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Best Soccer Poems

Below are the all-time best Soccer poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of soccer poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Soccer Poem | |

The Beautiful Game

The Beautiful Game

Stepping on the field
This belongs to me
It is where
I am in control.

Long before I came here
I have prepared for this day
I reach down
Pluck the grass from the earth
Feel the energy of the moment

Nothing else matters now
It’s only about this
This is the beginning 
The beginning of something great

Walk to the centerline
Turn and view the pitch.
The others who stand with me
In this battle 
Prepared for what is to come.

I see the same in them
As I feel
No one else understands 
They cannot share this 

This is our fight
It is our moment
It is what we know
What we live for

The whistle sounds
 Ball advances
It has begun

The Beautiful Game

Details | Soccer Poem | |

Soccer

I play keeper very fine.
When the ball comes it’s all mine.
Bam!! Goes the ball off the pole.
I just saved another goal.
Whack!!  The ball has been shot.
It comes to me and I’ve caught.
You can try and try and try.
You will never get the ball by.

Details | Soccer Poem | |

The Game of Soccer

THE GAME OF SOCCER!

Stadium overcrowded by 
hooligans and fans
Cheering waving flags and 
clapping their hands

Players on the field they’re 
ready to start
There goes the whistle it pumps 
up their hearts

Adding strength to the ball and 
kicking it high
The ball travels overhead how 
beautiful it can fly

Over center field and still it 
goes strong
Pass received with ease and the 
player runs long

There he goes for his 
opponents goal
He dribbles through each player 
he’s on a roll

He takes the shot and curves it 
by
The keeper dives for it far and 
high

The goalie misses it the balls in 
the net
There’s a moment of silence 
and no regrets

The winners jump for joy that 
win was a must
Opponents heads tilt down low 
they leave in disgust

A player’s life fulfilled is playing 
world class
To be playing all year long on 
the rich green grass

Play with heart, that’s the real 
answer
Of how to play the true game of 
soccer

Details | Soccer Poem | |

The Victory Dance

To play as if today
Is your only chance.
Some say, “It’s just a game.”
Have they done the Victory Dance?

When hard-earned Victory
Was finally at hand,
Have they felt the glory
Raining down from the stands?

To do or not to do….
No one wants to hear, “We tried.”
Effort and dedication will be rewarded… 
And ‘Sooner Magic’ is on your side. 

Yes, to fall short is still an option;
But much better to succeed.
Heroes are made and remembered
Only by their deeds.

So, just go out and win.
Give your all to each and every chance.
Persevere and achieve…

And do the Victory Dance.


Details | Soccer Poem | |

Soccer

The soccer ball thy shall kick to that place
where there is a net hung on the crossbar.
Thy shall play hard with my power and pace.
I take that free kick and score from afar.

Forwards and midfields need a lot of speed.
Without strength the body will take its toll.
There is one more thing these players will need.
The desire to shoot and score the goal!

The goalkeeper has to be very tall
to keep the ball out and to save the game.
He will need to get up fast if he falls.
The goalies job will always be the same.

As you can see soccer can be real tough.
To play you need to be quick or real buff.

Details | Soccer Poem | |

Soccer

I finally have my soccer ball;
I've spent hours working on my ball control.
This sport, I enjoy it;
It feels good to finally try it.





©2012 Honestly JT

Details | Soccer Poem | |

THE FALL

its season for this reason
frist  break
of school new take
mabe  you catch wall ball
THIS IS
THE FALL

Details | Soccer Poem | |

Soccer-No greater Sport

I grabbed my shin guard and boot
And head out with my team unto the pitch
The crowd goes wild, old and young, all hooting
The horns of the cars and the vuvuzela’s all tooting
Super Sports, Sky Sports, BBC and ESPN- all reporting 
 
 The game kicks off, Tony in post
Anchored by Fish, Tuga, Razak and Bruce
 Pirlo on the left, Tsidi in the middle, Speelo on the right
Saviola, Siyabonga and Blagodzi will be at the fore-front of the fight
Souls wrestle for supremacy, the crowd still alive and sparkling all night

Go Mighty Panda! Go Mighty Panda!!
The away crowd in purple, black and Green cheers wildly 
Referee whistles for a foul and issues Tuga his second yellow
Two yellow cards means an automatic sending off of Tuga, my fellow
Down by a man yet not giving up, Coach makes a substitution as Noni comes on for Speelo

We’re taking things cool and calm
The opposition getting frustrated after 80 minutes
My teammates attacking and defending with an irresistible power 
As the pendulum of action swings from one tower to the other tower
I took the game into my own hands and blast a ‘gargo’ shot in the eleventh hour


The home crowd goes silent
The 40,000 hooting crowd goes quiet
That thunderbolt from Siyabonga won us the cup
When the game is over the wining team gets a thump up
The losing team goes home to prepare for next season and to get fired up

The Poet Preacher © 2013

Details | Soccer Poem | |

How Important Can a Soccer Game Be

How Important Can a Soccer Game Be?


