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Poems tagged ‘Aspiration’

West Ham still in contention.

Oh what wondrous delights
What miracles of art and science
The Hammers triumph over West
London neighbours whose harbour,
Nestled in sparkling opulence but then
Chelsea finally beaten on the road,
Stamford Bridge conquered
By the claret and blue troubadours
The East London street carnival,
Against the team whose
Village were once bulldozers
Almost bankruptcy and the
Darkest corners of the old Second
Division when Ken Bates
Donated a quid of his lucrative
Revenue streams now reduced
To scraps of survival,
But today West Ham flattened
The Blues finery and finesse
With their own rich fabrics
Atttacking logically with shameless
Joy, storming the barricades
Rice and Soucek
Midfield engineers
The pistons and pulleys
Driving back the blue
Tidal wave of cogs and
Wheels washing over
The helpless blue barricade
Then Bowen once again
Emerged as the young
Principal of this fluid
Mechanism, dashing here
And there, turning deftly
Then devouring space
Like a hearty banquet
Of meat and potato
Where ankles clashed
Like Roman shields
From ancient battles
Then Manuel, certainly not
Fawlty tucked the penalty
Home for parity
Amid the fleeting fluctuations
Of the game’s mood
West Ham selected their finest
Vintage of Chablis from the
London Stadium’s vineyards
Bowen, a fine bouquet and
Taste of a thousand grapes
Slammed home the equaliser
The Olympic park roof
Eruptions of volcanic claret
And blue lava
Then Arthur right at the end
Achieved the impossible
Defying the laws
Of gravity, a stunning strike
The winner
Chelsea no longer
Blue is the colour
Defeated by the
Stratford operatic
Choirs
Sir Alex Ferguson’s
West Ham way
As relevant as
Greenwich mean time
No longer court
Jesters
Still in the top four.

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West Ham in the top three

Claret and blue, within
Our nervous system
Through the blood vessels
From head to toe
This genetic flight of
Fancy from the cradle
Of childhood and now
But West Ham are
Within touching distance
Of Chelsea and City
Yes indeed it is West Ham
Believe it or not
Of that much ridiculed place
When relegation might have
Been the customary story again
And again
But now it’s all very different
In complete contrast, East London,
Rubbing shoulders with the dinner party
Guests the caviar elite
Among the cream of the crop
Today the former Premier League
Champions finally vanquished
Undermined, Liverpool stopped
In their tracks
This can’t be happening to
These hitherto trapeze artists
Music hall pastiche
This parody of themselves
West Ham, the soul of our
Community, our family of
Football
Always beaten and defeated
Always that heart flutter
Of a thousand mediocrities
Never safe or stable
Wobbling like the precarious
Rock on the cliff edge
Hovering over the precipice
Reliving the days when Bobby,
Martin and Geoff won the Cup
But always out in the wastelands
And wilderness when trophies
Called.
So for this devoted fan
Could this finally be our season
West Ham, divine to behold
In November but so far from us
We can hear the summons but not
On the day, but perhaps the omens
May be just a breath away
It’s third at the moment
And the trumpets are silent
If Bowen and Benrahma
Can execute their faith
In the delicious indulgence
Of an afternoon in May
Antonio full of bustle
And belligerence
Rice whispering subtlety
On the ball and into our ears
Oh West Ham, let the
Cavalry charge
Into our Premier League dreams

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Smilestone

By half-time, be in a with a shout
By end of match, be smiling broadly
By end of season, be happy with whatever you have achieved
If it’s less than planned, be not too aggrieved
If it’s better than designed, slap yourselves on the back
And if ye be Champions, then celebrate magnanimously,
for those subjugated, will themselves, want to be leaders of the pack!

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