The game
He walks in a grey light.
He does possess loads of might.
He is always kind in a fight.
His style is his delight.
He plays with a football thats dark & white.
He runs so fast that his feet take flight.
He is always away at night.
He must fight in the light.
People admire his fair heart in a fight.
He is always on his game.
He does not care about his name.
Just because he is different doesn't mean he can't live life right.
Do not forget that life is a fight between wrong and right.
Related quotes
The Shepherdess
She walks-the lady of my delight-
A shepherdess of sheep.
Her flocks are thoughts. She keeps them white;
She keeps them from the steep;
She feeds them on the fragrant height,
And folds them in for sleep.
She roams maternal hills and bright,
Dark valleys safe and deep.
Into that tender breast at night
The chastest stars may peep.
She walks-the lady of my delight-
A shepherdess of sheep.
She holds her little thoughts in sight,
Though gay they run and leap.
She is so circumspect and right;
She has her soul to keep.
She walks-the lady of my delight-
A shepherdess of sheep.
poem by Alice Meynell
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The Lady of the Lambs
She walks -- the lady of my delight --
A shepherdess of sheep.
Her flocks are thoughts. She keeps them white;
She guards them from the steep.
She feeds them on the fragrant height,
And folds them in for sleep.
She roams maternal hills and bright,
Dark valleys safe and deep.
Her dreams are innocent at night;
The chastest stars may peep.
She walks -- the lady of my delight --
A shepherdess of sheep.
She holds her little thoughts in sight,
Though gay they run and leap.
She is so circumspect and right;
She has her soul to keep.
She walks -- the lady of my delight --
A shepherdess of sheep.
poem by Alice Meynell
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A World Without Colour
I usually visualise in full colour, but last night
my dreams were in black and white.
There were no shades or hints of grey to be seen,
then suddenly the white disappeared from sight.
I lay waiting for my visual imagination to click in
for I was at a loss in this place without light.
My thought processes were apparently functioning,
and I began to wonder if my mind was alright.
It offered me several uncomfortable explanations,
and that my visual spark was refusing to ignite.
My light going out was another stab in the dark,
but that was illogical and didn’t seem right.
It was impossible trying to imagine without a vision,
but I wasn’t giving up without a fight.
Whilst I was still questioning my mental integrity,
it awakened to bring back the spectrum of pure delight.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Devotion
admiration followed him from the men and women
of the beach as he walks one summer
his skin glowing to the sun: gold
the color of mud, his hair blowing freely
on his head, his steps mellow to the sand
a young maiden from the village follows him
at a distance but not so near bringing him his shirt
neatly folded in her hands-
a little bit angry, she looks at him lifting her eyes
but again not so near
she gives up devotion and throws his shirt
on the grey sand
runs toward the other end of the shore
and disappears
her feet are so tiny leaving this awkward
cloud when she runs away from him
he sees her vanish
ignoring what cloud she left from her tiny feet
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Grey, Grey Sky
Someday I will ride the great bird
Into the sky, into the grey
And will take a bright secret of mine
Into the grey, grey sky.
And the light will come, piercing my eyes
Out of the sky, out of the grey
Come blinding and searing these eyes
Out of the grey, grey sky.
And I will find comfort in this
In the wide sky, in the wide grey
In the painful dark brightness of light
Light of the grey, grey sky.
My secret will fly away home
Into the sky, into the grey
And the great bird will follow it there
Into the grey, grey sky.
And I will be riding that bird
Bird of the sky, bird of the grey
And I will come home once again
Home to the grey, grey sky.
But for now I am weighted, earthbound
One of the mud, one of the ground
And I write this sad song to sad sound
Girl of the pavement sighs.
poem by Grace Hutton
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You, the Dark
Dark, She is the mind of yours.
Icy chill of thought becomes
A steely shimmer.
Behold a glimmer in the black -
A flash of grey, that even glows
In show against the hallowed dark of you.
And that is why you scream in jarring tones
'I have no heart for joy!
My white and brittle bones have died'
You cried in dark and fractured moans.
So now the Queen of Black you writhe,
Whence from dark of shade
That honed an evil form afar;
In curse of me you bade:
'I, the wave shall rape the shore!
Violence will there be in glares I'll throw
At all who prey, and more:
A dark and fetid sea I'll bleed.'
And now, the bitter tinge
And bleak of waste
That eyed the death of once your soul
Will here forever be!
Indeed you tell:
'The cramping pain is here!
Eternal spasm, infinite chasm,
The Devil's chaplain plays!
We'll climax in a tortured glee
As all my love decays.'
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Dark dark dark dark dark dark dark
Dark dark dark dark dark dark
Dark dark dark dark dark
Dark dark dark dark
Dark dark dark
Dark dark dark dark dark
dark dark dark dark dark dark dark darkdarkdarkdark
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Maradona, Maradona, Maradona…
This poem is dedicated to worldwide football fans.