By Elton Camp


What recently happened in Egypt is an extreme example
But evidence of violence at soccer games is fully ample

Reports of such sports violence by fans is nothing new
But that seventy people were killed is shockingly true

Fans of the losing team out onto the field did stream
Used sharp objects, rocks metal pipes and did scream

Police or security forces were nowhere to be seen
To control those fans so violent, cruel and mean

Some Egyptians feel that the fight as actually a plan
So those who displease the authorities they can ban

What really happened, we may never come to know
But it is a disgrace when things like this become so 


Details | Soccer Poem | |

World Cup 2014

Pain in Spain
Bland England
Shame in the game
Who do you blame
When your approach is lame
Three lions or three blind mice?
I wonder

Details | Soccer Poem | |

Soccer Sucks

Soccer really sucks.
In real football they kick butt.
And what’s with the shorts?

Details | Soccer Poem | |

Soccer

I love Soccer with a passion 
The game is rough
Skills are required
You play with your feet not with your hands
You do long kicks to make you close to scoring
You can score with your feet or your head
The goalie uses his hands to prevent scores
The sport is popular around the world
Every four years the World cup is played
Players represent the country they love
Fans travel from around the world to support their country
The crowd goes wild when a goal is scored and the players celebrate
The commentator yell's out the sound of........Gooooooooool!!!!!


Details | Soccer Poem | |

The inpact of sports

I love to stay involed with my community.One of the ways I do that is by playing 
sports. Playing sports is a great way to meet new people. It’s fun because when I 
go to some of the other high schools I see people from our old teams who you 
are playing against now. Everyone involved in sports here at Mercy High is 
encouraging and supporting. The sports I am involved in are cross country, 
basketball, and soccer.   
	One of the sports I do is cross country. This is the first year I have 
ever done cross country. It has been extremely fun being on the cross country 
team because all the girls on the team are super nice. During every race they will 
be there cheering me on, even if I am the last one too cross the finish line. I think 
that running can be boring, but my parents, coaches and other runners always 
encourage me. The main reason I am doing cross country though is to stay in 
shape for basketball.
	My favorite sport is basketball, which I play in the winter. I have been 
playing basketball ever since I was a second grader. Basketball is my favorite 
sport because I love the way the game is constructed..  Basketball is a team 
sport. You could be the best player in the world but have awful teammates which 
could results in a loss. 
	During the Spring I play soccer. Just like basketball, soccer is a team 
sport. You need to be able to communicate with the other players. I have been 
playing soccer almost my whole life. Soccer is a great sport for anyone to play 
because when you are younger the soccer ball and fields are all smaller. Some 
sports are to hard to play when you are young because you don’t have the 
strength.

Details | Soccer Poem | |

Sweet


Never saying die, their courage sorely tested, 
they fought so valiantly to win one more; 
seemingly defeated, they always battled back, 
then Damon put the Yankees on the floor. 

With scarcely any time to blink or even catch their breath, 
the Bean Town boys were destined for St. Lou 
to play a franchise known for their ability 
to hit 'em deep, and steal a base or two. 

It was never even close to being a contest, 
we clipped their wings and made the Red Birds crawl; 
from Foulke to Millar for the final killing, 
our RED SOX are the CHAMPIONS of them ALL!

Details | Soccer Poem | |

I'm the Power Player

10
I sprint as I cry in pain
Coach yells, “ RUN, PASS, SCORE”
9
Blocking out all the screaming
And the chaotic noises
8
From the sidelines
I dash through five tough defenders
With everything that I have got
7
Out of breath I devour the last of energy 
I can use to score the winning goal
6
Ball zigzags in between my bright orange cleats
As I fly through many obstacles that 
Get in my way
5
Five seconds left in the game
Will it make it in I think as my fingers are crossed
4
All the pressure is on that ball and I
As it soars over the field where I am myself and
Flies to high for the other team players to get
3
The ball tears through the goalie's gloves.
 No one can drop the confidence level I have just received 
2
The ball collides against the net, and I have caught a joyous victory
That exact moment pays up for the backbreaking, painstaking work I've put in
With every goal I score, I rule the world
1
That’s why I am the Power Player of the team
I don’t give up because I’m all determination 
For my love of Soccer

Details | Soccer Poem | |

The Big Game

The Big Game
It was that day When I was afraid. But became the man with all of my fans. I remember my fist goal that hit one of the poles. It was an one of those moments to say I wasn't broken. I brought all my skills in my grill. I bring it to my games so I can win the fame. Ever since I knew something. I was SoccerBorn.

