|

Poems tagged ‘Art of Football’

Ray Kennedy

Ray Kennedy
For those who were
Not of a red persuasion
Be it Liverpool or Arsenal
Ray Kennedy decorated
The Beautiful Game
With ornate patterns
Embellished with rich
Textures of class and
Style, a style icon
Sadly though
Ray Kennedy
Of the parish of
Highbury and Anfield
Died today, nobly
Majestically adorning
The seats of learning
Of football’s finest
Theatres and galleries
Our Ray, cultured feet
So visionary and radical
In his thinking
Seeing by far the bigger
Picture, the wider scheme
Of things,
Constantly imagining
Perceptive angles
A model of trigonometry
On a football pitch
Now there’s a thought
When Charlie George and
George Graham carved
Vivid images at Highbury
And Kenny Dalglish
Fed on a substantial diet
Of goals from the Kennedy
wand of sorcery
Then England came calling
And of course our Ray
Was the metronome
Swinging metrically perfect
Passes into fecund and feverish
Penalty areas
Guiding the ball, cajoling and coaxing
It, breathing life and encouragement
Into the birth of a game
The quiet man, the unfussy man
A man of huge footballing intellect
Towering above the rest with that
Ever present air of upper class
Refinement, a player of cultivated
Bearing, a conductor of all
Orchestral themes
Farewell Ray Kennedy.
Thankyou our friend.

Be the first to leave a comment »

In The Middle Of Europe

So here we are in the middle of
Europa League conferences
Where once the UEFA Cup
Ruled with the rod of iron
When two legs held us in thrall
But tonight it’s Viennese waltzes
For the claret and blue
Thames Ironworks
Strauss without stress
And yet it seems to last for
An eternity with group stages
As long as vinyl record
Albums, drawn out as
Now that winter has
Dawned and the nights
Are blissfully comforting
And David Moyes
Enraptured by London
Stadium symphonies
That caress the discerning
Ears of those bubble blowers
Who may think they’ve seen
And heard it all
But then Sunday will arrive
Like a chariot of old
City and Pep, will the
Hammers tremble with
Fear and trepidation
Or will Sunday be
The day when the mould
Is broken and the Premier
League champions are toppled
From on high and claret and blue
Visions reach for the sky.

Be the first to leave a comment »

Mirth Mayhem & Magic

These groaning bones of life
With chill upon this winter earth
In search of little solstice
And a spruce of football mirth

Keep us from the devil
And his tackling for the soul
For there’s glory in those football boots
Puer grace in every goal

God love you William Shankly
And the truth that hued your team
God hold the hand of Maradona
God bless the head of William Dean

Oh, my well-worn match-day memories
Lo, the pitch of fading green
Fire my heart brimmed up emotion
With the joy that football brings.

Be the first to leave a comment »

A day with orphans!

‘Who’ll hear the orphan’s cry?
‘They’re full of fear and dread’
We took our team on the road
To play football with them instead

Haji Eusuf orphanage, Chattak
We met 53 orphans that day
Zoinul and Moshahid had it all lined up
Rounding off with some sunset play

We took pictures and shared gifts
The orphans smiles put us to shame
We were itching to get on that pitch
To play the beautiful game

So gaffers Shaheed and Mehdi
List two orphan teams on a pad
Favourites Abdal, Waj, Abu, Yarimi
Bench stars Saif, Diya, Emdad

But we didn’t care for big names
The orphans were fighting fit
They ran and ran like Olympians
With us adding our little bit

I had to pull a trick for a goal
But then Yarimi beat the keeper
My shot came off the post
Diya pounced for the winner

With plenty game time left
It was time for a dirty prank
Poor Abdal smashed into the hoardings
Only way to stop that tank

With Abu pulling the strings
Saif was our brick wall
Ref Jay whistled to give us the win
Our orphans stood proud and tall

‘I’ve never seen them so happy,
‘I pray you’re all blessed from above’
A local expressed her feelings
On football spreading the love

At the Human Relief Foundation
Raisah’s match summary
Gobindogonj has played host to
The ‘best game in HRF history’

‘Who’ll hear the orphan’s cry?
‘They’re full of fear and dread’
We took our team on the road
To play football with them instead

number7
© emdad rahman

Be the first to leave a comment »

Painting a poetic purview?

I see it in Monet
with his haystacks
and Rouen Cathedral

I see it in Hokusai
with his 36 views
of Mount Fuji

I see it in the curious cut-outs
of a demiurgic Matisse

“series”

repetition – but with a carefully crafted nuance….

just like keepy-uppys
a succession of association
between body and ball
just like the skill of a brush-stroke; as the torso stipples
and the scapula sculpts
where foot melds, with pigskinned orb
where the knee jounces
the instep cushions
forehead flicks
the thigh stifles
the heel lifts
the sternum softens
and the calf cradles

practice, practice, practice
makes perfect.

Be the first to leave a comment »

Source: https://footballpoets.org/news/poem-tags/art-of-football/