Football Poets

joe morris

Hi everybody. My name is Joe Morris and I’ve just made my first attempts at writing poetry generally but I have now written a couple of football poems for your delectation. I support West Ham but hey we’re an endangered species. LOL. I write for pleasure now since I’m now retired on mental health grounds owing to a breakdown in 2012. My wonderfully loving and supportive family are my rock and inspiration. I like to think of myself as humble, very descriptive in my writing and forward thinking.  Here are some of my poems.

Football – on the horizon once more
Like the passing of the seasons
Football, like the clock on the wall
Ticking towards the passions of the
Teeming terraces, the fans return to
Their natural place in the scheme of
Things, wending their way, traipsing
Towards those timeless turnstiles
Heaving with hope, sun lit tunnels
At the other end of August to May
Refrain of old, collective chants and new
chanting the melodies that uncle and
Dad once intoned through cloth capped caps
Then mum once offered her knitted hats
Days when rattles and rosettes flashed
With transient pleasure then contorted
Faces of weather beaten defeat, oh the loss
But then the sudden transition to victory
On Cup Final day, the culmination of it all
But on this Saturday, Sunday and Monday
The random nature of times,
Dates, any chronological order who
Cares, play the Beautiful Game
At midnight and don’t wake up the
Neighbours because the supporters
Will embrace the hour yet again
In the first grievances of the world
Swirl when people bristle at the
Injustices groaning at ongoing
Discomfort on the theatrical stages
Of life, but hey we’ll always have
Football at any time of your choosing
The green carpet of August
Hostilities, then the millionaires
of football’s monied classes
Preside from on high while
Those below flourish their scarves
Cheering under the canopy
Huddled together, cold, warm,
The Bovril masses gathered, the sound
Of those who may never be quiet
For a single moment, bound
Together by vested interests
The fusion of blood ties, wit
And humour wandering through
Our fevered thoughts for
We were biased, devoted
To forlorn causes, relegation
And promotion, goals that
Lighten our moods
Because we were there,
Bitten fingernails to the
Bitter end, timeless and priceless
This is our time to win the League
Now or never time frames
Hopefully savouring the wine
Of triumphant times

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