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Glasgow Girl G1 May 2016
I knew he was a player
So, I didn’t get involved
I stayed there on the side-line
But never touched his *****!

I watched him with his other halves
Advantaged by position
He played the field and tackled
This dude was on a mission!

He's scored his final goal
Set up his final long ball
The flag is up, time has been called
He’s found his final fixture!

No more wins, just ties!
TheExpat Jun 2014
Yesterday I played football
Nine young men and one old fool
I gave it my best, my all
Good job there's no offside rule.

My task just the goal to guard
For the ball I duck and dive
This Astroturf is quite hard
Till full time let me survive

Forget the goal, guard my beer
Sipping between shots on goal
Finally the kids appear
This short game, it took its toll
I'm 50+ they are 30'ish Thank goodness the kids took over :-)
Toby Lucas May 2016
A dot outside the circle,
Isolated.
Feeling as if I'm
A puddle on the beach.

So close, almost the ocean.
So close to the sea it needs to join,
Otherwise it will evaporate
Unfinished.

I am the one who waits for the time to speak,
But opens his mouth once the moment passes. Too late.
The tide of conversation has gone out,
Leaving just a puddle on the beach.

When the rain comes to drench the soil,
It's the crop that grows offside,
Not a ****, but un-harvested nonetheless,
That's yearning for a transplant into the greener side.

And if this flower was to be picked,
Would the field realise?
Eventually.
You don't realise something's there until it's gone.
September 2015
CK Baker  May 2017
The Sin Bin
CK Baker May 2017
Five for fighting
hands to the face
personal foul
player disgrace

Illegal contact
leap in the fray
willful head shot
leg astray

Encroachment defense
mouth guard out
roughing the passer
back field bout

Grounding the pigskin
mis-aligned
horse collar tackle
clip from behind

Knee on knee
offside end
unnecessary roughness
too many men

Gross misconduct
poke in the eye
hooking the shooter
sticks up high

Match ejection
over the top
face off folly
penalty shot

Unsportsmanlike conduct
chopping the block
slew foot infraction
hammer lock

Stick to the head
kick in the crotch
**** end jab
adhering the watch

Slashing the d-man
spearing the wing
running the keeper
back checking

Intentional grounding
stoppage in play
punching and hacking
delay of the game

Striking the ref
aggressor in fight
obstructing the line out
ear in a bite

Loss of downs
hands in the ruck
pinching and boarding
illegal upchuck

Rules of the battle
by the bye
pushing the limits
with a wink of an eye
Nothing like the playoffs!
They asked me
What do you see?

I answered

poverty,

shut in the backrooms
sold to the groomers,
I see
Poverty
chalked like a signature
walked over
talked over
ok'd and
then laughed over
lunch,
left over
leftovers,
I
See
do gooders who can't see the wood for the trees,
charities
screaming, another please
I see
disease
Men
on their knees
Girls
selling their souls to
fill in the gaps,
making new roles to play.

Ask me again what I see.

Psychiatry, rude on the streets, why is it me?

Look to the future and what will you be?

You'll be the question unanswered
the thing we don't see,
the orphan we look to
and expect clarity.

****** me Baldrick
don't ya think this a bit sick?

Maybe, says he, but he's not the brightest of buttons on the cutting room floor,
Bollix I can't take
it no more,
I see **** all in the grand scheme except poverty and a *******
now and again.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2016
rub it in... rub it in why don't you? isn't that the point of capitalism, this competitive mentality? why're you looking at me as if i killed your mother with a ******* harmonica?

