"footballers" poems
What a guy!
What a player!
On the field he was the slayer.
The only son, the one to watch.
The one who others tried to match.
He had the looks and physique
A grades at school for all to see.
Now he pays a heavy price
Drinks Jack Daniels every night
For all his life he was pushed
To be valour dictorum in the year book
He had problems so deep inside
He didn't want footballers thighs
He wanted silk and lace with heels
Not the college football kit
If he could have what he dreamed
He'd be a cheerleader on that field
As a boy late at night
He gave his mom a real fright
There he was in her clothes
His father beat him and killed his soul
Years went by and James was wed
So he wore his wife's clothes instead!
Till one day he bought his own
Shaved his legs and went out alone
He bumped into a group of jocks
Who beat him because he wore a frock
Now in the mirror he has scars
That match the hundreds still inside
For James outside to all of you
Was Jayne inside and then showed you
But now at 50 for him to late
To be reasigned and be just Jayne
Times have changed and so have views
If he wants to, let him wear Jimmy Choos
So if any friends I have Called John
Wants to be simply Joanne
Let me know asap
We can celebrate with a drink.
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
Here's one for the gamers
dungeon dwellers, competitors and casual players
Whether they're at home or at a friend,
footballers, car racers or dragon slayers
To the world that looks down on us
for those who's hobbies least appeal
Just because they don't understand the reason
or share the passion we feel
Gamers like acheivements
each to their own
Whether its to vanquish the opposition
build, or break their enemies throne
Is that so different
perhaps they spend a lot of time at home
But isn't playing online with their friends
a little better than just sitting alone on ones phone?
The world of gaming has evolved
and adapted so much
It's a common to see a mother aligning fruit
or a child with a flapping duck
And is it such a bad thing
if the players are actually having fun
It may not be making them better
but I can think of many worse things they could have done
They say games encourage violence
but these people are some of the kindest I've ever seen
Theft, ****** and street racing
would it not be better if these things were only done behind a computer screen?
For many, its more than just a game
and can lead to some desperation
But people need to know the limits
and play in moderation
For some
it's to do things they wouldn't normally do or say on a daily basis
A couch potato wanting to explore the world
avoid boredom, keep their mind from stasis
To feel the breeze of a challenge
drive a fast car or
sword-fight,
maybe even do some parkour
Whether they want to skydive
or skate over a hill
To be able to do something dangerous
without having to sign a medical bill
We all have our reasons
some play casually while others play to vent
E-gaming has become so popular
now hosting world tournaments and many gaming event
This is how we are
so please let us be
Our motives are like captured birds
are we are just setting them free
Whether you want to be a princess
or guardian of a banana tree
You can do whatever you want
just follow your dream
People will always be different
this is just another sub-culture; like fans of a band
But we are the gamers
and by this title proudly we stand
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC
We will never know,
God made the rainbow.
We have rain and snow,
The train just go.
We will never know the whole space,
Discover a new race.
Stars like sun in everyday,
Ghosts to live and stay.
We will have a soul,
Footballers with no goal.
Mens with no feet,
Angels we will meet.
We will live or die?
No treasure to buy.
We love until the end,
We never know my dear friend.
Wamest regards.
Victor Marques
Nov 9, 2010
Nov 9, 2010 at 6:57 AM UTC
Above cushioned wall seats,
Where locals sit with dogs
At their feet,
Hang photos
Of footballers
Smiling still after near-forgotten games;
A farmer stands beside his blue ribbon boar;
Horses tethered to carts,
Near soldiers smiling with
The Republic's grimmace of war.
Outside cobbled streets
Lead to stone bridges
Walls and houses,
Near the shade of umbrella trees.
Turrets stop whispers
Wrapping their heights.
Black, white and fading.
Nine o'clock arrives
And pictures shake
From laughter
And music,
The click of dominoes,
And clink of pints,
In the pub life.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC
when a nation implodes into a civil war,
it is heresy for other nations to intervene,
i didn’t hear of the french intervention
in the english civil war...
or a german intervention in the french civil war...
