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Poems tagged ‘USA’

Are You Here To Be Part Of It All ? World Cup 26

Crispin Thomas

Friday, May 29th, 2026

it’s starting to get pretty close now
we’re right on the cusp of the start
but with all of the stuff goin’ on in this world
are we poets still up to take part?
we’ve been here before in Russia – Qatar
and we’ve moaned but we’ve penned stuff the same
do we turn a blind eye or just pass it all by
in spite of our love for the game?

there are so many reasons to boycott
but so much to miss if we do
and it feels like a common dilemna
for me and I’m sure for you too
but we’ve kept it a thing since we started
so this is a last minute call
we’d love you to send us your thoughts on the games
to be here and a part of it all

so I write as I wait in this classroom
where we help kids of nine and of ten
and we help with their reading through football
again and and again and again
and I look at their faces of wonder
that I felt when I was their age
for the game that I love and its still beating strong
in their heads on a pitch or some page

and I don’t hear no hint of a boycott
no mention of Trump or Iran
no mention of Gaza or Israel
and how all this killing began
no focus on Putin or Ukraine
though it’s hard to avoid when you’re young
but all that I hear is just how they can’t wait
til this World Cup has fin’lly begun

so whatever you feel in this moment
and whether we rise or we fall
let’s go on this journey together
and just write and be part of it all

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England- Denmark- Netherlands & USA (just!) Advance – WWC ’23

Crispin Thomas

Tuesday, August 1st, 2023

~ China 1-6 England ~

Lionesses purr

roaring through to last sixteen

Lauren James sublime

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~ Haiti 0-2 Denmark ~

Harder shines for Danes

Haiti leave with heads held high

Matildas beware

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~ Portugal 0-0 USA ~

poor from USA

pushed all game by Portugal

just a post away

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~ Vietnam 0-7 Netherlands ~

Dutch in cruise control

find their shooting boots at last

as they top the group

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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To bawl, or not to bawl?

Clik The Mouse

Monday, April 29th, 2019

And so I took my prejudices
And sailed the skies
Across the mighty pond
Growing ever fond
Of the soft marshmallow clouds
That cushioned my mind
Taking me further and further away
From the daily pressures
Of work, work, work
Cleaning, washing, driving
Of chore after chore
And the utter bore
Of Sarriball
As we watch sideways movement
Backwards movement
Tip-tap-toe
With nowhere to go
Because its possession, that’s the obsession.

But I looked and I looked, in this land of plenty
And really, found it absurdly empty, of bourgeoning talent.
I wanted to see the next Clint Dempsey
And certainly someone ten times better, than Matt Miazga.
Maybe Pulisic is the answer
But in his homeland
He might as well be Persil.

And as for bantz?
Mention “Soccer” and mostly you’ll draw a blank.
Yet mention:
“Baseball” – and you’ll be bored to death, by the numerical nerds and their soporific stats
“Basketball” – and its foreign lexicon, of “guards”, “boards” and “rebounds”
“Ice Hockey” – more “guards”, “boards” and…. I couldn’t give a puck

And so of course, the ears prick-up
With the many mentions of … “football”
But every reference is taser’d, by the knowledge that it is anything but…
For it’s all hands, elbows and shoulder pads
And the ball is kicked, by only one, the wimpy one
So how on earth did they alight, on our treasured moniker?
When it is but Rugby light? Rugby re-mastered?
For it is more like Puntball, Shoveball, Heaveball
Gruntball, Groanball, Gridball
Driveball, Flagball, Huddleball,
Scrimmageball, Snapball, Sackball
But certainly not…..
Football

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Remembering Andrés Escobar -Colombia July 2 ’94

Crispin Thomas

Sunday, July 1st, 2018

The World Cup in America, nineteen ninety four,
USA – Colombia, do you recall the score?
While over in the Rose Bowl, with fever running high,
back on the streets, of Medellin, it’s near to do or die.
Colombia were on a roll, the moment it was now,
their road would be to glory, to sweet success somehow.
I speak of Andrés Escobar, I shudder at his name,
the linchpin in a strong defence, and known throughout the game.

They called him ‘Caballero’, the football gentleman,
in soccer-crazy bars and homes, and right across the land.
In front of ninety thousand fans, Colombia / The States,
the stadium heaved to anthem songs, behind the long closed gates.
The minutes gone were thirty three , Colombia’s stubborn wall,
is broken by a hopeful cross, it looked like André’s ball.
But as he stretched to intercept, the ball spun fast away,
it clipped his boot and in the net, it landed on that day.
An own goal of extreme bad luck , the sorry deed was done,
and one that proved, to be his last – Columbia lost two-one.