i love how people regress their national frustrations
into sports - England is perfect with football...
oh? did i poke a beehive just now?
is Brexit for real now? it is now...
apparently one of the Icelandic managers is a
dentist, he just does the coaching in the summer
part time - i was walking for my daily metabolic
dosage of alcohol a little suspicious, acting out
all doom and gloom - well, it's more fun than
paying your taxes or seeking out career promotion
to be honest, after all, abolishing asylums turned
the entire social cohesion stratification into an
asylum, everywhere you go you have the phantoms
of "men in white coats", everywhere, can't ****
in an alley, can't drink a beer in public,
forget adrenaline *** - the entire human potential
of civilisation the Englishman stashed in his semi-detached,
by the way... don't you think that a Londoner will
find himself in lost-territory outside of London?
i love how the S.N.P. are in parliament 'aving a go
at voicing their compulsion for Brussels' choc &
guillotine chop policy - they want in... oh! does this
mean goodbye Jack ol' Boy? really? well, if you need
a ***** might as well be Wales - they're hanging, they're
hanging, and finally the bubble will burst,
why not Union John (like a toilet) or a Union Jeremy?
Union Jeffrey - Jaffas? Jizzum - Jazz?
but they're out for certain, if a bunch of
barbers, carpenters and sheep herders can beat them
living the Leicester City dream, i'm thinking of them being
the second Denmark from 1992 -
i've had so much emotion in my heart that now
i have a ******* headache - go on! a third goal! get in!
bam wam thank you Black Betty, bam ba'h lam.
it's not the football that interests me as much...
you seen the fans? ha ha! *a'woo!
              a'woo!                                    a­'woo!
a'woo!          a'woo!            a'woo! a'woo! a'woo!

mind you the sober wisdom of Alan Shearer
but that ******* chant man! coupling the missing
trill in the English R (how many gym sessions was that
to get the R to not trill? 2000 years and counting?
trickier than a French phlegm hark mind you)
and extending the E, well, the A isn't really necessary,
it's still reel...
*but who the hell decided what vowel goes where
and what vowel goes in anywhere given a change from
i - aye - and í - as in a punctured punctuation of
e    - prolonged -            and c            -
            a variant of        is              i.e.           ís
and not the German                   iß                    -
called a Kama Sutra of tonguing - slightly zeddy -
you really start to get polishing that mahogany table
for starters - no one gave me the rule books,
what's an offside, what's an penalty, etc. etc.,
i'm working at the scrapheap of language -
there was no congregation akin to the Diet of Worms
(ˈʁaɪçstaːk tsuː ˈvɔɐms) - try deciphering this
educated alphabet - upside-down Cyrillic for starters,
a bit of French, Greek iota, then circus without
a sheering process to add the -ta:k, and there too
a gamma is missing due to the softening into a kappa,
tsu;?                     huh?      why not              ßu?
to mind the Chiral (kye-rawl) nature of S and Z?
ich haben, ih blaben blabshen? *****-slap this to Jupiter,
i will... Tao no mayo in this ninja chow mein -
then it just, gets nuts! ɔɐ is what i've been discussing
about the umlaut - could have just written Wörms -
it's not straight arithmetic - it's that ɔɐ... thing...
like woad but more like woo'ed - you sort of have to
speak sideways - wo'o'erms - werms - or
so i thought.
Ardent Bowel  Nov 2012
Hostess
Ardent Bowel Nov 2012
As a child I cried
When denied
Your creamy-white inside
So fresh and benign
You gave me addictive, bloodshot eyes
Like a sugary sweet joyride
I long for you by my side
Comforting lone nights, amply supplied
I could eat you poolside
Or outside
Inside or in a landslide,
Hearthside or in a hayride,
Formerly provided storewide
Now you sit on the offside
Nowhere I can find,
Saddened am I,
To see that Chauncey crocodile has finally dried,
Along with hostess, and died.
http://ardentbowel.wordpress.com
© ardent bowel
TERRY REEVES  May 2016
INFLUENCE
TERRY REEVES May 2016
You have a wife and four daughters
and a colleague amongst your supporters
mindset engineered: you answer a question
with a question and indulge in light sensationalism

My wife befriends many people - a natural star
suddenly they're saying the same things that you are
ideas are pinched, put to use, there's no excuse
for queering my pitch - you stupid *****

No offence meant: I hold myself to account
who am I to hold court, judgemental nonsense
don't say anything, go sit yourself on the fence
come back to me when you have pounds, shillings and pence

Some commontators seem less than cool
it's doubtful if they could explain the offside rule
SJPugsley Apr 2020
In the land of Coleridge and his Ancient Mariner,
    In a time of coal fires, wooden boats and horsepower,
There is a story of the Lynmouth Lifeboat Louisa
    And the night horse and man over 13 miles pulled her.

