Long Football Poems

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


Premium Member Of Days Gone By

Sometimes I laugh
Sometimes I cry
Sometimes I dream
Of Days gone by

Life was hard, each day we learned
We never wanted what we hadn’t earned
A handshake at the bank was the only must
Lives were built on faith and trust

Friday night dances at the school’s old gym
Pledge of Allegiance and a morning hymn
In the Spring, caterpillars all over the trees
Stop at the candy store for jujubes

Pinball machines and wiffle balls
Growing to serve, duty calls
Decorating the car for the football game
Jumping in leaves when Autumn came

Watch a parade on Decoration Day
Visit the grave, a prayer we’d say
Meet at the diner after class
On Christmas Eve, go to Midnight Mass

Play in the street until well after dark
Climbing trees at the local park
Baking potatoes on an open fire
Riding  a bike after patching  a tire

Delivering newspapers in all kinds of weather
Put a nail in a bat to hold it together
Counting stars while lying in the grass
Standing under a pavilion until the rain would pass

Sometimes I laugh
Sometimes I cry
Sometimes I dream 
Of days gone by.
Form: Rhyme


Why Won'T You Throw Me the Ball-- An Ode To the Boys In My Classroom

Every day at recess I play catch with the boys
No matter what they can’t throw where they’re told
Just one good pass
To bend over that many times, I’m getting too old

I throw them a pass
And it slaps off their hands
When they do finally catch one
They celebrate like a Packer leaping into the stands

Tayden Picks it up 
He throws with all his might
The ball leaves his hand
And sails 20 feet to my right

I stroll over 
And pick up the errant pass
Why can’t they throw me the ball
Maybe we should go over this in class

McNutt drops the next pass
The sun was in my eyes is what he’ll say
I don’t know how that’s possible
On such a cloudy day

With a wind up McNutt gets ready to throw
This won’t be pretty it won’t be neat
With a scream and all his strength he chucks the pass
It bounces 10 yards in front of me and rolls to my feet.

My aching back
It can’t take much more
I’m only 39 
Why am I this sore

Now it’s Davon who is in my sites
If he would only catch it I could lose these ball drop blues
He looks good as he runs for the pass
But now he’s on the ground, tripped over his own shoes

With a smile and a chuckle 
He picks up the ball
I think he knows it’s a football and not a grenade
It sails way over my head and bounces off the wall

I throw the ball to Brian 
He reaches for it wearing his single glove 
I can’t believe it, he caught it 
Thank the heavens above

This is it, I think he will throw me a direct hit
Oh, man tricked again, he stopped to tell a story and talk
How disappointing
I suppose I could just take a walk

Why do I do it
Why do I play
Tomorrow I jump rope
I’ll keep trying they may throw it to me someday
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Keeping Her Head

Great Scot delusions of grandeur!
The merry queen with her rosary,
her entourage, ooh la la funereal
shroud and veil; her head bound high.

There’s that sparkle in her eyes,
witticisms, critiques; she’s not meek.
The English parade won’t wrangle her.
She’s Mary Queen of freaking Scots.

Would they? Could they? -silence her lips.
She’s moistened the utmost in utterance.
Tongue laced in French, Latin and bitter English -
that pretty queen squeezed her hands for them.

Her lips in prayer, witnesses wrote,
as her head rolled like a football after
three chops. They found her hair gray-
a wig she wore; fair Mary of Scots.

8/27/2021

Like a Football In Woman's Game

Just like football 
I am going to be chased in life's game
by a bunch of ladies
as if playing a football match.

I am going to be chased in life's game
they will rush just to touch me
as if playing a football match
receiving me gently in the chest.

They will rush just to touch me
the goalkeeper among them
receiving me gently in the chest
will give me sure kisses.

The goalkeeper among them 
I am going to love her
will sure give me kisses
soft like a feather's touch.

I am going to love her
though I may get occasional kick
soft like a feather's touch
that is part of the game.

Though I may get occasional kick
I must forget the pain
that is part of the game
with so many cute ladies around.

I must forget the pain 
I will be so sought after
with so many cute ladies around
everyone wanting to hug me.

I will be so sought after
by a bunch of ladies
everybody wanting to hug me
just like a football.



© kashinath karmakar (27th June 2011)
=============00=============

Placement:HM (August 2011)

Contest:Play Ball

Sponsor:Debbie Guzzi
© Kash Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Pantoum

Premium Member OLDE SJI BRAS BASAH ROAD, 1971


Journey Journal Page
OLDE SJI BRAS BASAH ROAD, 1971
By Leon Enriquez


Morning Glory
Florals on a fence
Violet blooms beauty
Plain in sparkling sense


Olde school field
By Bras Basah Road
Boys and football yield
To dawn’s purple load

~~~~~~~~~


Dawn now brings
Such sparkling creepers
Olde tints of fond flings
Such transient flowers


We recall
Days of yesterday
Sounds of lost footfalls
Echoes of school days

~~~~~~~~~


For a while
Till that harsh sun burns
Faded dying smiles
To the earth return


Brief your tale
On the dusty road
Yet your truth avails
Of brief surreal loads

~~~~~~~~~


Now here we
Go on our way there
To visit and see
To be yet nowhere


Old men think
Upon times now gone
Laughter on verge brink
Olde days and lost dawns

~~~~~~~~~


Lost school daze
Dribbling on that field
Our cheeky fond craze
Olde time humour yields


