will drop their
Anchor, securely tied to their
Craven Cottage moorings
In Premier League safety
They must wish with bated breath
Foxes of Leicester
Beaten by those saintly
Saints of Southampton
Brendan Rodgers
Must be hoping for
Religious salvation
Premier League winners
Now just a prehistoric footnote
Manchester City surprisingly held
To six goal thriller
By high tempo Newcastle
Eddie Howe’s Geordie
Black and white striped army
Seemingly on the verge of
A bright and lustrous era
Revitalised and refurbished
By millions of Saudi money
Defeats now inexcusable
And finally Leeds
With the Midas touch
Of an American in Yorkshire
Elland Road slowly stretching
The aching limbs of a tortured
Past of the Championship
And League One
Jesse, this is your time
To seize that celebrated day
Over the weekend
Leeds beat Chelsea
Now that used to be a fixture
To treasure and will be once again
Chopper Harris eyeballing
Norman ‘Bites Yer Legs Hunter
With lingering menace
Through the seasons
Leeds now score their own
Personal hat-trick against
The Chelsea without the billions
Of Russian oligarchical money
That once washed over Stamford Bridge
Like a crashing tidal wave
Premier League back to back winners
But the waters are cascading down
The terraces and posh seats
An interesting turn of events
Chelsea may have lost their focus
Yet your Hammers are sinking rapidly
Marooned and stranded at the bottom
Seeking light at the end of the tunnel

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