Two of the afternoon clock struck a chime,
    On January 12th, 1899.
The wind howled and the sea it roared,
    Flooding ports and railways, taking off windows and doors.
The ship, Forest Hall, with masts a three
    Was being towed up Bristol Channel with a crew of 15.
Bound for Liverpool, at St. David’s Head she cast off,
    But the wind, it blew stronger and the waters grew rough.
Suddenly the cable grew taught and then snapped,
    The tugboat immediately came about to get back.
For over an hour they tried to re-fix the line
    But the storm was upon them, they had run out of time.
Captain Uliss made haste to anchor at bay
    But another obstacle was thrown in their way.
The rudder of the Forest Hall was broken by a squall,
    To the mercy of Poseidon and ****** they were all.
The ships’ anchor dragged, no purchase it found
    The ship was headed for Exmoor’s rough ground
At 6:33pm a telegraph was sent
    From Porlock to Lynmouth the Postmaster went
“Large vessel. Distress. Offshore Porlock”
    Five minutes later the first signal rocket went off
Out into the pounding rain they ran
    Those lifeboatmen and locals to lend them a hand
The waves loomed over the watch tower on the pier,
    Then crashed down in fury which deafened the ear
“Tis hopeless” the Coxswain, Jack Crocombe, said he
    “ain’t a crew in the service who could launch safely”
“From a more sheltered station we’ll call a new boat”
    And to the post-office they went, to send a telegraph out
Tap, tap, tap on the Morse key he pressed
    But nothing was happening, there was no line left
Blown down by the storm, and all hope with it,
    “The duty is ours, but we cannot fulfil it”.


Part 2:
“The duty is ours, it’s us or nobody” he shouts
    “it can’t never be nobody, go we must”
The protests did start, and questions did fall,
    But the Coxswain had an answer to silence them all
“Now, I know that we can’t launch her from ‘ere”
    “but it’s thirteen miles to Porlock Weir”
The voices were shouting, no one knew what to do
    But the Second Coxswain’s voice carried on through
“Jack, we’ll need ‘osses, every ‘oss can be spared”
    “if we got enough power, we’ll get her there”
The choice had been made, the die had been cast,
    The crew had a plan, a solution at last
Around came the Lifeboat Louisa, so grand
    Standing 34ft long and 7ft wide on land
3.5 tonnes was her unladen mass
    The add thirteen crew, oars, rigging and two masts
The shafts had been fitted to the carriage with ease,
    Rarely used but kept in the boathouse for needs
The horses were hitched, the carriage coupled on.
    In total, the train was one hundred and thirty foot long
“Right then” said the Coxswain “let’s be off”
    “up Countisbury Hill!” but as soon as they started, they stopped.
The horses did not pull together as a team,
    The wheels were stuck in the parapet, of the bridge over the stream
In minutes it was fixed, and it started again
    This time all horses were pulling the same.
Up Countisbury hill, they walked on and on,
    Until they reached open ground, then the protection was gone
The rain thundered down; the wind raged again
    Still the team kept on going, the pace slow and same.
All of a sudden, the carriage plunged to the right,
    A four-foot wheel came off, then rolled out of sight
“There’s a wheel off!” the cry rang “get them scotches under!”
    It was the front offside wheel that was causing this blunder
Nearly forty minutes it took to replace the wheel
    Still the great storm refused to heel
But then they were off, nearly conquered the hill
    But many more challenges faced them still.
The Blue Ball Inn marks Countisbury Hill peak
    And hot cocoa and brandy helped restore the weak.
Now they pressed on, ten miles to go.
    They were making good progress but painfully slow.


Part 3:
The rain had stopped, the lamps shone bright,
    This brave crew continued through the night.
The party had by now reached Ashton Lane
    Where their troubles soon were to begin again
On this narrow road, the walls were strong and thick
    Impassable for the carriage, but Coxswain Jack had a trick
“We’ll pull the boat through the lane on the skids”
    “The carriage can go o’er the moors with the kids”
So once again horse and train were detached
    A new plan at work, only recently hatched
Eight horses pulled the carriage away,
    Leaving ten to continue to Porlock Bay.
The boat was pulled down Ashton Lane
    Later, all men agreed this was the worst part of the way.
Mud underneath, and walls closing in
    Barely inches to move and soaked to the skin
Boast, horses and carriage finally together again
    Made their way onwards, leaving the lane
Half past one, on that stormy black morn
    County Gate was passed, conversation was born
The crew started talking, spirits, they grew
    But a challenge was coming and this they all knew
Porlock Hill was coming their way,
    Navigating this death path was tricky even in the day.


