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The Causes

Denys E. W. Jones

Friday, February 24th, 2006

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 A bite from an apple one morning in Eden.
The worm in the beak of the ravenous raven.
The undersoil heating to stop the pitch freezing.
The Treaty torn up and the Rubicon crossed.
Three Caravels sailing beyond the horizon.
The talent scout trawling through Lower League fixtures.
The doubt-stricken Prince with a skull in the graveyard.
The witches and heretics burned at the stake.
The click of the turnstile, the first chants resounding.
The Hunt for the White Whale. The Charge of the Light Horse.
The Maiden-Trip-Liner’s blind date with the Iceberg.
The lovers entwined in a pine-wood at dusk.
The name pencilled in then struck out on the teamsheet.
The Birth of the Blues. The Demise of the Dodo.
The Ego, the Id and the Oedipus Complex.
The coin tossed high spinning till landing tails up.
The rattle of sabres, the Mushroom Cloud billowing.
The pep-talk at Half-Time, the Substitute sent on.
The Dictator hung by his heels in the Piazza.
Pistols at dawn and a bottle of rum.
The crocked Striker’s months in the gym with the Physio.
A man on the moon. A tough woman in Number Ten.
A falcon in flight and the highwayman riding.
The Rise of the Novel. The Fall of the Wall.
The flash of the red card, the trudge to the Dressing Room.
The newborn brat bawling. The swish of the Scythe.
The wheel, the seed-drill, the Satellite TV.
The impudent chip to the edge of the Box.
The Bridge on the Kwai and The Road to Perdition.
The deft dummy sold to a gullible Full-Back.
The bald Linesman’s flag not agreeing to go up.
The space probe devoured by a hungry Black Hole.
The turn on the sixpence, the shot screaming goalward.
The desperate dive of a Keeper well beat.
Every grain of sand in the hourglass.
Every gust of wind, every drop of rain, every flake of snow.
Every solemn-sworn oath. Every forked-tongue lie.
It took all these things to get the Ball into the Net.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 24/2/06
Denys E. W. Jones

© 24/2/06

Notes

This is a re-working of a poem by Jorge Luis Borges entitled Las causas.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-causes/