****** didn’t invade spain, and no african
nation intervened in the american civil war...
or mongolia invading russia via siberia
to save the tsar...
but i guess the concept of
globalisation changed all that,
when western nations forgot that they have
professional armies... while syria
has a liechtenstein / gibraltar army equivalent...
former postmen, cooks, bakers butchers and lawyers
turned professional “footballers;”
i can draw you a dairy cow in crayons if you like,
oozing blood: if this view is too complex to digest -
they do it with passion...
your soldiers do it for a paycheque, get it?
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 9:43 AM UTC
O LOVE! O LOVE! WHY ARE YOU EVER DEVOID OF LOGIC?
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya; [email protected])
Mankind in its pathetic folly entice you in a dint of stupor
Knowing not your true colour and texture
Endeavoring to achieve glory in your mastery
With the so limited human capacity
In grey faith that you are a cradle of bliss
But O love! Why are you ever crooked?
Young men and women in strength of their sinews
Toil day and night in ******* of humanity
Praying and whining incantations with the hope for optimal love
Ornamenting their bodies with diamond and bronze
Fibre and silk ornamented to helm of providence
In the foolish quest for love equillibria
But in full stretch of your vice, you impish love
You catapult all away to the shifted goal posts
O love! O love! Why are you ever ruthless?
You hate the learned but you favour the strong
You hate professors but you favour the soldiers
You hate the rich but you favour the agile
You hate the lawyers but you favour the footballers
You hate the pastors but you favour the ruffian
You hate the whites but you favour the Negroes
You hate the groomed but you love the ragamuffin
You hate the chaste but you favour the mistress
O love! O love! Why are you ever illogical?
Love, I revere you for wickedness and irrationality
In all of your history you scored sum *** laude
In the duo as blend of your domain, Look;
You never dwell in a genuine companionship
You like where the couth will interject;
Amidst fornication between married and single ones
Amidst adultery in the triangle of foul compassion
Amidst miscegenation between black and white
Amidst infatuation between the whole and the lame
Amidst conjugal appetite between the old and the young
Amidst concupiscence between house master and houshelp
Amidst immorality of married master over the wallowing servant
Amidst libidos between literate teacher unto the peasant pupil
Amidst disordered passion among the sly lesbians
Amidst impious ********** among the suave gays
O love! O love! You are the most wicked force!
Love I am told; your colour is red
You may be red or you may not be red
But all in all, you deserve poetical veneration
For your herculean ability to bend the most wise;
In your force you made sagacious Shakespeare to bend
In your force you made Princes Diana to bend and bend
Bending downwardly stooping for Afawoyed the moor,
In your stupefying dint you made Napoleon de Bonaparte
To bend and bend downwardly stooping for Josephine
Josephine a famed she-Casanova in the gone Paris
Among the then humanity and the then animality,
In your impairing machinery you set sons on their fathers
In the roman empire of Antony and Ceaser
In the scramble for Cleopatra, the Egyptian queen
Beauty of her aquiline nose heavily hovered perhaps
In the eyes of the Roman beholders
The father and the son only to sent the empire
To the love forlorn smithereens!
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 5:08 AM UTC
I started watching football when I was eight
At that moment I had everything to hate
The next day I went with the squad
I played with a poor morale
Than as the time passed by
People said Ronaldo in Madrid is *****
Than as the Manuel Neur got the fame
Messi got him chipped later in the game
In June they compared Andre Gomes with James
For real? Thats just lame
Merle said "Football players are like prostitutes"
They said "Giroud comes to show off his beard"
Footballers like Yahya dont even drink beer
While some footballers go to the club when they hit the big time
Tottenham striker said "He cant remember going to a club last time"
Bayern Munich bailed out Dortmund with a loan in the past
Oil money of PSG on Neymar gave me a flabbergast..
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 12:56 PM UTC
Mein Gott! Can't you see,
in the Teutonic light,
What we proudly Sieg Heil
with the torches all gleaming?
The ******** beckons,
through the perilous fight,
Great Deutschland awakens,
not sleeping or dreaming!
On the huge TV screens,
the footballers are seen,
Foul proof through the night
Brave Germany's dream.
O please make that Hakenkreuz banner come first!
We're the land of Sauerkraut, brave home of the Wurst.
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 7:20 AM UTC
Here I write some recipes,
From our anti--football league,
How to cook a football totally,
Must boil it for twelve hours, ritually,
Then you can dice it and fricassee,
Or maybe bake, broil, and grill,
What won't fatten, shall fill,
Or you can make mini-football custard, eh,
Chocolate footballs in a bowl, let's say,
We call it Footy Iles Flotante,
Star sweet in the anti-football restaurant!