Part 4:
Porlock Hill, as the locals say
    Is the devil incarnate come night or day
But the brave men from Lynmouth at the top they stopped
    Safety chains, drag ropes and skid pans were fitted against the clock
Four horses at the front to control the bends
    Ten at the back plus men to see this through to the end
Down the twists and turns the crawled
    On the drag ropes and harnesses, man and horse hauled
Round the last corner “We’ve done it!” “We’re down!”
    Sighs let out, smiles put on, it was an inspiring sound
Then all at once, morale took a plunge down,
    As they stared at the entrance to Porlock Town.
Old Widow Washford had a cottage this end,
    It would be impossible for the carriage to round the bend
The wall of the garden would have to come down
    So, the crew started trying to widen the ground
“What are ye thinking at this time o’ night?”
    “How dare ye start bangin! Gave me a fright”
Old Widow Washford’s head poked through the door
    Was there no end to the troubles faced on this moor?
Once again, the Coxswain had the answer and said
    “Don’t worry, we’re just widening the road dear. Go back to bed”
The old woman was dressed and out in a flash
    Shouting encouragement, soon the wall was hashed.
Six inches more, they needed to pass
    The corner of the cottage came off at last.
Five of the clock struck the morning chime,
    For most people here, that was rising time.
Out of the town, and past the Ship Inn
    The last part of their journey was soon to begin.


Part 5:
Half past five when they reached Porlock Weir
    They were soon stopped by people when drew near.
“You can’t go no further” the Anchor Hotel Landlord said
    “the road’s gone, Jack, to the beach, nothing’s left”
Only half a mile stood ‘tween the crew and their goal
    They would not let this stop them, oh no.
The top road they took, almost as narrow as Ashton Lane
    An exercise none of them wanted to repeat again.
The train drew on, till they reached a tree
    An old Laburnum standing between them and the sea.
Down it came and then back on their way
    The light was beginning to turn night to day.
The boat reached the beach, the flares had been lit,
    The ****** poised with their oars, ready to hit.
Holding the stop, Second Coxswain yelled “HAUL”
    And down shot the Louisa, into the squall
The oars struck together, through the roaring sea
    Sails hoisted, oars beating, wind blowing hatefully.

It was on the morning Friday 13th January,
    That Lifeboat Louisa of Lynmouth launched at Porlock from Countisbury.
Ten and a half hours, over thirteen miles
    This crew and their boat had endured many trails
The Forest Hall was reach, her crew all safe
    Back to the mainland they made at pace.


Jack Crocombe, George Richards, Charles Crick, Richard Burgess,
    Richard Ridler, David Crocombe, Bertram Pennicott, William Jarvis.
George Rawle, William Richards and John Ward
    John Riddler, E.J. Peddar and Richard Moore.

All of them crew members on that historic day
    And for this they are remembered in every way.


But I give my thanks to the crew mate who gave this story to me,
    My Great Great Grandfather, Lynmouth Lifeboatman
        William Sellick Pugsley.


Sophie J Pugsley
Great Great Granddaughter of crewmate William Pugsley of the Lynmouth Lifeboat Service.
Paul Hardwick Oct 2015
Today while out on duty
the most surreal thing happened to me
and all this is true
ask the taxi driver
while senking of to have a drag
on vapor ***
noticed a taxi drive sitting on the car park
i was securing for the day
Knowing it would not be used
went of to tell him this carpark will not be use
and as I did leaning in his offside window
felt something rub against me leg
looked down
only a whiled rabit ******* on my foot
said to him look at this there is a rabit sitting on foot
if he had not seen it to I would have thought I was going mad
Buit there it was just sitting there
man weerded things happen to me
no wonder I so surreal.
This story is totally true   P@ul.
have you had strange things happen to you?
The sun rose up to a woken slumber
On the west side of the sky
Not realising it was afternoon
For the people on the earth
Surprised they didn’t know which way to go
On a winter’s day, when not many are outdoors
Was it rise or to set, that the sun chose today
To see if it was alright to go other way
Always a time lapse
somewhere behind,
elastic bands of the
troubled mind.

Young Turks lurk
no money
no work
offside of the law.

There is I am sure
a serenity to find
in the time lapse of
a troubled mind,

Zen,
what then?

and it's not about snap back
chit chat
pictures that
tell me
serenity is there

I need to know where.

Sad a day Saturday
and an easy mistake to make
I take these strings in my stride.

I shall play catch up
to match up the shapes
that shift thoughts that shape me

twisting my tongue around
the troubles that run
away.

— The End —