Your left foot had the power
Of a great painter’s brush,
You made the football
To talk to your
Body’s changing moves.
Defenders all over the world
Tried to scare you, tackle you, fowl you,
Could they snatch your external body part,
A football?
You moved like a white lighting
In the dark cloud of opponent's defense;
Other strikers saw opponent's goal post,
You aimed to shoot there,
There was one word that fed you
In your entire football career –
Goal, goal, goal.
Not only Argentine fans
But football lovers worldwide
Were crazy because of you,
You were crazy for them, too.
You risked and sacrificed your body
For the enjoyment of millions of fans
Who saw unarguably best skills of
Dribbling and body movement
In entire football arena.
Some say, you are the football God,
Some say, you are the prince of football,
I say, you are a tiger
In white and Indigo stripes...
poem by Biswajit Ganguly
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Style
Style must not be underrated
Style is often overlooked
Style is never in the papers
I read it like an open book
Style
If you cant see the substance
Style shows how its organized
Style is looking for your money
Its in the way you paint your eyes
There is always a way
A way things are done
Ive been learning my abcs
I know what is 10, I know what is 1 in
Style is a naked look
Underneath your style
Style of a different place
Talking through your style
Even the way you hide it
Reveals the thing you hide
Your style may never cause a riot
Its still a style to have no style
There is always a way
To light up a lamp
Its been a crazy year all around
The check never came
I cant let it cramp my
Style is a world for sale
You cant buy this style
Style that you cant resist
You wont cramp my style
song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sandpiper
The roaring waves that is shaking the beach
the hissing surf that shines like glass
is part of its world and continually it is just out of reach
where wave upon wave is passing as it runs fast
and it is quick on little brittle dark feet
where sucking small sand grains
sweep in and out and water foams on sheet upon sheet
and there the rushing little bird remains
while its world is at times filled with vapour
and then again suddenly clear
it is focussing on things minutely small while waters roar
are drawing very near
it is continually searching for some allure
it runs and runs on little feet that are sure
poem by Gert Strydom
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Dark Or Light?
Dark and light fight in the sky,
One has to fall for the other to rule,
No one knows whats going to happen,
As this fight rips family apart.
One may say that light has to rule
And other demand dark.
Some have no clue and others just don't care.
What I have seen, this world is with the dark
Dark and light fight sky
One has to fall for the other to rule
Light has fell and the dark is here. But what can we do?
poem by Elizabeth Cox
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Light.
Light me a light any kind of light,
Just shine its beam into my darkest night,
For like a child I stay up in fright,
So light me a light any light tonight.
Candlelight, moonlight any light is just right,
For in that light I might find my might!
Don’t sing me a song, don’t hold me tight,
Just light me a light, any light tonight.
Light me a light to assist my sight,
Just my naked eye darkness cannot fight,
So before darkness gets a chance to bite,
Light me a light any kind of light.
Flickering, glaring or outright bright,
I don’t care what kind just light me a light,
All I need is darkness away tonight,
So light me a light any kind of light.
poem by Barak Al'Mondia
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Darkness Within
He stands alone
In the darkness of night
and teases and laughs
at the ghost of my past
he flicks he grins
and throws the
daggers of night
and embedded it deep
inside of my soul
twisting and turning
he grins with delight
at the pain and the agony
my eternal fight
thats apart of my life
what he fails to see
Is me grin back at him
I take on the pain
I take on the fight
he struggles to hold
the darkness within
but the bright burning light
seeks revenge for my soul
I smile and nod
as I pull out
the dark sword
of the night
and flick it aside
with out thought
with out fright
Then slowly with effort
he loses his grip
And runs for cover
from the sheild of light
poem by Kaila George
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Silent Warrior
(curly m.c.)
.
Long ago, for many years
White men came in the name of god
They took their land, they took their lives
A new age has just begun
.
They lost their gods, they lost their smile
They cried for help for the last time.
Liberty was turning into chains
But all the white men said
Thats the cross of changes
.
In the name of God - the fight for gold
These were the changes.
Tell me - is it right - in the name of god
These kind of changes ?
.
They tried to fight for liberty
Without a chance in hell, they gave up.
White men won in the name of god
With the cross as alibi
.
Theres no God who ever tried
To change the world in this way.
For the ones who abuse his name
Therell be no chance to escape
On judgement day
.
In the name of God - the fight for gold
These were the changes.
Tell me - is it right - in the name of god
These kind of changes ?
.
Tell me why, tell me why, tell why
The white men said:
Thats the cross of changes ?
.
Tell me why, tell me why, tell why,
In the name of god
These kind of changes.
song performed by by Enigma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Between Games
Nobody rests
This one constantly shifts his eyes
Hangs them on his head
And whether he wants it or not starts walking
backwards
He puts them on the soles of his feet
And whether he wants it or not returns walking
on his head
This one turns into an ear
He hears all that won't let itself be heard
But he grows bored
Yearns to turn again into himself
But without eyes he can't see how
That one bares all his faces
One after the other he throws them over the roof
The last one he throws under his feet
And sinks his head into his hands
This one stretches his sight
Stretches it from thumb to thumb
Walks over it walks
First slow then fast
Then faster and faster
That one plays with his head
Juggles it in the air
Meets it with his index finger
Or doesn't meet it at all
Nobody rests
poem by Vasko Popa
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Light
Light that can be kind. Light that can smell sweet. Light that can be soft.
