Best Football Field Poems
At Texas A & M, he played at quarterback.
The young man led a prolific offensive attack.
He gave up his last two years at college.
Apparently, he needed money more than the knowledge.
He was selected by an NFL team in the first round.
This fall, at a football field in Cleveland he will be found.
Johnny, put on that helmet and pads right away.
Browns fans are hoping you will save the day.
In a moment of understandable frustration with me,
My wife demanded to know what I really believed in.
I thought for a minute, tear glands filling,
"The essential goodness of my parents."
My mother was a child of the great city of Philadelphia,
In hard times in a hard family, soon to fracture,
She withdrew from the days when her father would leave his little girls
In the car all afternoon in back alleys near the taverns,
From which he would emerge, full of volume and vomit.
She grew through school, emerging herself to be a wonderful mom,
To kindle her children's interest in the physical world,
Geology, astronomy, physics, and the patterned realms
Of painting, music, and poetry.
She showed me that she loved me.
She showed me that parents were people.
She showed me that parents were fallible,
That not everything could be controlled,
And that that was okay too.
My father was a child of the land,
Of farming in the age of innocence,
Long ago down in the southern part of the state of Indiana.
He knew of seeds, of frost, of the earth and time,
Of rock and root, of wind and drought and rain.
He never complained about rain - we kids didn't like the muddy yard
That was supposed to be a football field - he'd say,
"Tell you what - I'll take the rain. I've seen the other."
The most honest man I know, the most honest person that could ever be,
He watched the night sky with me when I said, "Moon and tar."
He took me to a hardware store on a stormy summer Saturday,
Dark clouds coming close, in a car with the thicker sheet metal of the old days.
Just as we parked, the first raindrops, that irregular rhythm, compelling,
"Hey Doug! Would you listen to that rain?! Let's just sit here for a while."
We sat with the rain on the roof as it began in earnest,
That rain of a thousand thousand hits,
A million baby birds doing their firecracker tap dance above us,
That rain that has lasted me the rest of my life.
December 31, 2016.
For Brenda Chiri-Carroll's contest - 'Who has inspired you most in your life.'
Rain is brewing;
black clouds hang over the Cockpit Country.
Them rainclouds have a habit of shifting colors like a lizard.
The smell of the pending shower is strong on September’s breath;
the sun take a well-deserved break.
Mango season is long gone,
and bellies are tied up in knots.
Naseberries; they accompanied the mangoes.
Them guys from abroad,
who bought the government land across from the football field,
slaughtered them faithful guava trees.
They build condos,
but poor people can’t eat condos.
How inconsiderate them big-shot government boys are.
We (me, Footloose, and Squealie) device a plan,
when our bellies start telling us something must be done,
but we have to wait ‘til darkness falls,
‘cause bushes have eyes in sunlight.
While everyone sleeps in the bosom of the night,
we put on our birthday suits,
and scale the barbed wire fence at the back of the house.
We are now one with the blinding shadows.
We race carelessly across the open pasture;
burrs biting at our tender flesh,
and mosquitoes humming maddening music in our ears.
We tip toe on the dry leaves,
using our hands as shields
to fend off the razor-sharp edges of the cane leaves.
We drop down on all four, bellies on the ground;
we navigate the rows like them American marines – naked and all.
We ate our full,
and Squealie wet the bed that night.
Them sugarcane have a way of making us hyper.
Footloose fell from a Poinciana tree and fractured his hand,
but we stayed energized that fall.
*Amazingly awesome is my God
*My heavenly Father … *Fountain of life
*My sovereign Lord *At my heart’s throne
*Triumph of my spirit.
*Meeting God is a great event to me…
*My best friend, *Jesus Christ my Saviour and Lord
*Prince of peace offered His love to me
*In my wretchedness --- *Beautiful mystery.
*The guiding Light, *The Lord directs me, *Steward of God
*From now on *With virtues poise
*Onward to my celestial abode
*Beyond the sky.
*Shining victory, *God is my companion in my walk
*In the football field of life *So blessed
*Beyond rehabilitation triumph:
*My battle against slothfulness.
*Despite crises, *Abandonment angst, *Dread of separation
*I trust God, *My Saviour, *Servant-Leader
*My service-Mover … *Faith’s strength
*My soul’s thank praise…
*Doctor of heart, *My God knows my need
*Compassionate… *God gives me second chances
*Midst frustration, *God is at work in my afflictions
*Bestowed with grace-bounty…
*The Star in my poetry,
*God is the foremost and center of my life
*Sovereign brain,
*The Lord conquers me…
*With earnestness, I express:
*You are so good to me, my God
*You deserve my praises, Lord
*I love** You, my Saviour.
*My Poem's Title posted on Poetry Soup
**Joshua 23:11 Take good heed therefore unto yourselves, that ye love the LORD your God.
July 8, 2019
1st place, "Collaboration Of Your Titles" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Charles Messina; judged on 7/14/2019.