Then a recipe for Grand Final Day, swell,
It's called footy Croquembouche Noel!
Hear the anti-footballers yell!
You, too, can write recipes,
For the Anti-football Society,
It's like dining at the Waldorf Astoria,
Anti-football recipes from Melbourne, Victoria!
Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 3:37 PM UTC
Hi everybody I am Briano alliano
And today I have a few poems and jingles for you
Here they are
I love to party up here on Saturn
Enjoying life, mate pretty ****** cool
I drink methane smoothies
And I really really enjoy it yeah
And I have a few fly burgers to share
They are good enough to eat
Eat eat eat
They are such a tasty treat
Treat treat treat
Covid can be annoying
I wish it would go away
Just imagine no afl grand final
In Melbourne that will be a shame
But we must be fucken careful
Oh yeah mate oh yeah
John Howard is in hospital
How long will he be there for
Well some say it is payback
For all the problems he caused the poor
Hey hey baby oh yeah
We must party on oh yeah
Get down to the ground yeah
Everyone party oh yeah mate
We must party oh yeah
And never stop
Our next song is c’mon Aussie c’mon Aussie c’mon
The virus is causing problems for the afl
And keeping out of Victoria will be a shame
Politicians arguing with each other
Like they normally do yeah
Even Barnaby Joyce has to say his piece
Yes an Aussie killed his victims in Christchurch but there is a lot of hurt
Well, he is the biggest **** you ever see
Yes c’mon Aussie c’mon oh yeah
C’mon Aussie c’mon
We must stay in Australia but what happens if you don’t
You end up getting hemeroids up the ***
And then footballers breaking covid 19 laws they just want to go somewhere to drink their beer
That is Australia for ya
Yes go home and your mama
Yes that is so cool yeseree
C’mon Aussie c’mon
Party on Aussie party
Just c’mon Aussie
C’mon oh yeah let’s crack open a beer
And PARTY
The next song is rock and roll devil
I am the devil incarnate
And his advocate
I tell the devil what to do
I stick up for him every day
I know a lot of people don’t believe in him
And a lot of people think he is evil yeah
But when you say you are the devil
You must think
About what your saying
Think about what you are doing
You must party all night
Some people call that the devils work
But that is a load of crap
Like a tree exploding sap
And the devil is told he doesn’t exist
So he brought out his bible
But that was burnt about 1500 years ago
And that is a sign he doesn’t exist
And that makes me the devils advocate to the Christians eyes
Thank you everyone
PARTY ON DUDES
Aug 24, 2020
Aug 24, 2020 at 9:59 PM UTC
Hello, women footballers on Channel Two,
Is there anything you can't do?
And you've each got three degrees too,
But is your biology your destiny for you?
When you meet a man, the one for you,
Do you end up cleaning the loo?
Yes, three degrees coming through,
Girl footy player cleaning the loo!
Hello there, women footballers on Channel Two,
Sad but true, sad but true,
**** it up, biology is destiny for you!!!
Feb 10, 2017
Feb 10, 2017 at 4:54 PM UTC
Poems that make you stare into space
poems that show you another place
passion poems, cherry red, inspiration bouncy bed
poems not to recite to your mother
poems to whisper to your lover
Poems that soar like a bird on the wing
poems that crash before they begin
poems in bars, poems with stars
poems you want to put in a vase
and water
Poems that need a lot of deciphering
poems you see a bit of your life in
poems written by a maniac
for the benefit of an insomniac
Poems with windows to the soul
poems like footballers scoring a goal
poems to savour, make you want more
poems for everyone, poems galore
Poems brief, poems long
poems that seem to go on and on
like this one
Apr 27, 2012
Apr 27, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
Terrible searing pain,
My heart is rendered,
All smiles flee my face,
My country achieves no gain;
Dashed hopes is all we get,
Our beautiful history made in sweat,
The passionate reward is whose to beget?
Alas! my country is no where yet;
It is all slipping away,
Athletes, boxers, weight lifters,
Jumpers, footballers, pin-pongers,
My country struggles all the way;
And at a time,
When change is a rife,
Endless propaganda across the clime,
Perhaps, a good time, to end her life?
