Your Business Your Own
'Tis something I thought for your age you'd have known
Your life is your business and your business your own
What matter if others your praises don't sing
You're not breaking the law and you do your own thing
For collecting the wings of dead butterflies
That your ex mates laugh at you is not a surprise
But they are more silly than you overall
On saturday with others they kick and chase a ball
In a man's World sport is seen as okay
But that said what is a man's World anyway
To play football with your favourite football club
And guzzle down beer with your mates in the pub
Since they were never your mates going by what they say of you
keep collecting butterfly wings if that's what you like to do.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Football His Diversion
He is not getting on with his unhappy wife
His Football Club his diversion from his problems in life
He looks forward to the weekend through each working day
To cheer on his team such is life some do say.
He and his wife seem to have little in common at all
She does not have any interest in football
And their nineteen year old daughter is living elsewhere
Experiencing life in the big World out there.
With his mates in the pub football stories they share
A diversion for them from their every care
Than football no greater passion in their lives they can name
To them it is more far more than a game.
It would seem love in their marriage it is of the past
But then few things in life ever do seem to last
On saturday he barracks for his team whilst she
Is with her friend in the cafe enjoying afternoon tea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Big match tomorrow
Really big game on Saturday
playing a team at the top
told my mates to be there
let the women go to the shops.
The club is having a bad season
losing more games than we win
so we need to get really behind them
and they need to play out of their skin.
Being at the bottom is depressing
that's why fans are staying away
but we love our football club
that's why we'll be there on Saturday.
The away fans will be full of themselves
and to them it will be a great day out
because their team will be favourites
and they'll think it will be easy no doubt.
So we'll make lots of noise and never shut up
and keep on singing till our throats are sore
because that's what a true football fan does
they keep on going even when the team is poor.
So I'll keep my fingers crossed that we win
if we do I'll be really happy on Saturday night
not only because my team was victorious
but I'll be leaving the pub as high as a kite!
poem by Kevin Halls
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He Is Such A Joyful Winner
He is such a joyful winner but he does not like to lose
His favourite team won at the weekend so he went on the booze
He could not go to work today he feels fuzzy in the head
And nursing his hangover he lay at home in bed.
A football mad young person he surely loves the game
To be the Club's best barracker is his great claim to fame
At every goal his team kicks he whoops aloud in joy
The man in his late twenties at heart remains a boy.
His beanie in his Club Football colours to bed he even wear
His Club as important to him as his wife and children his type no longer rare
In the pub with his drinking mates their main topic is football
The great players and the winners and the losers of the weekend games they recall.
His team won at the weekend but he is in bed today
For too much celebrating his price he has to pay
He proudly wears the Club colours of his favourite football team
And every victory that they have good for his self esteem.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Not Your Type Of Town
It will never be known as a cultural town
Where footballers and macho men vie for renown
In the pub one once spoke of Rembrandt someone asked who is he
If he does play football his name is strange to me.
If you cannot talk of work, farming, politics or sports and join your pub mates in a beer
This not your sort of town what business have you here
Though if you like line dancing and Country music that might be your saving grace
For these are the most cultural things that are known to the place.
If you talk of Beethoven or Handel they might ask who are they
For they must not be famous never heard of them anyway
Those we most admire play cricket or football
These are the people that we wish to recall.
If you are literary minded or a poet at heart
Or if you are one who is interested in art
Then this is a town you ought not to live in
For here you may not meet with similar kin.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Regrets to fault
College mates, play mates, dance mates
Colleagues, assistants and bosses,
Each one seems more suitable
Than her spouse. Regrets to fault
28.04.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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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
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Football
I'm a football baby,
Rollin' round the field.
I've been passed and fumbled,
Till I don't know what I feel.
Everybody's the same,
They're all footballs too.
Setting up the big play
And trying to score.
I'm a football baby
In a football game
I'm a football baby
Run--kick
Life's a football game,
As every chump and champ knows.
We don't touch, we collide,
Till we're worn out inside.
We're kicking each other,
Right where it hurts,
Setting up the big play,
And trying to score.
I'm a football baby,
In a football game
I'm a football baby,
I'm a football baby,
In a football game
I'm a football baby,
Block--pass
I'm a football baby,
In a football game
I'm a football baby,
Run---kick---hit---goal .
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Regular Aussie Bloke
The woman that he married with her new lover having sex
But he does not feel angry in any way with her the one he calls his ex
Though to him she was unfaithful such is life he does say
The past is the past and life goes on and that was yesterday
The marriage only lasted one year she left him two years ago
He has had a few flings since then that to love did not grow
He is now happy in his single life at twenty five in his prime
Of life he feels that for marriage and children on his side he has time
With his mates at the local pub he talks about football
And Aussie Rules their favourite game to them the greatest sport of all
He works hard and enjoys his beer and he can laugh at a joke
And he is what one may describe as a regular Aussie bloke
He tried marriage it did not work out he may well try again
In life you win some and you lose some and one's loss is another's gain.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Young Aussie
In the company of women he is not coy or shy
A real macho type is the young Aussie guy
And some young women like him though some young women say
A bit of a boofhead who pushes his way.