Details | Soccer Poem | |

My Father's cleats

 It’s funny how my father’s hobby became mine. He has been a sportsman all his life, he played basketball, volleyball and softball all his youth, but his real passion is soccer and even though he is 55 years old now, he still keeps playing it and loving it. He has had all kinds of cleats, all brands, all colors, different styles, but it does not change anything, he still plays amazing. But one thing I do find hilarious is that every time he comes from a game, he cleans his cleats, he washes them and takes them with such an unbelievable affection, that I’m beginning to think that he might love them more than he loves me, but now I do know the feeling of a new shiny, hard and beautiful pair of cleats. I still recall when he took me for my very first pair, I could not believe he was doing it for me, I was so excited, but now I realize that what I was excited about is that I could be like my father for just a moment when I had them on. Ever since I was little, I remember my daddy playing soccer, leaving home all dressed up, ready to fight, and win the ball to make a remarkable roll on the field. The playing field that we both love, the field all covered in grass, all green, so delicious and soft, so colorful… being crashed by everyone’s cleats and the rolling ball, feeling the sunlight on our skin, and the wind on our faces. Having a team, an extra family with whom we could find support and create new ideas, new plays so we could smash the opponent. So yes, I loved watching him play and cheering him up more than I could ever like watching official and famous soccer teams. I do find funny the fact that my father’s hobby became mine since everyone says we’re too similar, and even though he also has a son, his daughter is with whom he shares that connection. I love the fact that our simple relationship was started thanks to such a manly sport, and curiously, to transform me into such a girly girl.

Details | Soccer Poem | |

Football

Zillion supporters screaming, a loud buzz,
 Yearning to return home cheered by victory.
 Xerox machines preparing the next day’s papers; Max
 Wit for the shame or fame of a member of the show.
 Violent vitriol from commentators like engine rev
 Unites with supporters’ glee at likes of Eto’o or Kanu
 To spur skill at each minute to get even one stunning stunt
 Spirits soar, sink, so it is, for here serenity bores.
 Roulette, lifté, counter-attack by one party raising the roar.
 Quick kick! Oh no! Replay?! Why not? That must join the FAQ
 Pray the corner kick slays the opponent; oh that header was sharp!
 Oh he missed that goal again! No replay?! Hell no!
 No! Now he’s channeled that ball too late for the man,
 May the coach coach correctly and call him to quit the team!
 Leave the pitch you little loss-bringing imp! LOL!
 Khaki-wearing “messer” I can even get your reek!
 Just as our jests are about to milk out laughs, I couldn’t find a word to end with “J”.
Instead I had a whole lot of them J-starting words. So I
 Hunched to think, but then looked up at the BROOHAH:
 GOAL GOAL!! Oops the scorer is the "Mr. Bug"!
 Fooled? No, I’m still for him leaving,( Scoring oaf!)
 Even though this elation, release and joy, came from his device!
 Defensive tactics, offensive backing up, I can almost get mad
‘Cos the best defense is attack Doc!
 Bye losers, we took this easy. Supporters bob
 Away, and the whole stadium sleeps in the starlight bathed by mother Luna.

(c) Nyonglema

Details | Soccer Poem | |

The Football Manager

Translating ideas through energetic muscles and calculative minds is his doing knowledgeable tricks and wise options converted to the physical for the honour and glory is his aim. The one at the top of the chain possesses his own repertoire. A personality with tactical onus is the one and only expectation. Catastrophic it is; when such a charisma is tempered with An effective philosophy gives him fame but ambiguity in strategy wins the point a winning atmosphere brings out his etiquette a loss- he treats so diabolical. Every attack is a litmus test mental kunfu blended naturally with physical dynamism in display closing down angles, tight markings speed injection, courage cultivation, identity-showing formations with opponent-neutralizing weapons, massive onslaught, defensive solidity and quick counters all for a harvest of victory coming from the equations of his thoughts watered by distinctive motivational skills. A team player who's always outside the line The football Manager is he!

