There is a growing feeling that perhaps Texas is really another country, a place where the skies, the disasters, the diamonds, the politicians, the women, the fortunes, the football players and the murders are all bigger than anywhere else.
quote by Pete Hamill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Three Boys On their Bicycles
Along the quiet back streets pedalling up and down
Three boys on their bicycles in the old country town
The prime years of their lives a decade ahead
The future belong to the youth as has often been said
The magpie on a street tree is fluting his song
As three boys on their bicycles pedal along
Chatting of football stars and the fortunes of their favourite football team
To be great football players they do often daydream
With their football boots slung across the handlebars to the football oval bound
'Tis every young players dream for to be best on ground
At the famed M C G on Grand Final Day
Though that for them over a decade away
Full of young ambition and dreams of renown
They pedal along the back streets of the town.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prairie Rose
(ferry/manzanera)
Texas thats where i
Belong
It seems to me
Texas lonesome star
Shine on
The big country
Texas with open skies
And you
For company
Texas oh prairie rose
How happy
I should be
Hey hey you can take it from me
Hey hey ill be coming, youll see
Hey hey oh what a state to be in
Hey hey youre tantalising me
Texas I will compose
In fancy rhyme
Or just plain prose
Texas a song of praise
To you
Prairie rose
Texas though im not sure
I can explain
Your strange allure
Texas prairie rose -
A crown of thorns
A scented flower
Hey hey id better leave right away
Hey hey I can hear you calling me
Prairie rose
song performed by by Roxy Music
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fragments and Sorrows of Gary Shaw
Man divided?
Extraordinarily multi-sided?
All state football player.
Texas eventual naysayer?
Observer of the offensive?
Notably pensive?
Thoughtful book?
Hallowed culture royally shook?
Envious Howard Cosell and best seller lists proclaimed his veneration?
Hemingway potential of his generation?
Overcome by his inner ghosts -
Only to be so tauntingly close -
Falling into the depths of the perpetually morose!
'They raise cattle and football players in Texas. The cattle are better treated' - the late Gary Shaw in 'Meat on the Hoof'
poem by Hubert Wilson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Country Woman
Country women now, what you gonna do with your life
Country women now, why dont you get out of this life
Leave my life alone
The first time I met you I knew you were the devils daughter
You came on like a river , doin all the things you oughta
Youre a self made women ,baby, not a made-to-order
If you had your way , I know youd make me stay
And that would only bring me down
Country women now, what you gonna do with your life
Country women now, why dont you get out of this life
Leave my life alone
(break)
Country women , country women ,country women
Country women, country women , ahh....
Country women now, what you gonna do with your life
Country women now, why dont you get out of this life
Leave my life alone
Leave my life alone
Country women now , country women now, country women now,
Country women now , country women now, country women now, (fade)
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Football - The most beautiful game
After stepping into the field
there is no way out
even before you start the game
you hear the fans shout
The players then sings their anthem
its football......
the most beautiful game.....
And when the whistle blows
the crowd starts their roar
in the 90 tensed minutes
the players got to score
Football is friendly only in name
because friendliness is not meant for football....
the most beautiful game....
So when the hard tackles go in
and injured fellow goes out
the crowd becomes furious
and starts to shout
Even after breaking one's leg
there seems to be no shame
because its football....
the most beautiful game....
Women Time
Set the women
On the politicians
Watch them run
Watch them scream
The fool them
Declare war on the women
A war they cannot win
With words they cannot spin.
Say!
Say!
Say!
Set the women
On the politicians
They will let them burn
They will let them turn
Ashes in a urn.
Say!
Say!
Say!
These women are firm
Before they go back
They will let them bleed
Till heads get giddy
Giddy, giddy indeed.
Set the women
On the politicians!
poem by Buxton Shippy
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A poem for Football lovers
Football can make you cry
it can also bring you joy
I've played and watched it
as a man and a small boy.
Football has great players
like the one and only Messi
the Argentinian is a genius
I wished he played for Coventry.
Football is the favourite sport
no other game comes anywhere near
in the U.K.it's the number one pastime
just beating fishing and drinking beer.
Football though can be an addiction
it can be on your mind all of the day
your thinking about goals, shots, and saves,
and even talking about it to God when you pray.
So long may Football be played on our planet
even though it has trouble along the way
but just think if there was no Football at all
us fans would have nothing to do on a Saturday!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Why Is It?
It makes me angry when I read
how murders, rapists and drug dealers
can be treated like kings;
even the scroungers of our society
are elevated in stature.
Yet our armed forces,
those brave men and women
who go out to battlefields
are frowned upon
and treated with deprivation
by those who send them to war.
They are the last ones to get help,
substandard help at that.
Yet child murders have praise heaped on them,
given new identities
all because they passed a couple of exams.
If you go and fight for your country,
you are treated with scorn
for doing a duty a lot would not do.
Maybe if they refused to go
were would the politicians be.
They would have to enlist
all those they have treated like kings,
the dregs of our society.
Let them go to war with meagre equipment,
let the enemy take their lives
and save us the job
of having to keep them in a kingly fashion.
Of course this will never happen,
only the brave go to fight
while the cowards stay safe at home
and live off what the brave
should be getting and never get.
29 July 2008
poem by David Harris
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He Feels The Time Is Ripe
Where many do live for local renown
The ageing fringe dweller in the old country town
Has never played football with the local club
And always drinks on his own when he is in the pub.
Since he does not talk about the local club's latest loss or win
He remains an outsider and does not fit in
Though he has lived here for ten years as an outsider he remain
The status of a local he has yet to attain.
He feels a decade of his life enough to have spent here
He will move to the bigger town early next year
This not a town for one such as he an artist and a talented man
More suited to a footballer or a football fan.
