Footy
a footy is spotty
a footy is round my heart thumps
when it hits the ground
a footy is fun
because when you play you get to much sun
i love football footy is great to have in the world
someday in space
we can leave a rocket and take a footy
just in case
by shannon reynolds 8j
poem by Shaz 8j Reynolds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Footy Barracker
He does love his football his meat pie and beer
And when his team win so loudly he does cheer
He talks with his footy mates at the local pub
Of the weekend game and the winning chances of the club
His wife says that football has gone to his head
That his footy beanie he even wears with him to bed
The barrackers lives revolve around work, family the pub and the game
And footy widows for their wives is an often used nickname
And which club barrackers will sing their club song on that big day in September
In a moment for to cherish and until death to remember
For the losers disappointment for the winners sheer elation
And post Grand Final for a week or more great nights of celebration
It will make his year on Grand Final day if his team is the winner
Whilst he is talking footy in the pub his wife is home cooking dinner.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To Those Who Love Footy
To those who love footy a man of renown
The legend of sport from the little bush town
Footballers of his calibre hard to be found
On Grand Final day he was best on ground
But Tim the young artist one who doesn't like football
Says legends of sport don't interest him at all
To him the renowned locally raised footy player seems quite ordinary
Though many with him on that would disagree
He says sports fans elite sports people over-rate
That they are not worthy of the title of great
The greats of human history that historians recall
Were not sports people or never played football
And he says of the locally raised football legend I'm not putting him down
When I say he's an ordinary bloke from an ordinary town.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
But I Caught Nine
She slammed the door
I'd heard it before
Every month she is cranky
This is that time
She'll be back
After a cuppa with mum
A wonderful woman
The peacemaker
I'd been fishing
They were biting
So I stayed a bit longer
I guess too long
But Honey I caught nine
You said you'd be home at one
I planned things for us
Now you ruined it
Calm down Honey
The World didn't end
You wouldn't have noticed
Too busy fishing and drinking
When are you going to mow
That jungle out the front
I'm so sick of it
It's fishing or bloody footy
Off she went in a huff
I'd mowed that morning
So I gutted the fish
Watched footy on TV
poem by Phil Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Young Fellow Next Door
The young fellow next door barracks for Hawthorn
And after school he kicks the egg shaped ball
He wants to be as great as Jason Dunstall
And that his name football historians will recall.
He wants to don the brown and gold of Hawthorn
And star in a grand final winning team
But the road ahead won't be easy for Tony
If one day he's to realize his dream.
If he is to be a great footy player
He must train hard for twelve months every year
He must impress the coaches and football scouts
And stay well clear of narcotics and beer.
The young fellow next door says he'll be famous
And that for the Hawthorn Football club he'll Play
And that he will be the talk of all Australia
Ten years from now on the grand final day.
A nine year old with big dreams is the schoolboy Tony
He says i'll be an Aussie sporting great
And i will lead Hawthorn back to glory
And the footy fans my name will celebrate.
On every street there is one like young Tony
Who has this dream of an enduring fame
Who is the hero of the great Grand Final
And kicks the famous goal that wins the game.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The National Game Of Australia
The National game of Australia is Australian Rules Football
And the Aussies who love their game say 'tis the greatest game of all
Soccer, Rugby Union and Rugby League and Cricket have their roots elsewhere
But no truer Aussie sportsman than an Aussie Rules footy player,
A game born on Australian soil it surely is Australia's own
And the legend of great footy players in their deaths has even grown
In September at the famed M C G in Melbourne on A F L Grand Final Day
Close to one hundred thousand people flock to watch Australia's best teams play
Though many like both codes of rugby and cricket and soccer a game that is played Worldwide
Australia's National game is Aussie Rules to many that's a source of pride
The National Game of Australia and it's great claim to fame
Is that it was born and bred in Australia and is the only true Australian Game
And it surely is a true Aussie as Aussie as can be
And though some others may like introduced games far better with what I say many would agree.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Footy Man
He wears his club scarf and beanie this cold saturday evening in the late Fall
As he walks from the train to the football oval for to watch a few hours of football
One might say a one eyed supporter he urges his footy heroes on
But he falls silent before the final siren when all hope of a victory seems gone.
In the work canteen on monday morning his workmates at him will have a go
And tease him of how his team lost on the weekend that they were too clumsy and slow
For much livelier and classier opponents though such banter he does not take to heart
One must take the good with the bad days of living and life it's all part
His passion in life is his Football Club a sports minded fellow is Stan
His favourite song is his Club anthem his nickname is the Footy Man
He always wears his club scarf and beanie and he looks forward to next weekend's game
And when his team loses by a narrow margin the umpires he always will blame.