For a while
You and I and all
Taste feel and try smiles
To pile sweet and gall

~~~~~~~~~


Olde school grounds
Memory lane thoughts
New cityscape bounds
Olde souls recall lots


Lost yet found
Olde echoes call out
Floral fence abound
Hear sunny glee pout

~~~~~~~~~


Here by grace
Each to each olde souls
Journey quest we trace
Incomplete yet whole


By the way
A restless wit primes
Just another day
Grateful for our time

~~~~~~~~~


Those days tint
Our old boys’ refrain
Violet floral hints
On the rail fence strain


Morning Glory
Let’s not live in vain
But seed love’s fancy
As light sparkles plain

~~~~~~~~~

Leon Enriquez
05 January 2024
Singapore
Form: Quatrain


Weekend With Drew

Spending an entire weekend
             with one of your best friends
                        is a treat onto itself,
           but spending an extended weekend
               with the same friend
                     is even better...
    ******************************************************
               Drew had come over, with his parents,
             to get a haircut and enjoy some conversation.
            Before they had a chance to leave,
                 he was talked into staying the night.
             We spent it lounged on basement couches
            enjoying our viewing of Spartacus.
     ******************************************************
             The next morning, 
          we reenacted historical skirmishes,
           with a bit of artistic license,
           until it was time to accompany my mom 
           to a friend's cookout.
           We enjoyed the usual fare of burgers & hotdogs
          as we quizzed one another on random movie trivia.
            Although we weren't all too athletic,
          Drew and I played a few games of pickup football
       with a group of kids we'd never met before,
             before retiring to my place for the night.
      *****************************************************
            Sunday was set aside for camping,
           the original reason Drew and I were
            supposed to hang out.
           My parents took us to one of my favorite spots,
          Kennerdell,
             where we delighted in swimming in the creek,
        hiking the trails, 
            and watching Return of the King.
       *****************************************************
             A copy of Wedding Crashers 
            kept us entertained on the drive back home.
             After dropping Drew off at his house;
           back to his temporarily estranged family,
            it was time for me to finish,
              and begin,
             work on my D.A.R.E. project.
           I finished pretty quickly
            & spent the evening thinking about
         how wonderful of a Memorial Day Weekend
           it had been
            in the company of one of my best friends.
Form: Bio

Winner Takes All

Winner takes all

 He sat on the sofa feeling disgruntled, watching TV
about a young woman who read a poem about hill climbing.
I have climbed many hills, he said to himself, 
but there was always a steeper hill to conquer.
Take sport, he said, women win everything you care to mention
 even football and ice-hockey the last bastion for men has been invaded 
to the newspapers delight, of course, the editors are women, 
as are the contributors; it isn’t fair.
His wife enters. She has been on the treadmill for an hour, 
asks him if he has done the dishes? No! He says folding his arms in protest.
Do them now the cleaning lady is coming, she may think badly about us.
Triumph, at last, he thinks, typical female worries about silly things.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Babysitter

I didn’t need a babysitter;
She wasn’t there for me.
She was paid to watch my little brother,
He was only three.

She was all of sixteen;
Two more years she had on me.
I didn’t know much about young girls,
But I knew she was pretty.

My brother was taking a nap;
She said she had a date later that night;
She wanted to practice kissing a boy,
And my height was just about right.

I’d never felt skin so soft,
Or tasted lips so wet;
I can’t explain what happened to me
The moment our tongues met.

The lesson didn’t end just there;
I won’t say how far it went;
But I’ll never forget that afternoon
And how the time was spent.

I saw her a few years later;
At a High School football game;
I wasn’t sure if she remembered me,
Then she shouted out my name.

She gave me a kiss and a hug,
To the surprise of my friends,
And whispered in my ear;
“I’d love to babysit again.”

I watched her walk away,
Into the darkness of the night;
Never to see her ever again;
Glad we practiced it just right.
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Happy Day of the Year

Be the beauty that dwell to spread, 
For all to share colorful moments. 
Be the cheers that spring to yield, 
Good laughter to birth inner peace. 

Let crudeness not teach beauty's value, 
Like darkness preaches light's worth. 
Let melancholy not bury cheers' birth, 
Like sunlight helps seeds germinate anew. 

May all you crave for not be like shadow, 
Unto your table as the daily bread. 
May the blessings that will be bestow
On you, be the ones you really need. 

This day of the year; many happy return, 
Shall accompany you in His presence. 
Through days and nights commitments, 
Which shall make you enjoy great upturn. 

Congratulations on this day, dear brother
Your wish is not meant to make you bother
Best wishes on this day. Oh grace! 
Define redress power to foster pace

You're the best with kindest regards. 
Make the best out logistically 
And like Bayern, play your cards, 
Projecting unique docket optimistically.  

Up Chelsea with trophy parade in town
Lolz! Down Arsenal with a useless crown
Timileyin, that's for every diehard blue fan
Who ends up with excuse of the ban. 

Winks!
Form: Rhyme

The Old Guys

Written By:  D. Collins 5/9/24



A triple-knee crack and a hip not ready to move.
Are signs an OG (old guy) should hand over his tools.
Don't push it to the limit trying to throw a football.
And, definitely refrain from shooting basketballs.


Watch your ass in the snow when walking the dog.
A wind-blown leaf could land you in E.R.
Don't get me wrong I really like being here.
It shows the durability of my wear and tear.



We may crack and pop every now and again.
It comes with the props of older echelon.
Somehow throughout it all, we are still upright.
Trying to pass on to Young'uns the last stage of life.

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