Best Goalie Poems
I grew up on granddaddy's ranch
There wasn’t a bull I couldn’t conquer
My cowboy boots only came off
When I changed my clothes for soccer
I love the smell of fresh green grass
The sound of the ball hitting the goal post
I love racing down the field
Ya’ll listening? I love soccer it’s the most
Well. let me tell you a little story ‘bout
Flying on a plane
Our team went to Scotland
To play in a big game
My excitement turned to fear
I was just a mess
The players came from the other team
and each one had on a dress
John gave me a flower
I think I saw it wilt
My coach whispered in my ear
Calm down that is a Kilt
Now ya’ll I know I am from Texas
We’re called the Lone star State
We love our fellow man
Ain’t a neighbor that I hate
But to see a handsome boy
Smile and try to flirt
Reach his hand to shake mine
while wearing a wool skirt
I know I know it’s called a Kilt
and it’s a part of their tradition
but what is a girl to do
I’ve never dealt with such conditions
They come in many colors
John’s was green and red
His friend had one of grey and blue
Matched the hat upon his head
The goalie for their soccer team
Was a boy called David Heath
He laughed and whispered in my ear
“We wear nothing underneath.”
Did I mention I’m from Texas?
Well, I ain’t no Southern Belle
The thoughts I had while practicing
Would’ve made my Mama yell
I looked it up in history books
Researched in magazines
To wear one of those in Scotland
Is like a Texan wearing jeans
I tried to act naturally
but all my head could do was tilt
I just had to go back home
and tell the story of the Kilt
finally, about the time the game was at an end
That cute boy from the airport
reached for the ball and had to bend
I still don’t know if he made the goal
I’ll have to ask Coach Milt
because all I saw was what he didn’t wear
underneath his Kilt
03/07/2021
Written for Scotland-One Rule Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Julia Ward
CRAZE DURING FOOTBALL GAME
Up yellows; greens; reds and blue,
tell me! Tell me, who is through?
Passes. Crosses. Headers. Shots.
Volleys, blasters, more scissor kicks
tell me! Tell me, whose on the spot!
Ninety minutes with some overtime
eleven players playing in the field
each one targets to be World Champ!
The strikers and defenders immense
so are Audience claps, dance, rants!
Dripping sweat from turning, running
Tension rising! Twists are rocketing!
Audience wriggling, nonstop cheering!
Thriller, action, comedy plus tragedy,
Oh all are drawn by its classic drama.
Perplex hard attacks, clever corners
rise from a penalty or free kick yell!
Elicits an alarm to goalie keepers' eye
He in eagle's arms and kangaroo leap
Tell me! Tell me, has one scored a goal?
Around the globe, fellas or gents in craze,
amazed and tantalized by Football game!
_________________________________________________
Written 6th of July, 2018 @ 10:46am
O' possum O' possum
Sleep the day away
Await the setting of the sun
before you go and play
As the dusk arrives at last
Awake and stretch your paws
Don't clamber from your tree too fast
Hang tightly with your claws
The brown team 'v' the greys
Its football night you see
they'll use a melon for a ball
with a ring tailed referee
The match is quite a tussle
both teams are very strong
The crowd sit up in the trees
And Hisses them along
A possum breaks loose from the pack
Towards the goal he's bound
The goalie take a single look
Then plays dead upon the ground
The melon bounces of the post
A dustbin crashes to the ground
The crowd invades with fever pitch
To look in and see what's found
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
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!!!!!
Caleb Smith's “Echoes of the Heart” has inspired me to recall those halcyon days long ago on the frozen ponds of my youth.
It was hockey from early morn to the darkening shades of late afternoon with only a short break for a quickly devoured Campbell's Vegetable Soup for lunch. My closest friend was Ken. You very rarely saw one of us without the other, we were inseparable. Our hockey sticks were battered and thin and only bore a slight resemblance to hockey sticks we got each year for Christmas. The pond was a wide frozen body of water beside a well traveled highway to the distant land called the United States. But in our minds it was The Montreal Forum filled with screaming fans cheering on our every move. We would take turns being the great Maurice “The Rocket” Richard while the other would be all-star goalie Jacques Plante! It could have been minus 20 degrees Fahrenheit but we never felt the cold and icy winds... we were superstars.