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 8:24 AM UTC
We had a fight this morning
But couldn't made up immediately
Then we were off to work
We met on the pitch as rivals
Still upset with each other
Shoving around
Swearing at each other
Like rivals usually do on the pitch
At some point we're so near to
Beat each other up
When he grabbed my **** to provoke me
That really got on my nerves
That I raised my fist at him
"Yeah, go ahead punch me in the face now! Or I'm gonna kiss you on the lips!"
I saw he stared right into my soul
My fist stopped in the air
He did kiss me
The whole stadium went mad
And I didn't know what matters anymore
Yes, you can guess.
We are footballers and rivals on the pitch
Lovers in bed in the dead of night
Feb 14, 2017
Feb 14, 2017 at 12:15 AM UTC
Escaping the threats of death
While in cave, in mom's womb
I say welcome to my abode
Alive you came into a new home
If you don't know, I'm Mr. Life
Embrace me fearlessly above board
I'm that priceless breathe in you
You can't trade me for anything at all
Live me with caution and you'll smile
Regrets are yours when carelessly
I bless some hardworking entity
But the lazy, I say no! no! to success
Bless and fulfilled are those
Whose purpose they've known
Woe to the confused entity in misery
I am a fine wood to the brave carvers
They give a lovely craft out of me
But undeterminable by the cowards
Every professional knows me
Footballers says I'm a goal
If you don't play well, you won't score
Doctors call me Mr. Mysterious!
I confuse their mastery in theaters
Whenever I want to leave they can't
stop
The theologian guys know me
They call me the oldest mystery ever
The breath from the supreme God
The greatest brains tried to no avail
You can't make me artificially
Oh! I'm precious and you know that!
I left the greatest Philosophers ravelled
Till they unravelled the hidden mysteries
They've known as the Mysterious one!
The military respects me fearlessly
They take me from some to save others
I'm Mr. Life, your friend, your smile.
Jul 14, 2020
Jul 14, 2020 at 4:08 AM UTC
I don't do ******* ****** m cat or blue smarties
I don't watch X Factor East enders reality dinner dates or pointless speeches from any pointless political parties
You might think I'm boring
But I'd rather watch a dead snail snoring then suffer with wasteless wannabes' in the jungle, in a house, or in my local ice rink
Building houses , building hopes, and living a day with some sorrowful person with a ********** for all that is pink
Take your Versace your Burberry and stick it where the fake tan don't reach
Do I really need to watch some abstract earthy programme about the newly discovered south America parasitic leech
I don't dye my hair, put on male mascara, carry a man bag or listen to downloads on ridiculous sized headphones
Who won the cup , who slept with who and what royal has now been abducted by aliens who might be the enemy living at number 43
I am saddened and sickened, forced into a life of subjugation, reality tv has gripped our nation, if its not cooking and baking, marriages and undertaking, babies crying, benefit cheats lying, footballers wives, footballers cars, their haircuts and late night shenanigans in expensive bars
A world without a box and images that flash, a world without this disease and it's nasty rash,
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 5:59 PM UTC
Knowing I couldn't take
my silver looking toy
6 shooter to school
I had to make
a pretend gun
out of fingers and thumb
Dennis went one better
and had this quite
imaginative machine gun
between his two
closed fists
and made a
hurthurthurt sound
as he pulled
the pretend trigger
or take from his jacket
a grenade and pulling out
the pin he'd throw it
and go BANG
loudly in the playground
luckily
he was on my side
and with Derek
who had a 6 shooter too
we managed
to continue
our version of WW2
accidentally
in the process
catching the teacher
Miss Ashdown
in the ****
a few times
but she never
seemed to notice
but on the way home
from school
in the late afternoon
Helen said
why do you boys
have to play war games?
why can't you play
skip rope or a catch game?