In the old country town he does not have a friend
And his stay in the place is coming to an end
In his early to mid fifties his best days long gone
And he feels the time is ripe for him to move on.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The only football players in my time were fellows who really loved to play football. They were not in it for the money. There wasn't much money there. They would have played football for nothing.
quote by Red Grange
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baseball players are smarter than football players. How often do you see a baseball team penalized for too many players on the field
quote by Jim Boulton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Football.
Football.
Some people look at football like it’s some type of idol.
We’ve got bigger issues, like young people who are suicidal.
We are blessed to live in such a place,
Yet we complain that there’s not enough space.
We have so many things in our spoiled lives,
There are some people who massively strive.
So don’t go around yelling about football,
When we’ve got children who stomachs are too small.
Think how blessed you are every day,
And don’t forget who had to go through the most pain.
-Bethany Jeffreys
poem by Bethany Jeffreys
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Suppose Football Does Serve A Purpose
Suppose football does serve a purpose some males do need other interests in their lives
Than working or drinking of alcohol or arguing with or making love to their girl friends or wives
On saturday they go to the football to cheer on their team win or lose
'Tis better for them than going to the local and wasting their money on the booze
At least watching football they won't be losing brain cells as they do when they are on the grog
And next day feeling nauseated and hung over and as sick as a very sick dog
Their partners and wives happy to see them going to the football for to support their football club
They feel that for them it is far better than guzzling down grog at the pub
In football there can be disappointments when your team does not win the game
But for every winner there is a loser and to lose should never be a shame
There's more to life than grog and work and women there is that marvellous game known as football
To you and many others 'tis a passion and your team to you is the greatest team of all.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sameness They Only Embrace
The wealthiest person in the place far from financial renown
And the poorest one is very poor in the poor Country Town
Where everyone knows everyone your business not your own
And even family secrets by everyone else known.
This not a Town for migrants not many migrants live here
The locals do not embrace difference that's how it does appear
But of course there are exceptions though their type in the minority
Who speak out for the fair go in a place of cultural poverty.
Not a place of great commerce and few evolved thinkers live here
In the pubs they talk of work and football between spells of guzzling beer
They feel happy in their sameness it is difference they do fear
Though quite knowledgeable in football and their football heroes they revere.
A small rural Town in the country a few hours drive from anywhere
A place of a small population where many things in common they do share
The people with a fondness for sameness and sameness they only embrace
And if to them you have different interests amongst them you feel out of place.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Football players win football games.
quote by Chuck Knox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Football Farce
Football managers and players should hang their heads in shame,
For what they've done to our traditional football game.
Now sportsmen in the game are a dying breed,
with managers and players getting rich with greed.
Sportsmen! They are not, for they will cheat and connive,
winning free kicks and penalties by taking a dive.
Pushing, pulling and shirts being torn,
Punching and swearing are now the norm.
After a night on drugs and all night boozing,
players get violent if their team is loosing.
The managers aren't any better when staring at defeat,
encouraging players to go out there and cheat.
If the players do wrong and it's plain to see,
the managers will argue and blame the referee.
And now referees are getting in on this shameful act,
with the top premier clubs they've now formed a pact.
If the top club is loosing, then with the last kick of the ball,
the referee gives them a penalty for no good reason at all.
If that doesn't help they commit another dreadful crime,
by giving them another chance by adding on extra time.
The F.A. watches these games and don't seem to mind,
What's up with them? are they totally blind?
The F.A. should now hang their heads in shame,
for they have let money and greed ruin our football game.
That's why I have finally decided to call it a day,
Football ain't getting anymore of my hard earnt pay.
By
Alan Weston
© Copyright Reserved 2007
poem by Alan Weston
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Growing Pain
Im a battleship, frozen by my mothers anger,
Anchored in the north pole sea.
Im a sphinx, stamped on the hilton poster,
Hoping to see the desert.
Im a woman without country or state.
Opening her head to the universe,
Hundred thousand people in me.
Evry day theyre growing,
Evry day theyre feeling.
Hes an infant, blinded from his mothers sorrow,
Crawling in the bleeding sky.
Hes a building, floating in spring air,
Hoping to open his windows.
Hes a man, bound on earth soil,
Reaching his hands to the universe,
Hundred thousand people in him.
Evry day theyre feeling,
Evry day theyre growing.
Growing pain, growing joy,
Growing pain, growing joy.
Growing together, reaching each other.
Growing pain, growing joy,
Growing pain, growing joy.
Growing together, reaching each other.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Growing Pain
Im a battleship, frozen by my mothers anger,
Anchored in the north pole sea.
Im a sphinx, stamped on the hilton poster,
Hoping to see the desert.
Im a woman without country or state.
Opening her head to the universe,
Hundred thousand people in me.
Evry day theyre growing,
Evry day theyre feeling.
Hes an infant, blinded from his mothers sorrow,
Crawling in the bleeding sky.
Hes a building, floating in spring air,
Hoping to open his windows.
Hes a man, bound on earth soil,
Reaching his hands to the universe,
Hundred thousand people in him.
Evry day theyre feeling,
Evry day theyre growing.
Growing pain, growing joy,
Growing pain, growing joy.
Growing together, reaching each other.
Growing pain, growing joy,
Growing pain, growing joy.
Growing together, reaching each other.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In my district back in Texas, significant because we have a big solar panel production plant in Keller, Texas, we have a wind turbine plant in Gainesville, Texas, up in Cook Country.
quote by Michael Burgess
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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History is one war after another with a bunch of murders and natural disasters in between.
Sarah Vowell in Assassination Vacation
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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