Fame and football
This morning, a British newspaper read
On the net, a news item was written about a family
called Beckham, a son who wanted to leave
and find his own way
I thought the story was irrelevant and fit as
a news item
The Tv evening news in Portugal showed
the same story, with photos of members
of the afflicted family; one can say it was
a banal story that often happens in families
and often get solved by time, and why would
That story interests viewers in Portugal
It has later been pointed out to me that
A Beckham was a famous footballer married
to a woman who used to be on TV.
Fame is like a red wine spot on a carpet
It takes years to rinse off and get on with life
JUST A DREAM
When I was young and still had dreams,
I dreamt of fame and fortune.
With all the recklessness of youth
I had no doubts.
I knew
I knew I’d be a household name one day.
Perhaps a second Beckham
Or like Botham in his awesome prime.
Or, failing that, an actor
A mega-star of screen and stage
With Oscars on my mantelpiece.
No, hang on,
Yes, a politician
Ending up in number ten
But now I’ve reached maturity,
All that has passed me by.
No public recognition,
Just a childhood dream.
My ‘phone’s not been tapped illegally
My e-mails remain un-hacked.
Nobody follows my wife around
In case she meets a lover.
And, outside my door,
The paparazzi are conspicuous
By their absence.
I wait in vain to be approached
By the Leverson Enquiry.
So now I have to face the facts.
My childhood dreams are gone.
And when I die, I’ll literally
Go down in history.
5th June 2023
Dreaming poetry contest
Sponsor - Regina McIntosh
"Where are you now?"
Where were you when l needed perspective from the perception of imperfections?
Where were you when l fell of the ledge trying to be like Lil Uzi Vert pushed to egde cause all my friends were gone?
Where were you on that silent night not on Yuletide , on that full moon when the lights went off and all they did was howl on my doorstep , alone and afraid?
Where were you when l shouted for help ....my voice echoing in pain , in chains like Oliver Queen incarsarated for the mistake of justice?
Where were you when they turned their backs on me and left me with stab wounds , when vultures ripped my skin with sharp beaks and into tiny eesty beesty pieces l was ripped to dust?
Where were you when the chapter of our souls curved a highway to our eyes for the realisation of betrayal?
Saved by grace. Camphorated by grit and self love. Never gave up on the true soulmate of my life, myself! Divine energy renewed. On caffeine , alert and ready .... strength renewed like Samson . Glowing and blooming like David Beckham.
Here you are, now that l am back on my feet again. Where are you now?
I remember
Campbell had scored
'98 and 04'
would have beat Portugal
or the Argies before,
and then Lampard's was cruel
would have made it 2 all
but the goal's over ruled
finished 1 goal to 4
Maradona's hand ball
later scoring once more,
Penalties were not scored
England beaten by draws
90 was the first
96 still hurts
98 was the third
knocked out unbeaten
then 06 and 04
penalties, Portugal,
losing 5 games through draws
could have been so much more
we were unbeatable
and I remember
Beckham v Greece
beating German's was sweet
oh that 5-1 defeat
and thrashing Holland
3 Lions on a shirt
England still believing
5 decades of hurt
but soon we'll be unbeaten
Paris, Berlin, Madrid and Rome
surely football's coming home
How was your day ?
Well i had planned on buying myself
My favorite David Beckham fragrance
But ended up instead choosing
Blue Jeans by Versace
Because i liked the tin
It was packaged in
And now i stink
So today's lesson i learned is this
Rather stick to what you know
Than buying into glossy packaging
Like posting daily inconsequential
Fluff and empty air
On social network's
Like Instagram , Facebook and Twitter
They are eating what's inside the dust bin! Yuck! Duck! Plug! ....Pooh! Woo! Doo!
No ways l am going back ehlathini! Kanti nithini?
Ngiyazithemba!
I am Zulu!
I am Sotho!
I am Tswana!
I am Pedi!
I am Shona!
I am Tsonga!
I am Afrikaner!
No l am biased! Freedom and peace brought us unity....we are all made of gold! Take a look at how we shine!
The ancestors of Africa!
The heartbeat of the Mother Land , the continent rich with culture! Sweet soil decadent like sweet Hennessy.... drowning our sorrows! Together we strong , divided cracks flood our Rainbow.
Africa Stand up! Unite
Let a Dictator like Bob fall down! You are not Mahat Maghandi ! We forgave but the wounds still annoys us, frustrations in the form of Vandalism....#feesmustfall #strikes #xenophobia Mzansi you have been through a lot....take a seat you are still young! 23 like the prime of David Beckham....fresh like grilled cheese.
My mother land you are truly a spectacle....you are blessed, your sons and daughters are strong.
Black ,White , Asian and Disabled this is a plea to the Nation of an African giant "Nigeria" Terrorism must stop!
Iam an African kid .... with an African dream.
