Kickabout
I sat in my favourite seat sipping my special schnapp
when suddenly there came running past me a group of children chasing a red football as if their life depended on it.
Around the corner I could see housewives gathering around whispering in conniving gatherings
husbands boasting about the incredibility of their financial muscles
Alas, I told myself, I used to chase life with as much vitality
but I have moved onto more important things,
sitting all day, watching the sun rise in the east and set in the west
My eyes light up as I realized, this is the reason they say wisdom
comes with age.
poem by Ejiro Okoro
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Related quotes
Fighting For Night
Sitting and watching the sun rise
knowing time is near
time to laugh
time to smile
time to cheer
Sitting and watching the sun rise
Lyeing and watching the sun sway
over the puffy white clouds
over the bright blue sky
over a home town
Lyeing watching the sun sway
Standing and watching the sun fall
down to the ground
down to the greenest of grass
down to meet your tears
Standing and watching the sun fall
Leaning and watching the moon climb
up past the stars
up past the sun's lost glem
up to where it shins too full
Leaning and watching the moon climb
Swaying
not watching
not breathing
not hearing
not frowning
Swaying
Laughing from below
watching your body away
watching the rope in the moon light
watching gathering people
watching them cut you down
Laughing from below
Sitting and watching the sun rise
Lyeing and watching the sun sway
Standing and watching the sun fall
Leaning and watching the moon climb
Swaying
Laughing from below
Laughing
from
below
poem by Kathlyn Grace
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The Sun Burns East to West
The Sun Burns East to West
(Earth’s Creation to the end of an Ice Age)
© 2008 (Jim Sularz)
Sun’s first rise over life-less skies,
the Earth cools, and the waters pool -
the Sun burns East to West.
And the planet’s broken plates quake and move.
Lightning strikes, the waters stir,
and the bonds of life begin to churn -
the Sun burns East to West.
And the waters swirl in a living urn.
Strange aquatic things, they all evolve,
some spiny finned, start to crawl -
the Sun burns East to West.
And they slowly stretch erect and tall.
Eons past where the cunning reign, a savage place,
with small sized brains -
the Sun burns East to West.
And the dead surrender their twisted remains.
An asteroid streaks from the sky, blocks out the Sun,
cause most to die -
the Sun burns East to West.
And all in a blink of Time’s eye.
Footprints in stone, some on mountainsides,
make it clear that rocks don’t lie -
the Sun burns East to West.
And the Fossils always tell the Time.
Eons past and Eons more, the fittest evolves,
and Man is born -
the Sun burns East to West.
And the early brain, once fast asleep,
begins to dream and mourn.
The first million years, Man lives in fear, learns to hunt,
invents the spear -
the Sun burns East to West.
And migrates to claim the vast frontiers.
Tools from stone and controlled fire, creates language,
that shake Man’s empire -
the Sun burns East to West.
And splash Cave paintings with Human inspire.
Life-times of hunter-gathering,
and story-telling in the dark -
the Sun burns East to West.
And a World spins with a Million hearts.
The Earth starts to warm, the oceans rise,
and the waters shape the lands -
the Sun burns East to West.
And when an Ice Age ends, then comes, the Age of Man.
poem by Jim Sularz
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You May Know A Lot About Your Favourite Game
You may know a lot about your favourite game
And from your commentaries and writings on it you know of wealth and fame
But there's more to life than talking of and writing of football
And about other things you seem to know little at all
By the followers of football your type are well known
And they look up to you as one in a class of your own
They well may be happy your praises to sing
For football to them is an important thing
But by other than me it has been said before
That football is just a game that and little more
For many from life's cares a brief getaway
To cheer on their team in the game of the day
And you football writer and commentator and sporting celebrity
You may seem enlightened to many but not so to me.
poem by Francis Duggan
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West End Girls
(....forever)
Sometimes youre better off dead
Theres gun in your hand and its pointing at your head
You think youre mad, too unstable
Kicking in chairs and knocking down tables
In a restaurant in a west end town
Call the police, theres a madman around
Running down underground to a dive bar
In a west end town
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
West end girls
Too many shadows, whispering voices
Faces on posters, too many choices
If, when, why, what?
How much have you got?
Have you got it, do you get it, if so, how often?
And which do you choose, a hard or soft option?