He is happy when his team is winning the smile of joy is on his face
But on the monday after a loss he must put up with his workmates teasing him in the Workplace
But that is all part of life and living we win and we lose every day
But to next weekend he looks forward to when again he will watch his team play.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Big Brothers
Big brothers can be mean
Big brothers can be nasty
Big brothers can be annoying
Whenever they are seen
They skit people and fight
And play footy and all night
Then never gets things right
In the summer they eat ice-scream
But in sports they don’t work as a team
In the winter they throw snow balls
And always laugh when someone falls
Football begins people start biting
Starting arguments and then shouting
Leading to disagreements and then fighting
And I’m always sitting there shaking my head doubting
poem by Jennifer Maliya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
England Expects
England expects..
England expects..that every player will do his duty
This is a tournament, not just a bit of footy
Low esteem? Their hearts not in it
They'll have to pull their socks up in order to win it.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Footy Fun
Ruggerby; thuggery.
We're so not gay; buggery.
Sportsmanship; drinking spree.
Rape and drugs; 'Wasn't me! "
Blood 'n guts 'n broken bones,
Mothers pass to us your sons,
We'll all have some 'Footy Fun':
Ruggerby!
poem by Neil Milliner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Jaffa
Some say he well might be a football great
But he has major problems with his weight
He find the footy training tough and hard
And his legs refuse to run that extra yard.
A powerful man just under six foot tall
And just a few pounds short of fifteen stone
When Jaffa crashes goalwards with the ball
You hear those opposition players groan.
A top player with the Warby football team
And in Warburton his is a household name
He gives and takes the knocks and lets off steam
And after tells you 'it's all in the game'.
He struggles for to keep those kilos down
Big Jaffa man I meet every week day
But his weight his one great barrier to renown
At least that's what some football followers say.
A handsome fellow of sturdy build and tough
And quite ferocious on the field of play
And the powerful build of him seems quite enough
I'd rather face Mike Tyson any day.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mick
Mick loves sports deep in his heart
Of his whole life; footy and soccer play a major part
Playing and watching gives him a high
Especially when his team kicks a goal or scores a try
In AFL the Sydney Swans or the Red and White
Are forever the favourites in his sight
Mick has loved Middlesbrough English soccer team or Boro as they are known
Since from a child; he has grown
In NRL Mick is happy to see West Tigers roar
As this is the side that he barracks for
Total satisfaction Mick always finds
Through Sports of all kinds
poem by Rose Angel H
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Whats Your Happiness?
High- heels and lipstick
Sunshine and a fake tan
Nail polish and hair clips
Glitter and no more exams
Soccer, footy, cricket and more
Sweaty shirts and dirt
Sports shoes Whistles
Rubbing in a win never hurts
Perfect ring, now on one knee
Getting her to say I do
Tiaras and veils
Flowers; oh and a groom
Rainy days with the blanket
Hot Coco and chick flick
Sun, Few mates and BBQ
Laugh at steaks as hard as a brick
Everyone’s different, Find what makes you happy
poem by Tibny Shine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Intervention Allies
When john howard said
let’s have an intervention
the women shouted yes!
we’re sick of the drinking
the weekend footy trips away
happy hours in hotels
without bringing their pay home to us
and sometimes losing their jobs
when they don’t know when to stop
we’re sick of the sarcasm
the fights the occasional black eye
their priority for their mates
over us and the children
we’re sick of their drunken breath
exploding in unjustified abuse
the words that can’t be retrieved
when he crawls back into bed
Yes the women shouted
let’s have the intervention
The Aboriginal women
weren’t so sure
poem by Ali Eckermann
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Beautiful Game
A ball hit into empty stands in a game of cricket,
A game so bland won’t have me buying a ticket,
As a kid I saw my first footy game at Stamford Bridge,
Gullit was a magician with the ball he’d flick and trick it,
Knew there and then that id be picking it,
As my favourite sport played on this earth,
Picked up a football never stopped kicking it,
First touch chesting it, cross comes in always headering it,
The beautiful game has a magic that keeps you remembering it,
Mini football games like ‘66’ boost skills and tricks
For schoolboys bunking school claiming there sick
The dick in black blowing his whistle for a diving prat,
Blokes in pubs screaming “what was that? ! ? ! ”
Sad to see the beautiful game run by money men and bankers,
Warms my heart though to still hear the crowd go
“The referees a wanker! The referees a wanker! ”
Im forever blowing bubbles walking in a winter wonderland,
Oh to be a man and football fan on your sofa in the pub or the stands,
There’s nothing quite like it to be together in your team clan,
Cheering our teams on with every emotional breath at hand
No sport is as passionate or bigger,
No sport can do it like football can,
No nation has stadiums that are fuller,
No country can love this game more then England fans!
poem by Kaspa Richards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Locals Are The Premiers
Above the Local oval for twelve months will fly the Premiership flag
The Locals are the Premiers they can afford to brag
Down at the Footy Club they are celebrating and singing the Club song
The fans are in a party mood they will sing all night long.