I looked at her
sideways on
taking in her
two brown plaits of hair
and thick lens glasses
and the grey skirt
and whitish blouse
and she looked at me
kind of serious
frowning
boys do that
they make war
they shoot
the bad guys
they are boys
she wasn't convinced
but the noise
you make too
the drrrrrrrrrrrrrrr sounds
or bang bang noise
we crossed under
the subway
her drrrrrr sound echoed
along the walls
can you imagine
us boys with skip ropes?
or playing catch games?
yes
she said
why not?
we do other stuff
I said
we play card games
I won 13 film star cards
the other day
playing against
some kid
in the playground
and the Monroe one
I swapped
for 3 footballers
we came out along
the New Kent Road
and walked by the cinema
how about coming
to the cinema with me
Saturday
they've got
a good Western on?
she looked
the billboards
with small photographs
can't
haven't any money
she said
I’ll pay
my treat
I said
and where will you
get the money?
she asked
my old man
will cough up
he won't mind
I’ll have to ask my mum
she said
I gazed
at her brown hair
and ribbon
coloured a fading
dull red.
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 3:29 AM UTC
two tribes of footballers
on Wednesday night shall meet
to play for the State of Origin's
championship greet
the three games in the series
always being hard to win
as the sides stage a battle
on the field of league's min
they who follow this most
compelling test of sport
will see tackling and ball carries
so formidable in sort
Maroon and Blue jerseys
striving to conquer each other
by matching motors with
the goal of a triumphant smother
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 12:48 AM UTC
We are the Canadians in Red we are
So stylish and the best you've ever seen
We've just made history today
So sing along we're going to play all night long and we've had to wait untill now
So sit back and watch us play
As the fans sing along and chant we love Canada all day long and and
You'll see how wonderful we've
been big and strong Canadians all year long
And we'll sing Canada, Canada, Canada are the best and we'll show the world the rest stylish skillful singing a night long
We're going to the world cup to battle against the best
We are the Canadians in Red
Singing out loud banging our drums and
Everyone will see our amazing footballers in Qatar and
We have a lot to prove dazzling smiling in the Canadian groove and fighting to prove our worth and
You'll wonder where we've been when you see us Canadians,
Canada Canada Canada
Footballing all the way we're not scared of you today and it's time to move and get into our football groove
Singing and dancing all night long
We are the Canadians, and where set to go
Against you and we can't wait because
We're going to sing our favorite song and drink our favorite beer as you all sing along
And you'll be singing Canada Canada Canada all night long.
Mar 30, 2022
Mar 30, 2022 at 1:32 PM UTC
Fredericks
was a tall kid
who lived opposite
the school.
He had black
straight hair
parted like ******
but without
the moustache.
We weren't friends
just acquaintances
who shared gossip
or new items
or swapped
cigarette cards
of footballers
or movie stars.
One day
he stopped me
outside school.
Hey Coles
you know girls
don't have thingys.
Thingys?
I said.
Yes you know
thingys to *** from.
Kids were passing
going into school
some hung outside
waiting for the bell.
Why not?
Don't know
he said.
How'd you know?
I asked.
He looked back
at his house.
My big brother
has this pin-up
on the door
inside his wardrobe
some **** dame
he said.
How comes
they don't have one?
How do I know
he said.
Maybe it
got a disease
had to have it
taken off
I said.
He didn't
look convinced
don't think so
Coles
he said.
What they
got then?
He shrugged
his shoulders
nothing
just a big bush
he said.
I nodded
looked back
at the school.
You watch
Gunsmoke
with James Arness
last night?
he said.
Yes it was good
I said
but don't think
he's as fast
as Wyatt Earp.
No guess not
or as flashy
as the Cisco Kid
Fredericks said.
A prefect rang
a hand bell
standing on the top
of the outside stairs.
Best go
I said.
Yeah
I might ask
Finn about
the girl's thingy
Fredericks said.
Yeah do that
I said.
He went up
the stairs
two at a time.
I followed
walking slow
that was
something new
I didn't know.
Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 6:52 AM UTC
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Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 7:01 PM UTC
Here is my tribute to anti-football,
We have a secret society, that's all,
Step One: Boil anything ritually,
Ignore football, you can cook tea,
Step Two: Play fave music good and loud,
The anti-footballers shall be proud,
Step Three: Do fave hobby for hours, dears,
While totally ignoring football, cheers,
But I'm thinking about football in this verse,
Could this be a paradox, or worse?
Don't despair, any hobby will do,
Any secret coven of one or two,
Even, "Come and try my ales!"
Shhh, this is a secret, let's say,
Spread your anti-football germs this way!
SHHHHH!!!!
Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 3:29 PM UTC