(how much do you need? )
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
West end girls
West end girls
(how much do you need? )
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
Oooh west end town, a dead end world
East end boys, west end girls
West end girls
Youve got a heart of glass or a heart of stone
Just you wait till I get you home
Weve got no future, weve got no past
Here today, built to last
In every city, in every nation
From lake geneva to the finland station
(how far have you been? )
In a west end town, a dead end world
The east end boys and west end girls
A west end town, a dead end world
East end boys, west end girls
West end girls
West end girls
West end girls
(how far have you been? )
Girls
East end boys
And west end girls
And west end girls
And west end girls
East end boys
The west end girls
The west end boys
And west end girls
The west end girls
The west end boys
The west end girls
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chasing You Into The Light
Lying next to you in the dark
Listening to your pounding heart
The sheets are tangled around your waist
I watch the dream moving on your face
Feel you shake, hear your cries
Running in the dark trying to open your eyes
Come on baby, wake up
Ive followed you across the days and years
Been there for the thrills and the tears
Chasing you from state to state
Waking, dreaming, I try to relate
Why should I be somebody you fear
When youre asleep and Im so near?
Dont even know why Im in your dreams
I got control over none of these things
Morning comes, hard and bright
And Im exhausted from running after you all night
Chasing you into the light
Yeah Ive been reaching for you baby
As if I could reach you when you dream at night
But I never can quite
I aint lying here awake by myself
You better wake up
Theres something I want to talk to you about
You better wake up
I love you girl, tell the world I do
Theres nothing I wouldnt do for you
I want to rescue you like you rescued me
From a life of doubt and uncertainty
Thats why Im chasing you
Chasing you into the light
Go for a walk on the pier with me baby
Now as the dawn comes over the night
Watching the stars in the sky disappear maybe
Youll find a way to let go of your fright
The sea is deep, the world is wide
Ships are leaving for the other side
This whole city will be waking soon
And in the east
Clouds are strung out behind the moon
Chasing her into the light
Wake up
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Editing Bukowski, Without His Permission
i
Long walks at night-
that's what good for the soul:
peeking into windows
watching tired housewives
trying to fight off
their beer-maddened husbands.
ii
(i am a minimalist, how about removing the last line,
ok, i will try)
Long walks at night-
that's what good for the soul:
peeking into windows
watching tired housewives
trying to fight off
iii
(hey, how about removing the first line,
the long walks are not really necessary,
ok)
that's what good for the soul:
peeking into windows
watching tired housewives
trying to fight off
iv
(hmm
why not remove the third and fourth,
it sounds good to me...
yeah, i will)
that's what good for the soul:
watching tired housewives
v
(what about using only one word
to make the poem
very brief?
ok.. i will leave the most important one)
-nothing follows-
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Things That Some Women Put Up With
There is more to life for any woman than being a faithful and a devoted wife
To a selfish and egotistical fellow until the last day of her life
To one who remains as a rude teenager in his behaviour who uses her as his sexual toy
She cares for him and for their children whilst the good life he seems to enjoy.
He is with his mates in the pub after work in the evening mostly talking about football
The things they see in life as important are not that important at all
She even knows he has a mistress who gives him his 'bit on the side'
Though for her self esteem that cannot be good as well as harmful to her sense of pride.
The things that some women put up with from arrogant self centred men
They feel trapped in their hopeless marriage as if they were locked in a pen
A pen that they cannot escape from some as prisoners of their marriage vows stay
For love that cloud our eyes to the faults of others the price can be so big to pay.
The things that some women put up with to keep their bad marriage alive
As if without their selfish husbands that they could not manage to survive
Their marriage vows to them so sacred that they have to live out their life span
With one who does not even respect them an arrogant self centred man
poem by Francis Duggan
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Little person in the well
Little person in the well
Why are you still here
Is life so hard to look at
You must linger here
Must you be out of sight
From something with no eyes
Little person in the well
Why are you still here
Is life so hard to look upon
That you must linger here
Little person in the shadows
Why are you sitting here
Is life so hard to look upon
That you must hide in the shadows
Must you hide so nothing can find you
When nothing's searching
Little person in the shadows
Why are you sitting here
Is life so hard to look upon
That you must hide in the shadows
Little person running on
Why don't you ever stop
Is life so hard to look upon
That you must keep running from it
You run from every thing
When nobody's chasing you
Little person running on
Why don't you ever stop
Is life so hard to look upon
That you must keep running from it
The little person in the well
Has a secret to share
The little person hiding in the dark
Has a secret to be told
The little person always running
Has a secret thats never been heard
The little people that you hear of
Are just like me
March 2006
poem by Jessie Li here
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Carefree Into A New Day
it`s like running away
like chasing the brightest day
like waking up in your eyes
it`s like a blossoming leaf in may
it`s like never knowing about the past
stepping light and fast
facing that horizon
facing that new place at last
tears burning our eyes like fire
the wind commanding our desires
traveling an upward trail
chasing dreams that`ll never expire
lifting ourselves from the floor
watching the lights shine on the door
running away like if never to return
stripped from worries and naked our soul
poem by Issam Aladdin
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Watching For Pa
Three little forms in the twilight gray,
Searching the shadows across the way;
Two pair of black eyes, and one of blue --
Brimful of love, and of mischief too;
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
May, with her placid and thoughtful brow,
Beaming with kindness and love just now;
Willie the youngest, in anguish did lay,
Stealing sly kisses from sister May,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Nellie, with ringlets of sunny hue,
Cosily nested between the two;
Pressing her cheeks to the window pane,
Wishing the absent one home again.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Now there are shouts from the window seat;
There is a patter of childish feet;
Gaily they rush through the lighted hall --
"Coming at last" is the joyful call.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
poem by Henry Clay Work
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A lonely angel in jungle
There was girl in white dress,
Who was running away through my eyes,
I can see tears are falling from your eyes,
I'm trying to chase you,
You're running and running,
Wolves are howling in the jungle,
But, I'm not afraid of chasing you,
And I believe, you won't allow me,
to chase you before I die!