Orbiting earth, a man made creation
It looks like a moving star shining bright
It's the international space station
Big as a football field; an awesome sight
Orbits the earth sixteen times day and night
Launched in November nineteen ninety eight
A huge four hundred and fifty ton weight
Six men and women form the stations crew
Always a concern it may gravitate
So orbital height they have to review.
Written 17th May 2020
For Dizain - Poetry Contest
Sponsored By Dear Heart .
You watched it on TV
And you might have wondered why
Colin knelt on that football field
What was he attempting to try?
The narrative of his actions
Were about America's attitude
Towards Black men
How they've been lynched, harassed
And murdered again, again and again
Yes he got the attention of the world
Especially this nation
He started a dialog
Of unparalleled participation
And when the so-called powers that be
Showed their true colors
As their prejudice was aired
The movement then flourished
Took on a life of its own
And fruit it now has bared
To kneel or not to kneel
On what principles do you stand?
To kneel or not to kneel
Racism is alive and doing well in this land
As people of color we will no longer
Compartmentalize our pain
And our degradation
We now stand bold and unapologetic
In righteous indignation
We give our God the glory
Because in our hearts we truly know
That He's the Creator and the one who's
Really running this show
To kneel or to take a knee
Is not a sign of disrespect
But a gesture to show honor, esteem
And merit as one genuflects
For every knee shall bow
and every tongue shall confess
That Jesus the name above all other names
Is sovereign and blessed
And as we take a knee in the church
Or on the football field
We kneel in privilege and in protest
To let the world know how we feel
For when one is knighted
one kneels in supplication
And when a soldier has fallen
All kneel in commiseration
And when we kneel to pray
To Father God our heavenly Lord
We are showing respect and reverence
To Him in all accord
Colin didn't realize that his actions
Were pregnant with infinite possibilities
That by kneeling he opened the eyes
Of this nation and revealed its frailties
To kneel or not to kneel
Jesus Himself did kneel in fact
He took a knee for all of us
To let us know He had our backs
TO KNEEL OR NOT TO KNEEL
Argentina's son, a lineage to immigrants
shaped by boyhood aspirations
diminutive left foot striker
taunted "dwarf" in childhood
his growth hormone deficiency
overcome through meds and workouts
a counter to foes physically imposing
Messi's daily slog of skills
agility and balance
slow grind of mastery to mesh the skills to speed
on the football field, Messi dribbles through opponents
pivots round defenders, takes an opposite direction
accelerates
de-accelerates
takes stock of field positions
awareness like a lordly hawk that calculates its prey
a kick triggered whittles through the air
the ball's stinging centre,
flight controlled
at a goal keeper spiralling to the ground
this FIFA World Cup champion
devout in faith
celebrates goals by a gaze upward
a pointed hand to the heavens
another field of his embracing
790 - Messi's career goals for Barcelona clubs and
Argentinean glory
football awards that roll on like credits on a movie screen
on field moves that burrow into memory
through the entanglement of limbs
Messi's footwork, like a dancer's gift
his sprints to fill the field with unheeding power
midst the bulging roar of fans
a homage to glorify the footballer
before he fades
to legend
Poem written January 4, 2023
On the football field young Davy hurt his knee
Lots of excruciating pain, yes-sir-ee,
He is never a quitter
Says he is never fitter
Continuing playing to win is the key.
May 11, 2021
for "Quitters Never Win" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Margarita Lillico
Excitement is brewing for the play-off game,
who to claim a podium close-up fame,
winner of 2018 21st FIFA World Cup's name.
Scheduling and planning their dream
to cheer on their favorite team.
Fans at the game watching united,
dressed in their lucky sports team attire, delighted,
cold, getting rained on, and excited.
Television armchair football enthusiast
muttering, "C-o-o-l call. Revenge at last."
He follows every move, wishing he was there,
but at home watching on his big screen, a bear.
Everyone in the stadium is bouncing off the walls,
inspiring cheers and rants, raves and calls.
While the Armchair enthusiast with his own calls,
within his walls his soul appalls.
The hero standing in the middle of a melee, with a thin
breeze around the football field, using a Cruyff Turn spin,
then brilliantly threading the ball home winning
the World Cup for his country. It’s only the beginning.
6/25/2018
The championship has been awarded every four years since the inaugural tournament in 1930 for except in 1942 and 1946 when it was not held because of the Second World War, a global war that lasted from 1939 to 1945.
Poetry Contest: 2018 World Cup
Sponsored By: Mark Toney
Watching a Buffalo Bills game Last night.
I was shocked to see a player down!
Lying on his back, to our surprise!
We hoped, You get up from the ground.
It was more serious then we knew.
As you were fighting for your life.
As the Nation prayed for you.
Praying you would live, not die.
Two opposing teams stopped and prayed.
Never witnessed on a football field.
Compassion and love were shown that day.
As Humanities finest hour, was revealed.
Michael Tor
Since his injury his Toys for Kids
Charity has received Six million
dollars more and is growing
at 6000 dollars an hour.
