Long Beckham Poems

Long Beckham Poems. Below are the most popular long Beckham by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Beckham poems by poem length and keyword.


Where Are You Now

"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?


Playing Soccer In the Church Yard

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.
Form: Rhyme

3 Lions Cheated

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
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Big Ego

He's got a big ego,
he keeps offending people,
he scoops the same scoop,
and round and round we loop,
until the bubble pops
and the world sees him flop,
reject the rude,
deflate your ego,
swearing kills the mood,
you able?

I'm getting too cocky,
I could outbox Ali,
wrestle with The Rock
reach the top and stop and mock,
ego full of stock
forget the tick tock
because I'm 24 7
until I get into heaven,
insomnia beckons
and amnesia threatens,
bend rhymes like Beckham,
dunk punks like Jordan,
the mental perfection
with its rhyme injection,
about to live the lesson 
of the ego outstretchin'
the limit it can flex,
the crux, the critical,
I rhyme the old skool
and wear hip hop shoes,
I hate the mumble flop
with the words unused,
it's just ear abuse,
on the loose,
with no use,
it's noise with no excuse.

I suspect that this project
will impact and inflict,
sick tricks, and then retract
and evaporate back
to the gods intact,
before it's redirected
to another level head,
who wrecks and blows it,
crash the car, 
went too far,
you go from feeling cool,
to a sample of your stool,
that big head 
now gone and the face left red,
baking big mistakes,
taking punches from a heavyweight,
David doesn't always beat Goliath,
cometh the hour,
cometh the coffin,
you can't stimulate with coffee
because the heart stopped beating,
the soul is set free
and this world you're leaving,
beaten down with ease,
lying dead and bleeding,
how's that big ego?
You still offending people?

One hand holds but the other can't reach,
near rhymes aren't real rhymes
and sand doesn't mean a beach,
but if you find the flow,
find a way to wined the cable,
then transmit clear and stable,
and accurate like a machete
you'll rhyme like a line of spaghetti,
but with deadwood on your lead 
and at ease in your bed head,
because it feels so easy with an ego, 
then know it wont make a good show,
so put your feet on the ground
be aware of how the words sound,
leave behind the prima donna 
or become another gonna,
stop the passive aggression,
or accept a massive regression,
fill your minds storage with knowledge
beyond the college,
there's always more to learn
and more wood to burn,
big heads remove themselves
when they burn their own shelves.
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

The Untold Story of Africa Part Two

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.


fame and football

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
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

Skipping Record

I keep coming back
to the root of my problems
like a broken record
skipping on the same track
and I can't move forward until I fix the scratch
Soooo
like a mime in an imaginary glass box
I peer out on the world
wishing that I discovered the key to finding my way out

I see the promise of what I could be in the future
Long beautiful hair falling over my ivory ceramic dollface
with an elegant runners body, and my curves that would make Da Vinci deliriously envious
for they are grander then his Leda and the Swan piece .
I see my shoulders as relaxed as a golden retriever mid running dream

I think that I could fall deeply in love
faster than Humpty Dumpty who tumbled from the wall
Nor would I crack and become a mess like I had before
I will be a human marble

I have been trying to be Atlas with the world on my shoulders.
Taking the burder of everyones problems
Like when we were little kids and we would throw in leafs and sticks in a pot, and call it a 
potion
But people's life problems potions can often be poisonous
Atlas should have taken the world and kicked it like a soccer ball
so far across the universe that Beckham would be proud of it

Therefore the key to rehabilitating yourself in your man made mime mind prison
is this.....
Learn to focus your mind on the positives
Let go of the littlest anxieties
For in a world of Aids, Cancers, and starving kids
you have to put it all in retrospective
Find your place, and your gifts
laugh with your friends
Make passionate love to your lovers
This makes the days go by and brings you one step to a healthier closure
Keep on fighting to be the wonderful and brilliant person you know you can be.
© Laura Hew  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Just a Dream

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

Premium Member Oblong Faces

She asked her daughter to explain fully
How she became the target of a female bully

“The bully said I have an odd, long face
The kids cried, ‘Disgrace, disgrace, disgrace!’”

“Oh Mom, please, is it true?
Is my face odd and long, I’m asking you?”

Oh sweetie, I’m sure you heard it wrong,
No doubt what she said was O-B, oblong

“Oblong? Oblong? That sounds worse!
What is an Ob? It sounds like a curse!l”

No, no, my precious there is no disgrace
Many famous women have an oblong face

“Famous women? I hope it’s true
But can an oblong face be pretty too?”

Of course they can be both famous and pretty
Some even viewed as most attractive and witty

“Who are they, Mom, please tell me who?
What are their names? Who? Who? Who?”

Kim Kardashian, Carrie Underwood, Liv Tyler
Victoria Beckham, Maggie Q, Sara Jessica Parker

Meryl Streep, Angelina Jolie, Lisa Kudrow
Courtney Cox, Mika Jovovich, Gwyneth Paltrow

“Mom, I don’t know who those people are …”
That’s ok dear, each one is a star!

Having an oblong face is a reason for pride
A good thing not bad—no reason to hide

“Thank you, mom, I feel so much better
When that bully shows up I’ll just laugh and forget her!”

Mom’s huge hugs are always the best
Helping us see how much we are blessed
© Mark Toney  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet

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