The Locals are the Premiers the champion team this year
Their fans are celebrating they will drink heaps of beer
Since the final siren was blown today the fans have sung long and loud
The Local team have won the day and have done themselves proud.
Lets hear it for the Premiers a mighty hip hooray
The local football fans are cheering in this their greatest day
For the winners joy and the losers heartache that's life as some would say
Life has it's good and bad times and it has always been this way.
The local football team are Premiers and their fans celebrate
Two decades since the last flag was won but it was a worth the wait
The town pubs are in a festive mood they will party on all night
And down at the Football Club Rooms the fans whoop in delight.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Luring Websites!
I'm a reserved man.
When I was in service,
my subordinates wouldn't
dare look at my face.
'Sinister-looking man'
only the men said of me.
Being a bored retiree,
I visited a website,
seeking messages for dating.
When I typed down my age,
they flashed a startling joke:
' Wow! Just born'; my heart broken.
I entered another site,
answered Psychology-tests
and they greeted me to have
all my erogenous zones thrilled
by the folks of epicurean tastes.
When they told me to send
a maiden message to a friend waiting,
I typed: ' Don't look at my empty purse'.
Her lightinng curt reply was:
' You funny old geezer! Wanna meet me? '
I switched over to another site.
They sent loads of profiles
of Mr.Quickfire, Longman, Footy Punch
and so on, wanting soulmate soon.
My God! I cried and clicked: 'Unsubscribe'.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fed Up
I ain't a timid man at all, I'm just as brave as most,
I'll take my chance in open fight and die beside my post;
But riding round the 'ole day long as target for a Krupp,
A-drawing fire from Koppies -- well, I'm fair fed up.
It's wonderful how few get hit, it's luck that pulls us through;
Their rifle fire's no class at all, it misses me and you;
But when they sprinkle shells around like water from a cup
From that there blooming pom-pom gun -- well, I'm fed up.
We never get a chance to charge, to do a thrust and cut,
I'll have to chuck the Cavalry and join the Mounted Fut.
But after all -- What's Mounted Fut? I saw them t'other day,
They occupied a koppie when the Boers had run away.
The Cavalry went riding on and seen a score of fights,
But there they kept them Mounted Fut three solid days and nights --
Three solid starving days and nights with scarce a bite or sup.
Well! after that on Mounted Fut I'm fair fed up.
And tramping with the Footies ain't as easy as it looks,
They scarcely ever see a Boer except in picture books.
They do a march of twenty mile that leaves 'em nearly dead,
And then they find the bloomin' Boers is twenty miles ahead.
Each Footy is as full of fight as any bulldog pup,
But walking forty miles to fight -- well, I'm fed up.
So after all I think that when I leave the Cavalry
I'll either join the ambulance or else the A.S.C.;
They've always tucker in the plate and coffee in the cup,
But bully beef and biscuits -- well! I'm fair fed up!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tis Football
'Tis football is the big World game of today
Grid Iron the big game of the U S of A,
Rugby League, Rugby Union and Aussie Rules Football
And soccer the biggest World game of them all
Gaelic Football a field game the Irish do play
Football in it's many codes the big World game of today
Football supporters Worldwide their team and their club colours wear
And in International games in their National colours they even dye their hair
Some men love their football team as much as their parents, children or wives
Yes football is one of the great loves of their lives
When their team does win the club song they do sing
But a loss to their weekend great sadness does bring
All over the World many codes of football
And to each their own code the best game of all.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Football Jock And The Cheerleader
Football jocks- they allow nothing to get in their way
Girls hearts they’d break every day.
What is a heart? But tissue and mass.
They’ll get over it, it will pass.
Life is a game and we play it to our best
If girls can’t cope then give it a rest.
Love is like football and it has
many tactics that we must learn
and along the way people get burned.
They tend to dropp their hearts
and it shatters on the ground
But someone will pick up the pieces
Whatever could be found.
We are the jocks with one goal in mind
“ to win” every turn and every time.
We are the cheerleaders of the team
We get the fans to jump and scream.
We give you guys moral support
With out us your fans would abort.
You think because you’re football jocks
That all the women s clocks must stop.
Well! We have a surprise for you
Without us you wouldn’t know what to do.
As for our hearts shattering on the ground
My friend! You better turn and look around.
You see! LOVE IS NOT! A football game
And no heart remains the same
You are about to get your dues
For we know exactly what to do.
You may be great on the football field
But our hearts, you will not steal.
You can not get in our heads
nor can you get us in your beds.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!