poem by Hassan Tanvir Mansur
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From The Series 'Moon Rivers
An evening spent with the children of the children of the holocaust
Different lives
Different strives
To be something, someone
In relation to all that is gone
In the past long ago and long since hence
We are still bound by the energies the mysteries we can only partially glimpse at through Ancestors eyes
And try to surmise our own meaning and existence
Make some sense of it all
The call
Of genetics and emotional heritage
This is us we are they and they are them
And between us all is a thread that links the whole chain,
From me to you and back again
The underlying synchronicity and wisdom of it all
This life inextricably linked to all others
The magic of how I met you and you met me
And how we came to be this three
Sitting here sipping champagne
Pondering past and present both
I feel the magic in the air as things fall into place
Crumb by crumb weaving their way into rainbow psychedelic patterns that all make Sense… at least to me
Alone in my tree
Of wisdom and sin
I ate the apple you see
I wanted to know more
Killed the cat for sure
And now here is me, alone again, typing words
As another new moon is born
Fingernail thin floating above western roofs
A new phase for planets and all has begun
Rebirth and renew let past moons be gone forever, forgotten in memories bliss
From now let it just be,
let my heart find its peace
In all that once was
And all that will come to be.
poem by Petra Creffield
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Available Light
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
The restless wind
Has seen all things
In every kind of light
Rising with the full moon
To go howling through the night
The sleepless wind
Has heard all things
Between the sea and sky
In the canyons of the city
You can hear the buildings cry
Oh the wind can carry
All the voices of the sea
Oh the wind can carry
All the echoes home to me
Run with wind and weather
To the music of the sea
All four winds together
Cant bring the world to me
Chase the wind around the world
I want to look at life --- in the available light
Play of light
A photograph
The way I used to be
Some half-forgotten stranger
Doesnt mean that much to me
Trick of light
Moving picture
Moments caught in flight
Make the shadows darker
Or the colors shine too bright
Oh the light can carry
All the visions of the sea
Oh the light can carry
All the images to me
Run to light from shadow
Sun gives me no rest
Promise offered in the east
Broken in the west
Chase the sun around the world
I want to look at life --- in the available light
All four winds together
Cant bring the world to me
Shadows hide the play of light
So much I want to see
Chase the light around the world
I want to look at life --- in the available light
Ill go with the wind
Ill stand in the light
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Football Fan
They love their football team
their loyalty is never in doubt
they rarely ever miss a match
from the stands they scream and shout.
Even when the teams playing poor
and their favourite player is off key
that will never stop them from going
as the ground is where they want to be.
Football is always on their minds
they think about it night and day
non football fans think they must be crazy
watching men kicking a ball home and away.
Relationships can become strained and tense
as football takes the leading role
partners can become irritable and even jealous
when the fan talks for hours about a wonder goal.
The fan even dreams of football in their sleep
shouting out and butting the pillow with their head
they jump up and down as if they've scored a goal
and kick their partner out of the bed.
