Football Poets

West Ham- early doors

¶ 1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 The Premier League season
A fortnight old
And yet claret and blue flags
Are flying high
Almost a perfect complement
Of points but not quite
A point by the South Coast promenades
Cherries ripe for the picking
But Dominic Solanke denied
The rich harvest of all three
Then last Sunday the Kensington elite
Were toppled briefly from their perch
But Chelsea are still
Full of classical verse
Pochettino’s peacocks
Still within reach
Of Champions League contention
Never written off lightly
And yet West Ham
Dealt with the Blues domination
In every quarter and blade
Of the lush green August domain
First Nayef Aguerd
The marauder from Morocco
Sent the bullet header
From JWP’s corner
For the East Enders opener
Late Sunday afternoon parishioners
Drink from the cup of vintage
Victory
Chelsea, after a million passes
In neat squares, triangles and
Intricate embroidery
Equalise shortly afterwards
Honours even
For a while at least
But then the Blues turn
A whiter shade of pale
Now where have we heard that
Before?
Scout encampments around the fire
Of the Hammers besieged penalty area
But nothing to declare
Only a passing thought
But nothing there
Then Antonio sees
The chink of light
Amid Chelsea’s
Brazen exhibition
Of quick, quick,
Slow, slow staccato
Another passing carnival
Of fleet feet
Tapping out the code
Goals surely like buses
Three in a row
And hundreds more
Michal Antonio drives
Home the second
From a footloose
Movement from the half way line
West Ham just dazed and incredulous
Two goals in a game
That should have been
Chelsea’s in a gentle canter
But hark this is a London derby
Feisty, niggly, one red card
And the Blues miss from the
Penalty spot
Game now hanging by a thread
Hearts pounding like
Big bass drums
Still finely balanced
Then armed combat leads
To dramatic conclusions
West Ham burst into
Life again
Resurrected from
Surrounding gangs
Of humiliation
Claret and blue invasion
And then the final,
Conclusive trip
Penalty impudently rolled
Into the net
By Paqueta’s alleged gamble
The Brazilian bets the right way
But our Lucas can do no wrong
Not him governor
36 games to go
Shortly the Carabao Cup
Followed by the TV lottery
Of the Europa League
Hold tight Hammers
Advancing towards
Wherever the crows fly
Seize the season
To misquote comic genius

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