Please pray for Damar Hamlin
he suffered a serious injury
playing football for the Buffalo
Bills against the Cincinnati Bengals.
On my computer
I
play
songs of the late 1970's
My seed time
as it were
ELP, Yes, and King Crimson
Perhaps I will pick up a recording by
Nice
they did a great version of "America"
from West Side Story
or perhaps I shall return to the fold era
or flip on some Dvorak
Music and poetry
enables us to touch unreality
but only if we let it
Some recommend Beethoven and Bach
Others Chuck Berry and James Brown
Attempted to play the French horn when I was younger
what a gorgeous sound that instrument can make
The Beatles and the Rolling Stones used ti
So did we at Midwood High
AS we marched down the football field
Cool autumn days
remind us
of leaves turning color, football
and the beginning of the school year
I remember those days
As age creeps in
I attend poetry
readings
and volunteer at Poets House
read a lot of verse
Poets House has Israeli, Afro - American, Chinese, Puerto Rican poetry
and much more
The world needs poetry and song
And so doe we , friends
Have we but all the time under the sun
I won’t have journey alone to faraway mountain
To secure the destiny of the commoners from the Jews
I could have waited until the conversion of the Jews
But destiny has its own way of dealing on individuals
Am gone out of the surface but not from your heart
Free the birds without songs but not my slaves
Until the blacks are free from bribery and corruption
Shall I return to announce that I am black
Black in the heart, black in the body and soul
Return the paradise to my people in Nkporoland
Paradise lost, jungle regained in the African kingdom
If tomorrow never come as I journey down
Say me well to Nkporoland for she is a true mother
She beheld me in her arms and cleansed my tears
Fed me with her succulent breast with no sad face
Say ne well to oganigwe, the great hunter
We danced under the rain before the sun when
The colonial masters returned the titles to us.
Then we shared wives and mistress in the dark
To igwebuike, he acted just like his name
He stood against all odds to raise the Biafran flag
During the war between the two elephants of the forest
Say me well to them that wished me journey mercy to the field
The football field is large but my broad heart is large
If you could separate the three hands of the fan
You could separate my love for the unborn generations
Say me well to my children, children of the eagle
I look not in pain rather I drive to achieve my aims
Say me well to my wife- my growing vegetable
Words unsaid hurt a lot in the heart of the beholder
Never abandon my wish for the days are evil.
Poor doggy in the hard rain
no umbrella to hide the pain
housing society gates shoo them out
space under parked cars in knee-deep troughs
men and women stuck indoors, sip hot tea
children barred from school sing do re me
closed offices due to waterlogged streets
white and black clouds play hide and seek
sailed paper boats in the curly road water
drowned by waves of passing vehicle tire
memories of rain in the football field
chase the ball on wet grass, slide on the heel
a crow picks a crumb from claws of another
quickly beaks a crumb lying in a corner
Love is a verb, has action you should know
Actions speaks louder than words
You may say your gonna do something
But you're still sitting in your reclinner
Actions speaks louder than words
That pot you've got on the stove will burn
Actions speaks louder than words
On the football field the coach calls the plays
But actions speaks louder than words
I'm a sinner, saved by grace I've repented
But actions speaks louder than words
You said "I do" as well as "I love you"...
But actions speak louder than words
You say you can, as well as you can't...
But actions speaks louder than words
To build a brick house you need workers, mortar, brick and stone
Alas, actions speaks louder than words
Your driving you run a stop sign, get pulled over by a policeman
But actions speak louder than words
You brag and boast that you can cook, yet you can't even boil water
You stand in front of the stove and you don't even know
How to turn the eye on
Actions speaks louder than words
Now you may read these lines, comment and say their find
Your actions speaks louder than words
11/15/17
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
“Fédération Internationale de Football Association”… that’s FIFA’s whole name
“International Federation of Association Football” is its English translation claim
“F" in FIFA Women’s Cup can stand for “Females” who play the sport-game
“Achievements” of ladies are highlighted midst acceptance issues’ flame.
Women’s Football as Women’s Game of victory, wows me along its history
Opening me to gender-reality concerns, subjugated by resilience-glory…
Meeting marginalization-struggles, moving despite global ban’s misery
Empowered energetic lady football enthusiasts exhibited mastery
Nurtured with zealous trainings to become exemplary…
Savoring triumph while influencing others by their determination-story.
World now watches the lady football warriors of women’s dignity-height
Oh, to me, an avenue to celebrate accomplishments with delight
Recognizing and respecting athletes in their own right
Learning from them as they do their best with all their might
Determined to succeed and persevere, despite pain, in the fight*.
Called to be a soccer champion in life’s football field through faith’s gesture
Upheld am I by God, my Sovereign Coach, upon His cup of service-venture…
Playing, praying, performing well with my team to win for His exalted posture.
*2 Timothy 4:7 “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.”
July 5, 2019
3rd place, "2019 FIFA Women's World Cup" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney; judged on 7/12/2019