Light that can be porcelain. Light that can be silent. Light that can speak.
Light that can hold many colors. Light that can be romantic. Light that can be harsh.
Light that can be cold. Light that can be warm. Light that can be dry.
Light that can be loud. Light that can be love. Light that can be faith.
Light that can be full of strength. Light that can be pure. Light that can be dark.
Light that can be fragile. Light that can be crazy. Light that can be weird.
Light that can be old. Light that can be new. Light that can be inbetween.
Light that can be swift. Light that can be sharp. Light that can wonder.
Light that can be insane. Light that can be smooth. Light that can dream.
Light that can be free. Light that can be everlasting. Light that can be wild.
Light that is the lord. Light that is Jesus. Light that is holy.
Light that is the trinity. Light that can belong. Light that can be fast.
Light that can sing. Light that is the holy ghost. Light that is the Bible.
Light that can be a mith. Light that can be still. Light that can be different.
Light that can be hole. Light that can be true. Light that can be whimsical.
Light that can be bright. Light that can be formed. Light that is blessed.
Light that can be full of presence. Light that can tell a story. Light that can be intelligent.
Light that is like no other!
poem by Shania K. Younce
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This Is The Football Season
This is the football Season it is that time of year
When men in the pub talk football as they enjoy their beer
And look forward to September when one club will fly the winner's flag
The team that wins the Premiership gives their fans the right to brag.
Their wives nicknamed the footy widows their husbands at the football club
Or after work talking football with their mates down at the local pub
They take football so seriously 'tis their passion in life
The footy fan loves his football club as much as his children or his wife.
And if their team lose at the weekend they feel and look so sad
What's known as football addiction they seem to have it bad
They feel sad for their football team and the chance of four premiership points gone
But they cheer up and look forward to next weekend's game as the working week wears on.
This is the football Season football has gone to their head
And their football scarves and beanies they even wear to bed
About their team they feel so passionate as if to them it did belong
And 'tis with delight and pride in victory that they sing the club song.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Incantation
A white well
In a black cave;
A bright shell
In a dark wave.
A white rose
Black brambles hood;
Smooth bright snows
In a dark wood.
A flung white glove
In a dark fight;
A white dove
On a wild black night.
A white door
In a dark lane;
A bright core
To bitter black pain.
A white hand
Waved from dark walls;
In a burnt black land
Bright waterfalls.
A bright spark
Where black ashes are;
In the smothering dark
One white star.
poem by Elinor Morton Wylie
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Black and White (Stream XV)
I have black thoughts,
It is a black day,
A day when the black dog
Coal black, hovers at my shoulder.
I shoulder the burden.
Deep in the black hole.
Black as a black hearted night.
Negative.
Stark.
Black and white.
I do not call my good days white days.
Why?
Or have white thoughts
On a white day,
When the white dog
Pure white sits upon my shoulder.
Which is unburdened.
Out of the pit,
Luxuriating in the bright white light;
White as the purest snow.
Positive.
For we live in a too white world
Maybe we should have grey days,
And light days.
Why should Black be negative and White poitive?
For me then, today is a grey day.
Maybe tomorrow will be a light day.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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Big Mal
This saturday his team were defeated and after the game in the pub
Big Mal was not in the mood for talking or singing the anthem of his club
Beaten by a point in a thriller but he does not take pride in an honourable defeat
To him victory only matter and winning to him always sweet.
Big Mal he has never played football though football plays a huge part in his life
The football team he supports to him as important as his young son or his beautiful wife
When his team as he calls them win he feels happy but losses he finds hard to take
But after each win he feels happy what a difference a victory can make.
Big Mal is a likeable fellow and so much about him to like
He does not drive his car when he's drinking he cycles to and from the pub on his pushbike
He says I need my driver's licence for work and at the weekend to watch my team play
My wife and son and my football team to me most important he say.
This saturday his team were the losers and Big Mal not happy at all
He feels sad on such an occasion and he never talks of football
But he has next weekend to look forward to and next saturday and sunday night
A win in the pub he may be celebrating and laughing aloud in delight.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Shades of Grey
Black is the color of the night
Grey is the shadow of you I sight
White is the shirt you wear
Black is your suit I declare
White is the wall you lean against
Grey is our path I sensed
Black is the memory I lost
Black is the road we never crossed
Grey is the prospect of the day
Grey is the taxi driving away
Black is the truth to never find you
Black is everything I can't undo
Black is my room without light
White is my color of hope in spite
Grey is the circle around my heart
Black is the truth like a work of art
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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