Details | Soccer Poem | |

WORLD CUP

Our heroes roar
There they are
Flags held high
Voices raised too high
Eyes raised so high
Heads up in the sky
The spirit of football so much
They are our heroes
To play it all
All mouths are wide open
Throats always yelling out
Our heroes truly roar
Our hearts stir to the rhythm
While we watch the ball
We widen our souls in the stadium
One world on the pitch
We catch the ball in our eyes
We all kick it
‘****in **** we goin to do it’
The cries of victory make us sane
The laughter for the goal
The red card curse
The yellow fuss
It’s in the news ;’what a hurray’
They win or lose
The heroes kick up the wind
And kick up the sun’s rays
Till the sweat reminds us of the power
We want them to get the cup for us
When they do we promise to hail them
Though not all of us can have it
Those who lose want to kill
But we remember more excitedly
It’s better than the world war three
It’s the world cup
Those who put their lips to it
Will play it and play it
Because our heroes roar! And roar!








Details | Soccer Poem | |

Watching My Son

I watched my son at his soccer game
Run away from the soccer ball;
I watched my son strike out four times
In his game of Little League baseball;
I watched my son at his football game
Sitting still on the end of the bench;
I watched my son dribble the ball off his foot
Helping the other team, the game to clench.

I watched my son at the holiday chorus
Never move his lips when the class did sing;
I watched my son at the school assembly
Not get an award for anything;
I watched my son at the science fair
Display a project that came out wrong;
I watched my son at his piano recital
Play a totally unrecognizable song.

I wake up every morning and thank the Lord
For making me such a proud Pop;
That boy of mine, wouldn’t you know,
Is a regular chip off the old man’s block.

Details | Soccer Poem | |

The Beautiful Game

I hate soccer I hate it so much I don’t call it football I call it soccer,
It is a pointless boring game involving no impressive skill or reward,
An exhausting inane farce that distracts millions from reality,
I hate the English; I hate them so much I call them stupid peasants,
Angry, hateful, mostly retarded fools, who are utterly enslaved by their government, 
Ignorant of the facts, they are not free or strong, coward thugs protected by their enslavement,
Ancient tribes once roamed those beautiful isles, each with its own shamanic tradition,
Each with its own herb lore, astrological systems, martial, music, sculptural and visual arts,
Each with its own deep mystical language with roots into the fabric of creation,
Destroyed and overtaken by poisoned humans who were consumed by ego and greed,
Languages and traditions destroyed and replaced by a fake slave language and a fake slave religion.
All of Northern Europe was conquered but nowhere so badly retarded as England and from there it spread.
The scourge eventually destroyed all free peoples of the world even the Native American’s and Tibetans.
And soccer embodies the stupidity of the enslaved, a twisted treat for the cowed masses.

Details | Soccer Poem | |

RONALDO

R eally is número uno

O riginal R9

N othing less than the best

A thletic, skillful with speed, Haile Supreme

L egend of all legends

D one it all won it all

O fenomeno

 

©Copyright August 18, 2014 by Brian Pierre-Alexander
© All Rights Reserved

 

 

"Tribute to the best player the world have seen"

Details | Soccer Poem | |

Friday

Friday is a busy day
There are so many things to do
Like soccer practice, shopping, homework
And a lot more things too

In soccer practice we do a lot of things
That our coach teaches us for good
Like frying eggs on a grill
But I don’t think we should

When we go shopping we buy
Hamburgers, pizza, and candy
I don’t know why we buy that stuff
And when it will come handy

When I do my homework 
I’m already half asleep
I know I have to do it
I can’t just go to sleep

Then I will come home
When at last I fall in to bed
I realize that tomorrow
I have an even busier day ahead

On Saturday morning when I wake up
I will go to the kitchen and eat
The leftovers from yesterday 
Vegetables and meat

Then I will put on my shoes
And go outside
Into the cool fresh air
Of the countryside 
 
During the weeks of the year
All my days are the same
You can’t tell them apart
Even by the name

Details | Soccer Poem | |

The World Cup

The world's abuzz with soccer
Though I couldn't give a hoot.
I wouldn't even have a clue
For which team I should root.

The bars are packed with rousing fans;
I don't begrudge their cheers,
But I prefer a tennis match
To savor with my beers.

I'd also watch the Yankees play
'Cause baseball's what I know,
Though baseball-haters claim the game's
Inordinately slow.

So while the teams do battle
With the World Cup as the prize,
I'll find a book or other show
To occupy my eyes.