Their World Cup dream now over, disaster in one game,
while friends stood by, a finger dark sought out the one to blame.
With Med’lin’s current murder rate some twenty odd a day,
his only ever World Cup goal would prove the price to pay.
Eliminated they returned, to jeers instead of praise
and Andres’ goal, cost him his life, within the next ten days .

July the first, a night club, where high up on a hill
they shot him like a dog that night, and Escobar lay killed.
Own goal, own goal, they shouted, as he sat in his car –
at point blank range, six times they fired, outside the Padua Bar.

On Medellin’s streets, they argue still, on such a way to go,
a hit man or a drunken rage, but we will never know.
A country rife with drugs and guns, so meaningless and sad
“How can there be,” his father cried, “.. some people quite so bad…..
that they could kill, my gentle son, that they, his life could take,
all for a moment in a game, all for one brief mistake. ”
And now while politicians and drug lords wine and dine,
the coke cartels and hit men come thick at any time.
Think then upon the price of life – the money and the dream,
those sexy football lifestyles aren’t always how they seem.
And on those dusty pitches on Sundays you can see
by breeze block slums with washing hung, the dream of breaking free.
And still they talk of that World Cup and of the fateful day
when Escobar stretched out too far against the USA.

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WC2018 Day -1 haiku

World Cup Willie

Thursday, June 14th, 2018

history haiku

58 Sweden

Pelé boy wonder
Garrincha wing wizard
routing Swedish hosts

62 Chile

Vava, Garrincha
Earthquake stricken yet on time
Chile such cool hosts

66 England

hat-trick hero Hurst
Ramsey’s wingless wonders
home advantage

70 Mexico

Seleção success
team goal of the century
Pelé to the fore

74 Germany

Cryuff turn, Dutch courage
Brave Jack Taylor first min pen
Mueller claws it back

78 Argentina

Kempes, Ardiles
ticker tape entrances
Junta advantage

82 Spain

Rossi on rampage
Tardelli’s frenzied pash dash
Italy hat-trick

86 Mexico

Hand of God
Mexican wave unveiling
Maradona foremost

90 Italy

Gazza’s tears breaks hearts
Placido’s vocals in tune
Brehme pen success

94 USA

penalty shoot-out
Baggio blasts sky high – lands
in Hudson River

98 France

Ronaldo riddle
Starting or not? Lost the plot?
Zidane headed pair

2002 Japan & South Korea

Hosts so humble
Ronaldo redemption rules
Asiatic first

2006 Germany

Rooney red, Ron wink
Zidane floors Materazzi
bows out as loser

2010 South Africa

Sokker Africa
Vuvuzelas and sunshine
Iniesta smile

2014 Brazil

Germans score seven
vanishing foam used by refs
hosts wish they could

2018 Russia

open tournament
prediction: poised Germany
England: no-hopers

~ # ~

#WC2018 generic Haiku

bright sun radiates
shorts slip on so easily
World Cup fever starts!

wise words on the web
artist alights on the pitch
ball enters the net

sun, moon, stars, align
superstars create and shine
stage set for goalfest

keeper shouts “away!”
ten discordant reactions
frenemies within

everybody
wants to believe it is in
GLT says no

screaming, arms aloft
conviction guaranteed
VAR says no

no-one on the post
quick corner creates havoc
could’ve should’ve

strolls around the park
photogenic and spreads play
darling of the paps

bench-warmer
enters the fray and scores
game changer

shirts, shorts and socks
couturiers run amok
colour by design

formation planning
blanket defence to smother
park the bus

hopes on young shoulders
unburdened by past failures
swivel, shoot, score

proud moments
representing your country
kit included

holding hands
sponsored match mascots
jail otherwise

prettiness required
catwalk stars must shine so bright
Mondial make-up

Lamps: over the line
Diego’s dirty digits
both: truisms

run up to World Cup
undefeated in friendlies
hope springs eternal

football at its best
Nation unto Nation joust
every four years

colour, passion, skill
endeavour, tacticians, rules
fifty shades of play

Form. Storm. Norm. Perform.
Goal: non-elimination
Setting high standards

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Source: https://footballpoets.org/news/poem-tags/usa/