Eurovision Poems - Poems about Eurovision

iconic song fest fueling nations’ hopes of vic’try understanding grows as diverse cultures greet, meet and mingle excitement flows free with each uplifting beat inspiration soaring as contestants compete!...

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I saw a stupid movie just four years ago. Will Ferrell starred in it, and he’s a funny guy.. The plot was so insipid I barely liked the show. In Iceland it takes place, where Lars and Sigrit vie with Eurovision singers in a contest with their song. The movie played on Netflix during Covid times. I listened and endured their...

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 "Love Shone a Light"      upon this "Puppet on a String" with a  "Boom Bang-a-Bang" it helped  "Making Your Mind Up" to "Save Your Kisses for Me...

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In the lovely Dublin theater where dreams are fulfilled excited spectators hushed In the silence of the night with avid expectancy, Bucks Fizz entered the stage his music is a hidden gem  waiting to be performed In a lovely breeze a mellow silk thread was spun akin to the moon's silky glow I have hopeful dreams. In the song 'Making Your Mind Up,'  they sang with clear voices the...

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From fjords, forests, hot springs, slopes and snowy mountains, people from different 'walks of life,' connect their cultures to entertain. A vision of Europe and humanity, where a continent is home to many dialects, serenading in diverse artistic styles. Blending voices that carry something distinct, bellowed from a ballad, rock or something completely comedic. I can hear the echoes of Celine Dion's 'Ne partez pas sans...

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2024 was the first time in over two decades. First time that I didn’t watch any of Eurovision. The pop and the rock, the costumes and things. Watching people dress differently and sings. With my conscious, I couldn’t watch it. Including a country like the state of Israel. The Israeli government are not fit to stand. Removing Israel should have been first...

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When Abba wowed the audience: the only part I've ever seen! Oh, and the bearded lady who (I think) was a drag queen. ...

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n Dublin’s grand theatre, where dreams alight, A hush fell over the expectant crowd that night. Bucks Fizz stepped forth, hearts aflutter, Their song, a secret spell, ready to utter. The melody wove through the air like silk, A tapestry of hope spun from the moon’s milk. “Making Your Mind Up,” they sang, voices pure, And the audience leaned in, eager to...

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It was nineteen seventy six When a great band sang about saving a kiss Such a jolly song That anyone could sing along I learned the words off by heart And entered a singing contest While on holiday Save all your kisses for me Save all your kisses for me Always a great memory I'll never forget the...

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If only the French could speak German, and Germans could greet the English, If only the English could speak Spanish, and the Spanish admire Italian Margherita! only if Russians could try be like Swedes, neutral in war and peaceful with all, only if the beautiful ladies of Finland, could teach presidential men how to rule, only when this mixture of jelly of nations, can...

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EUROVISION SONG CONTEST Every year, it is getting ever more weird Unlikely now that actual songs are judged Risky costumes and acts are getting stranger Overtly gender-neutral in displays of pride Voting is always political, and predictable It all started off being just about the music Songs themselves now seem not to matter I admit these days I do avoid that TV show Ostentatious...

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Nil Poi! Nil poi, shove it under there. Nil Poi, coz we don’t really care. Nil poi, we are quite elated. Nil poi, we are vaccinated. Nil poi, it’s fixed, and it’s done. Nil poi, but we’re still number one. Nil poi, you all used our tongue. Nil poi, with bad diction, bad song. Nil poi, again Europe’s in tatters. Nil poi, we win when...

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>That Eurovision song contest. Me telly was on the blink. Into an early sleep. I drugged did sink. Medical ones I mean. Not what all of you, just did think. But looking at the points. GB did not get. I think our song. Did once more sink I have worked out the reason why. All those different people in our land. Voted for that...

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> My parents gave me advice. Of the dead only speak nice. Now if I heard right someone is being critical of Sir Terry Wogan, and that is not right. So as The Mad Author I have been called to write in his defence, and this is what the writing bug helped me write....

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