On a few occasions I have revisited that hallowed ground where we spent hour upon hour, oblivious to time, our faces frozen as well as our ears and our toes! The cheering of the imaginary crowds was all the inspiration we needed to fire a blistering shot through the imaginary pads each other was wearing. At the end of the day, we literally had to crawl home on our hands and knees, our ankles no longer being able to support our tired legs.
Those sweet memories have stayed with me for a lifetime. I'm sure with my last breath of life, the vision of Ken and me will flash before my eyes. Ah yes, hockey, it was what young Canadian boys lived for back then!
© Jack Ellison 2013
You take the shot, the goalie dives, you score!!
12/9/2015 One Liners 4 Sport Sponsored by Silent One (English Football)
A Son's Tribute (spoken at my Dad's Funeral)
A quiet man,
A family man,
A proud to be a father man.
A handy man,
A lively man,
Not known to be a dandy man.
A humble man,
Clear thinking man,
A need to know what's what man.
A warm man,
An organized man,
A man who had a plan, man.
A sailing man,
A camping man,
I'll do it as I said I would man.
A fair man,
An I'll be there man,
I'll help you if I can man.
A deep man,
A neat man,
A standards keep us straight man.
A thinking man,
Light drinking man,
I have responsibilities man.
A technical man,
Get things done man,
A lovely to see him smile man.
A husband man,
Love my family man,
I'll be there when it matters man.
A brother man,
An Uncle man,
A wonderful Grandad all these years man.
A Blackburn man,
A Lancashire man,
Without a northern accent man.
A Rovers fan,
Real football man,
Legendary goalie in his time man.
A gentle man,
A driving man,
Keep going till we get there man.
A homely man,
Come on in, kind of man,
And now, in our hearts and minds man.
A lovely man,
A loving man,
I'd like to go on, but I don't think I can...
Pitcher deals.
Center snaps.
Forward volleys.
Captain kneels.
Wing traps.
Road team rallies.
Runner steals.
Driver laps.
Bookies watch at O'Malleys.
Coach jaws.
Goalie paws.
Mothers pray.
Midfielder moans.
Winners eat macaroons.
Fathers look less gray.
Refs tally the time left
'Til the moon rises.
Fans leave, bereft,
Searching for further surprises.
Small city arena long out of date,
that is where this B-league team plays their games,
young men learning, hopes for fortune and fame.
I watch the practice, they shoot and they skate,
remember back when I was at that weight…
Here at least the ticket prices are sane,
NHL’s prices send shocks through my brain,
this is a fun time, even if they don’t rate.
The clean smell of ice as they drop the puck,
racing past blue lines from board to board,
small man gets cross-checked, he seems out of luck,
then big man in the box for five minutes more,
power play offense, a slap-shot is struck,
bounces of the goalie, a scramble to score…
A former goalie in prison for life
For feeding his dogs parts of his dead wife
Was granted a work-release to play soccer again
For the Brazilian pro soccer team needing a win
Hockey is a game played on ice,
men (assumption) in thick pads,
swaking a 'puck' with sticks.
Tricky thing hockey can be see,
thick pads, icy playing fields...
but best of all, it's the goalie
that's feared the most.
Looking like a nightmare post,
masked monster guarding cave
entry to goal...but what I do know.
I'm having to Google it...
"Hockey is played in the morning"
said Mr. Franklin in the year 1825,
Great Bear takes the prize and
later in years, games were played
with cheers on rinked ice
Still and inside...
Padded demons to each side,
nine their count on the glide...
Slicing the ice as they slide.
A miracle score over a great lake,
pride is at stake as they
ride the blades,
masks of nine to each side.