I AM A MAN WITH AN GOLDEN EYE
AND THATS' WHY I DON'T BOTHER ABOUT MY BRAIN DEAD
ALL I WANT IS TO ENTER THE DRAGON
- IN THE SHANGAI NOON
'COS I AM A DARE DEVIL AND ITS MY BASIC INSTICT
ALSO I HAVE THE RING
AND THAT'S THE SWEETEST THING OF ME
WHEN I BEND IT LIKE BECKHAM
AND MY MISSION IMPOSSIBLE
MY WORLD IS NOT ENOUGH FOR ME ME
THE GHOST IN ME SAYS, CATCH ME IF YOU CAN
AND I RUN,
COS' MY BLOOD TIED OF AN INDECENT PROPOSAL
IF I WERE UNFAITHFUL AND MY TOMORROW NEVER DIES
THEN I WILL BE THE UNHOLY, YET
ALL OF MY DAYS WERE SPENT IN THE HAUNTING
JUST LIKE NOTTING HILL,
EVEN THOUGH I WERE A GLADIATOR
I WAS KISSED BY THE PERFECT STORM
AND STOOD ALONE IN THE DEEP BLUE SEA,
BETWEEN THE MEN OF HONOR, I WAS LIKE A HOLLOW MAN
YET TO BECOME LIKE CONAN THE BARARIAN
FINALLY, I LEARNT THAT THESE WERE THE END OF DAYS
BUT I WANNA DIE ANOTHER DAY
She designs clothes
He prefers the ones
That he doesn’t wear much of
But what he does he hmmmmm’s
What a picture he makes
In his nearly clothes
So sexy even with his tatts
Makes me curl my toes
Now he loves football
Making loads of dosh
She doesn’t play that game
But loves to shop does Posh
He has a brilliant smile
She looks like she sucked a lemon
But opposites attract
Their marriage was made in heaven
You will see them out and about
She stick thin with false boobs
He with his muscles all aglow
Definitely is not a noob*
Neither were in line
When brains were dished out**
But he with his attributes
She with her pout
Have made it so far
With money and love
Children they adore
Two turtle doves
*a person whose participation and interactions display a lack of knowledge.
** he is known as being not exactly brain of Britain – a thicko I think was the
expression, so is she, except for her designing skills)
Posh and David Beckham
After school I went straight to the church yard
to play soccer dreaming of being another Rossi or Beckham...
oh, every teenager has this dream when playing that game,
trying to get through defense and get that goal to excite the crowd!
And it happened quite often, getting many handshakes
from players of the opposite team admiring my technic,
but some in my team, couldn't hide their envy as they heard those shouts!
Thanks to their resentment, I became more determined, not weak!
After graduating from High School, our team broke up;
we all went different ways, never putting those memories aside,
memories of that school yard where the balmy breeze made one feel alive!
Very sad was our goodbye: hugging and crying, wishing one another good luck.
C hivalry is not dead but alive in a gallant gentleman like me
H ailed as honorable, my desire is to treat each woman like a queen
I nspired by the Lord, I live each day dutifully by the Word of God
V aliance, a trait I aspire to, fighting for truth even though I am flawed
A lways courteous and polite, respectful in my speech and actions
L oving my neighbors and enemies as myself in all my interactions
R eaching for the stars, I dare to dream yet keep my feet upon the ground
Y ears from now, I will have no regrets for I gave love abound
*The picture is David Beckham on a white stallion. If I'm going to be a guy, I might as well be a good looking one!
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, March 2, 2012
For the If I Were A Boy contest (Frank Herrera)
The Last Sunday of October.
Vilamoura marina on a glorious October day, tourists gone home
leaving the promenade for us elderly to walk sedately along it.
I saw an ancient lady walking forcefully, using a Zimmer frame,
It looked like she was trying to set a new personal record, and
we gave her space. We saw a once famous footballer, sad really
you see them running around a big green field and the next day
they are dated and forty. In case you ask, it wasn’t Beckham.
Many yachts tied up and their owners are allowed to drive their
cars on the promenade, my old socialist heart was ready to revolt.
Cafes were open and served food for us old at reduced price; still
too expensive, it was as idle waiters were eyeing us malevolently.
The Zimmer lady returned I think she had beaten her old record.
Then it was late afternoon and the sea breeze cooled our ardour;
time to go home and drink our cacao.
Parody of Joyce Kilmers ‘Trees’
for Victoria Beckham
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovelier than me
A muse whose hungry mouth is best
Pouting pretty as my breasts
A verse that looks so good all day
And lifts my hands that all might pray
A model that may in summer wear
Parts of animals on my hair
Upon my bosom a sportsman lies
intimate not very wise
poems are made for fools you see
but only God could have made me
Here in Germany today,
going to fly the flag,
it's the friendly England v U.S.A.
Beckham, Rooney, Terry too,
all the fans rooting for you.
Next month,begins the E.M .(Europen Championship)
The flag I can not fly,
England didn't' qualify.
So today make us proud,
let us hear the cheering crowd.
England do your best,
lay the football, ghost's to rest,
and show us what you ,
can do.Score the,
winning goals tonight,
then every thing will be all right.
Tomorrow, when I walk,
out the door,
my neighbour, won't laugh,
about the score!
Like Zidane,
he struggled very hard
to build his name
and become a celebrity.
Like other celebrities,
Micheal Jordan and Jenifer Ropez,
success is the way
to make ourselves great.
Struggling is not death
but a source of joy,
if there's life
and hard work.
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