Yes the football fan is a breed apart
slightly eccentric and a thick skinned soul
when all that matters to them in life
is seeing their favourite player score a winning goal!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Children Rise Up
Children rise up
Children rise up
You are free
You are free
From Satan's reach
Children rise up
Lead the way
You are the light
That sees us through each day
Children Rise Up
You are from God
Made in his image
And closest to his heart
Children Rise Up
Young and Old
Go out and profess the word of God
With earnesty and with soul
Children Rise Up
You are special
You are special
More so than the God's angels
For you are the angels
The leaders of the world
The light from the darkness
The most precious of us all
We are the children
Each one of us
Young and Old
Are from God's soul
In Him we believe
In HIm we shall succeed
Through turmoil and toils
God protects us from Satan's ploys
poem by Lee John Siebritz
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An ever-relished chase
It has been a long chase
For something or the other
Over these years
As a kid it was a chase
For toys and play things
As a student it was a chase
For marks and ranks
As a youth it was a chase
After career and growth
And later it was chase
For getting the right life partner
The chase continued
For off-springs’ upbring
It was later to chase
For helping children settle
Ageing made me chase
For cure from illnesses
And other physical malfunctions
Yes,
It was a long chase for
Something or the others all these days
One understanding dawned in me
That
You will not get that
Which you have not chased
And
You will not get every thing
Which you have chased
Even if you get the object of your chase
It is not going to be in that form
In which it was when you started the chase
Unfruitful chase proves frustrating
Fruitful chase exciting
Wisdom will tell you that
The pleasure is more with the act of chase
Than getting hold of the object of chase
Holding of the object of chase
And sustaining its charm
Are essential after the end of chase
Very likely, chase for objects of
Worldly significance
Takes away your energy
And a lot of time elapses
Before you get in possession
Of your chase-objects
The duration at times is so large
That you wonder at the end of the chase
As to what for this object has been chased
The one chase which
Has the least probability
Of ending and
You hardly get hold of the
Object of chase
Is the
Chase for self-actualization
Or self-realization
This is the chase after your spirit
That kept you going all these days
And that will keep you going
Till that time when you away
Spiritual scholars assure
That this chase is really exciting
And remains so for any long
Whether or not
You come across what you are chasing
Develop a taste for such a chase
As this chase
Never makes you tired
But helps you remain balanced, cool
And unmindful of happenings
Around you
It is indeed an ever-relished chase
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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All Tired Out
All fired up, all tired out,
The lion cub was through
And now there wasn't any doubt,
For no more could he do...
His little legs had run a mile,
By chasing all that moved
And though he lasted for a while,
Right now he must be soothed...
His precious paws had tender toes,
His muscles needed rest,
He only had a tiny nose
For air from east to west...
He watched the gliding clouds go by
And lay there hypnotised,
As they serenely sailed the sky
Across the land he prized...
One day he'd be the lion king
Who'd dominate for sure,
The guardian over everything
That life prepared him for...
Just give him time, for destiny
To bring these truths about...
And leave his royal majesty,
Today, all tired out!
poem by Denis Martindale
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Special
I been trying for so long
To get you where I stand
Feel like I been climbing all my life
Everybody told me
I'd never ever get this far
I know I can make it if I try
There's the special things that come your way
?I'll be praying? no matter what they say
Special things that somehow come to you
(come to you, you too, to you, do to, be do, you)
Special things come to you
There's no sense in trying to fight it
When I want something so bad
No, it's not as easy as it seems
Simple things are the hardest
Of the things we do for love
And I won't give up cause I'm not just what it means
The special things you dream about
And the special things you're all about
Special things that somehow come to you
And it's the simple things to just believe
And the special things that you want to see
Special things somehow come to you
(come to you, doo doo doo, to you, doo doo doo)
Special things (doo, doo ahh, you doo)
Do do doo, on you, do do doo, to you
Do doo, ahh, do do doo, too
There's the special things that come your way
?I'll be praying? no matter what they say
Special things that somehow come to you
The special things you dream about
And the special things you're all about
Special things that somehow come to you
There's the special things that come your way
?I'll be praying? no matter what they say
Special things that somehow come to you
And it's the simple things to just believe
And the special things that you want to see
Special things somehow come to you
song performed by by Vitamin C
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode to Phyllis
My date moved on the dance floor
as if her life depended on it.
I tried to look cool
as I kept up with her.
At some point, I felt a stare
from the lady
sitting by herself.
The discotheque lights
did not reveal
the complete details
of her face
but somehow
I knew something
struck between us.
She is my wife
and the mother
of my children.
poem by Buxton Shippy
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Football A Way Of Life
Being a football fan is a way of life
it is constantly on one's mind
your thinking about the next match
while going about the daily grind.
Your talking about great goals
and a brilliant player from the past
telling anyone who's listening
that he was skilful and he was fast.
Your living and breathing football
you dream of it in your sleep
even though the team you support
can make you angry and make you weep.
You meet up with fellow football fans
in the pub before the big match
one group of like minded people
talking about football over pints and a batch.
Football on a Saturday is all that matters
nothing else can stand in it's way
all of life's worries are put on hold
while the football fan watches his team play.
poem by Kevin Halls
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