Wooden the weapons and black
the target, they fix the eyes
and the mind as echos are sliced
into the air of their icy layer.
And Canada began the game,
spreading the echo over the land
and then came bodies they called
the fans. And they cheered!
Bundled in coats mittens and beers
they cheered and the game moved on.
Padded players on the make with
hockey bucks and goals to take
home, the Cup.
~They play for the ;puck~
~I watched them long ago once
in a dream when I was a duck
on the great lake quacking,
and a duckling with luck that the
goalie would save me! Again!
My nest you see was right behind
the demons pride.
And so as a shadow on the goalie's
back I rode, hiding my feathers
of eggs and gold! Whew! Just on time,
for the rainbow's net.Again, came a 10th
on the rink to keep reason.
A fair game invented for a new season.
Gotta love a thing, created in a lake,
called a Goalie during a day when
demons of nine laughed and sang
on the ice,
So wrote the duck of today.
Thank god for TV. That's where you'll
find me, if I ever watch it.
Again
A game to be enjoyed with friends,
is the Penned. ;)
With speed of light
Fast, furious feet
The little boy ran
Not skipping a beat
With breaths of fire
A wish for a goal
He escaped from the pack
With the ball, there in tow
He ran down the field
To the yells of the crowd
Soccer was his game
With a smile, he was proud
He pulled back his foot
He thrust it for a shot
His face turned beet red
As he gave it what he got
But the goalie was hot
As my son took his kick
Sad at that time
That the goal didn’t stick
Off from the field
Still a smile on his face
He knew he did his best
So he still took first place
My boy was so wise
To know at just eight
Not the place that you finish
That makes you seem great
It’s the effort of the person
Doing the best that you can
I couldn’t believe the wisdom
From my boy, this little man
Light travels faster than sound... that's why
Some appear bright till they speak
I'm sure we've all met some people like this
They're not all totally unique
The main reason Santa is always so jolly
He knows where the bad girls reside
Never really thought Santa could be naughty
Sure like to go with him on his ride
A psychiatrist once told me I was crazy
Told him I wanted a second opinion
He said well then, you're quite ugly too
Ain't no cure for that condition
Men have two emotions, hungry and horny
If you see one without an ********
Make the poor man a sandwich, he's hungry
Later you can show him affection
A fortune teller once told me I would marry
Into a very famous Indian tribe
You'll surely become one big Hopi family
And live in a teepee with your bride
The world's fattest man should be a hockey goalie
He'd be famous and go down in history
For never allowing even a single puck past him
The reason is certainly no mystery
I received a degree in Calcium Anthropology
The study of creatures called milkmen
When asking for something on sale at the store
Surprise, it's not available. Amen!
© Jack Ellison 2015
Halloween at the Bates Hotel
The attendant in the Ghostface rig was kinda creepy,
When I came in to pay the gas I owed.
“Is there a motel nearby? I’m really sleepy.”
He pointed down a dark and dreary road.
No kids were Trick-or-Treating that Halloween night,
Nothing was open. I couldn’t buy nor sell.
I could barely see. There wasn’t a single light.
Then I saw the sign for the Bates Hotel
The clerk in drag, carrying a dripping blade,
Said they had a sudden opening;
But first he had to get the room remade.
“Why don’t you stroll outside, see what’s happening.”
Some spaced-out dwarves were shuffling ‘round the mortuary,
While a Tall Man looked down from up above.
Nearby a big dude in a goalie mask was swinging a machete,
Taunting a burned guy wearing a freaky glove.
Another dude was gardening, cutting something at night,
Sporting a leather mask and a gas chainsaw.
But a walking-talking Good Guy doll gave me the biggest fright--
He was probably the weirdest thing I saw.
I decided to head back; this town gave me the ‘willies’.
A big shape and a clown grabbed me outside the Bates Hotel!
“I’m Mike Myers, and my friend’s name’s Penny.
We’ve come to convey you back to Hell.”