He likes to talk cricket with his mates drinking beer
But of God and of religion he does not wish to hear
He does not have a God for to which he can pray
And he is never seen in a church on sunday.
He is a great fan of Aussie Rules Football
To him the one true game and the best game of them all
On friday night he goes to the football and on saturday to the pub
And on sunday evening he drinks in the Sportsman's Club.
The young Aussie bloke he doesn't use words like date
His woman to him she is more of a mate
On saturday night at the disco for five hours or more
He parties and drinks till the small hours of four.
Though much his own man in him there is much good
And the young Aussie he would help you if he could
But don't mention God to him for he will only say
That only the impressionable to the unseen do pray.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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
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Boxing or Football?
What's your favourite sport Kevin?
as you like Boxing and Football
well they're both exciting to me
so that's a hard one to call.
Boxing is a very tough sport
a mixture of brawn and skill
two boxers standing toe to toe
both with the power to kill.
Football is full of passion
the worlds greatest team game
no other comes anywhere near
Cricket is slow boring and tame.
Boxing is not for the faint hearted
you have to be tough and very fit
take punches to the head and body
and bob and weave and avoid getting hit.
Football is played the world over
on the streets and over the park
children kick a ball for hours
in the rain and in the dark.
So if I have to make a choice
Football has to be the sport for me
you get great goals and action
and a packed ground is the place to be.
But Boxing comes a close second
Ali, Tyson, Rocky Marciano, were the best,
beating opponents with skill and guts
but so much better than all the rest.
This question was recently put to me and was hard to answer.
poem by Kevin Halls
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Those Legs That Once Could Run So Fast
Those legs that once could run so fast feel heavy now and slow
He sure is not the man he was some forty years ago
He played football with his young mates he drank till pub closing time
But that was many years ago when he was in his prime,
On looking back the decades time seems to have gone fast
He had his good days one must suppose though nothing seems to last
And time catches up on all of us though some with hair dye cover their gray
But Mother Nature on us all does have the final say,
Forty five years ago he was the hero of the local Football team
In the cup final he kicked the winning goal a boost to his self esteem
By his team-mates he was shouldered from the field of play the cheers for him rang loud
And thinking of his glorious hour still makes him feel so proud
And now at night he sits at home with his ageing and forgetful wife
And time is catching up on him one might say such is life.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Big J
Tis true about hate that it can be love turned upside down
And Big J a classic example the most bitter man in Town
Since Pam his wife she left him and with her took their five year old daughter Sue
One might say a long holiday the man is overdue.
He feels the World is against him he is always in a bad mood
And about his imaginary wrongs against him he silently does brood
When he is in the bar-room he always drinks on his own
He now ignores his old mates as if them he'd never known.
Tis said that Pam she left him because her he used to beat
And a kinder and more loving man she happened for to meet
But he feels so hard done by to none he says good day
He would rather brood in silence that now his chosen way.
Big J he looks so serious from society he has withdrawn
His life is from work to the pub and he rise for work at dawn
He has resigned from football and from the Football Club
And nowadays he drinks on his own down at the local pub.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Soul Mates
Soul mates they seemed, soul mates they stayed,
Lion and lioness,
Thus side-by-side and unafraid,
Portraying happiness...
No growls, no scowls, no random roars,
No bared teeth warnings shared,
No staring eyes, no clutching claws,
Just peace because they cared...
Soul mates they seemed, soul mates they stayed,
United in their quest,
Together in the sun or shade,
Yet mostly when at rest...
Life's trials were tackled day-by-day
And also night-by-night,
For lions seldom run away
When each one has to fight...
Soul mates they seemed, soul mates they stayed,
This was their destiny,
Such that from this not one had strayed,
For this was meant to be...
No wonder, then, that peace remained,
Each knew their place, no doubt
And from such wisdom much is gained...
And that's what life's about...
Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Soul Mates'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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I'm A Fan
It’s football season again
I hope my team does well this year
Football season again
I’m a fan
It’s football season again
Spread that ball across the field
Football season again
I’m a fan
Through the cold and the rain
I’ll be there at the game
A voice screaming to be heard
I’ll cry sometimes, sometimes I’ll smile
As my voice echoes through the crowd
I’m a fan, I’m a fan, I’m a fan
It’s football season again
I hope my team does well this year
Football season again
I’m a fan
It’s football season again
Tackle hard and play it fair
Football season again
I’m a fan
And at the end of the year
We’ll be dressed in the gear
As they turn to salute the crowd
And we’ll stand with pride
‘Cause they’re our side
And we’ll sing their praises loud
We’re the fans, We’re the fans, We’re the fans
Copyright Colin Coplin 2004 / 2010
poem by Colin Coplin
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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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