Proudly I used to sell season's tickets for the Chicago Bears
~ These days salesmen sneak down the back stairs
The goal is to score a goal
Go for goal and earn three points
The world stage football festival seems cold
Thou art giant among Aficans
Set the pace and surmount Mount Rwandan
The rest will bow down
Pig Skin
(NFL)
September 17th, 1920
Canton Ohio City
January 15th, 1967
Very first Super Bowl
Green Bay Packers (won)
Kansas City Chiefs
It’s another football season in September
Rugged pig skin
Noisy crowds
Everyone is over paid
But it’s always entertaining
Beyond greed
Who’s your favorite team?
Everyone's always being traded
Don’t forget to buy some beer
Watch the game from home
No Crowd No Chaos
Start on the 50 yard line
Everyone is on their feet
Touch down
What about those Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders
Don’t forget snacks and hot dogs
Forward motion is caught by the ref,
obviously not following the maestro.
On the line of scrimmage ready to go,
too quick with that jump from their spot.
Barrels of ambition elbows will rub,
a return for a touchdown fill my quota!
Lighting up a Jumbotron with control,
like a boss threw a perfect spiral ball.
Sitting on my hands in the nosebleeds
entranced by every move they make.
All I want is a touchdown extravaganza,
so don’t get sloppy. No interceptions.
On the road or with an at home scenario?
Never doubt the power of the 12th man.
Angola Silence (Renku)
In a silent mood
Await the pure white horses
To draw the carriage
Someday comes my turn
Laid amidst the other graves
Angola will reign
Carry a brother
Dispense final dignity
In this place of pain
Theres a flood today in Crick.'
Uncontrolled migrants; on the uptick'
There is football till morning.'
When they normally were snoring
And drunks in their, park being sick.'
They cheer the name before the game,
the brother’s brother takes the field.
The rest play well, their skill the same,
but fate’s already been sealed.
The gifts are passed in quiet ways,
a handshake, promise, knowing smile.
The worthy wait through endless days,
their merit lost in someone’s file.
The ball still rolls, the crowd still roars,
yet justice sits outside the gate.
True talent knocks on unseen doors,
while favour walks in dressed as fate.
And still we watch, with bitter view -
football returns to days we knew.
Last year we played with steady ground,
one rule for all, the truth was found.
No favoured few, no shadow deal,
just work and heart - the common seal,
and every voice could claim their name.
Our coach back then, from distant shore,
taught more than drills - he taught us more:
that trust is built on equal weight,
and discipline decides our fate,
and love of game is why we came.
But now the lines are drawn by hand
that shifts with who they understand.
The gifted pushed to other side,
while empty chairs in A-team hide
the friends they brought to guard their claim.
The rules are bent, the field feels small,
the game we knew is lost to all.
Yet still we run, though not the same,
and dream one day to lift the flame
of football played for more than fame.
While I was at work my yards were busy
a nameless, white flower plucked
from my front garden
lay on the brick shelf by the gate
wrapped in cream silk
its stem inserted
into a (dry) plastic flower tube
A gift set down in forgetfulness
or just discarded
While out the back a soft touch indoor football
orange against the fake grass
lost and over wall booted
When playing basketball
being tall is best it's thought
but that's not all
wearing saggy baggy shorts on the court
needs keen hand-eye coordination
plus being fleet of foot
and have no quibble with dunk or dribble
if through the hoop a Wilson you wish to put.
As for American football
boring from the sideline I find
it's more talk less action
namby-pamby as opposed to rugby
which is wilder less calmer
and without all the body armour
now there's a game with some traction.
America's pastime baseball
is another matter
whether pitcher or batter
with Rawlings or Slugger
when on the mound I have found
unlike soccer or rugger
before a ball the hurler throws
and the pitch is hit or caught with a mitt
first rearrange the private parts in public
twitch the cap and then spit.
massed magpies
in a black and white city
united in joy
Indomitable
Indefatigable
Impenetrable
Immovable
Immense
Incomparable
Interior Lineman
~ Quoted, “Hi, Mom’
The roar of the crowd, a deafening sound,
As helmets collide on hallowed ground.
But whispers arise, a cynical plea,
"Is victory real, or just make-believe?"
Like headlines that spin, a truth half-concealed,
Or storylines scripted, emotions revealed,
The gridiron's drama, some claim it's a show,
A pre-ordained dance, where the winners all know.
The quarterback's pass, a perfectly flighted arc,
Or a fumble recovered, leaving its mark.
Are these moments genuine, raw and untamed,
Or puppets on strings, in a carefully planned game?
The news it may bend, to an agenda's sway,
And wrestlers perform, their roles they portray.
But the sweat and the tears, the grueling long grind,
For athletes who strive, a different truth you'll find.
Though doubts may persist, and shadows remain,
The passion they bring, can't be purely feigned.
For the love of the game, in hearts burning bright,
Ignites the true spirit, and fuels the good fight.
DNA
“You are not worthy of my love.”
Silent words scorch skin like an invisible flame.
DNA passed down and left to wither,
a family heirloom I don’t dare claim.
A cracked and shattered mirror,
a broken picture frame—
I see nothing of you in me,
and maybe that’s why you never say my name.
But when the scoreboard flashes victory,
your number lights up my screen,
as if a game could bridge the silence,
as if love was something you’d ever mean.
She has your eyes, your sharp-edged smile,
you call her first, like she’s proof you exist.
I wear my mother’s face instead,
a reflection you’d rather dismiss.
Tempted into wrong way,
Diverse team held sway,
Keen fan did sag,
Boys had lost the flag,
Old team won, glory beamed,
Traitor was back, it seemed!
Specific Types of Football Poems
Read wonderful football poetry on the following sub-topics:
acrostic, cinquain, concrete, free verse, funeral, funny, high school, kids, haiku, limerick, inspirational, life, love, mother, nfl, player, quarterback, rhyme, school, senior, simile, sonnet, spring, sports, super bowl, winter,
and more.
Definition | What is Football in Poetry?