Long Goalkeeper Poems
Long Goalkeeper Poems. Below are the most popular long Goalkeeper by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Goalkeeper poems by poem length and keyword.
Football fever
World Cup Brazil;
Too many overnights breached
Imagine a world
Glued to football mania;
Morning red eyes syndrome
Now you've seen it all
Germany's got the gold;
Back to normal routines
Even my wife's up
Watching the final match;
TV and sleepy eyes
If only something
More tangible...
Can heal the world
Competitive sports
Winning smiles collect;
Losing tears regret
Bedtime at dawn
Wake up mid-afternoon;
Schedule gains off-side
Peace for now
Until the next World Cup;
Life minus football fever!
Just for a sporting change
For a short while,
Unruly world celebrates
In-between hostilities
Dazzling football magic;
Memorable milestones
In my dreams
Football in the net;
Goalkeeper dazed
Leon Enriquez
14 July 2014
Singapore
Why I need a man when I am too much in a lady-like skin ?
There are hundreds of reasons, there must be.
The first reason is perhaps loneliness.
Over-pouring. Overflowing.
Fictitious characters of books bid farewell, at last.
When stove sends signal. Real stern. Overdone.
And I whittle down my whistle-blower signals to only one
Why I need a man when I am too much in a lady like skin.
In a courtesy match between me and the rest of the world.
Long story short, it is a long-lost goalpost,
as the goalkeeper went to fix the jersey
On the wrong clock with a wrong show in mind.
But it is good at least to wake up for another day!
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
Goalkeeper
When there is a football match on TV, I switch it on
In the last ten minutes of the match, my boredom threshold
Is low and to sit there watching the game for ninety minutes, really!
I used to play football as a boy, a goalkeeper of all things, then
I grew up and chased girls instead, which was often painful
Like accidentally falling in love, that happened frequently.
Falling in love is painful, walking into walls, and being nice
To children related to the object of my adoration
Then the pain of being rejected led to long walks and dark thoughts
Under a night sky, bittersweet flagellation, why did she leave me?
This too ended now, I`m a goalkeeper again, defend the goal, and try
To save the ball kicking my way
The soldier ants played the elephants
In a soccer match in the jungle.
Whoever arranged the fixture list,
Had clearly made a bungle
It was a bit one-sided,
Which will come as no surprise.
The elephants had an advantage,
Due to superior size.
They won nearly all the high balls,
Which obviously took its toll.
And, even if the ants had a shot,
The goalkeeper filled the goal.
At half-time it was twenty-nil,
But the brave ants hadn’t lost heart.
It’s not the winning that matters,
It’s all about taking part.
At the start of the second half,
They brought a substitute on.
Their latest foreign signing,
A centipede named Juan
He made an immediate impact,
Showing incredible pluck.
And forty-five seconds into the half,
He’d broken the soldier ant’s duck
He continued to weave his magic,
Scoring goals for fun,
And, with ninety minutes on the clock,
He scored the winning one.
The captains shook hands at the end.
The elephant said, “Well done”
And said that he was most impressed
By the substitute called Juan
But what he couldn’t understand, he said,
“He’s so vital to your winning,
Why don’t you include him
Right from the beginning?
The ant said, “We would like to,
Because he’s one of our aces.
But it takes him forty-five minutes
To do up all his laces.”
Soccer
In my childhood, we played football like other sports
But we didn't think much about it
But suddenly, as it appeared to me, the sport became
a craze with fanatical fans arguing about which
The team had the best goalkeeper or striker
The heart of soccer came from England; we knew
the names of the famous teams and the interviews
in a sports magazine about their life
That was about the time when I would rather read
a book, but to see frenzied fans going mad when their
team lost
I'm not against football, but it is essentially a sport
that has its beginning in the working class, and still
has its aura
It is a place where people with scant education can
become rich and feted for scoring goals
for the soccer stars, now an instrument for big
business, the prize is high, but many spend their
money buying an expensive car that shows the status
being recognized and written about
Although my interest in the sport- can we call it sport
I do take an interest when a tall Norwegian scores
goals and is regarded as famous.
Blue memoirs fall from her sky eyes
As blue memoire fall from her eyes
right down where I slept, I picked it up.
My memories, they tingle me,
like flashes of a cinema screenplay, I see;
A field, goalkeeper in orange, a striker
dress in red jerseys, and
a blue soccer ball shot up into thin air
by the striker after raising and bouncing
It incessantly on the green field, tosses it.
though it didn't seem broken outward,
yet wailing inside in silence as it falls
at least for goalkeeper to pick it up
am that goalkeeper, I did caught all
droplet with my eyes--you go on ahead and
guess who the striker be, no not Maradona
or Pele Cos my momma is the blue ball.
I see a red rose, I see my momma
having many thorns on her petals,
Some few bruised weakling spots,
Yet she blossoms singing "silent nights".
I picture her embattled face, a
brownie nightingale, with a bleeding beak
Singing lullaby in broken tones, and though
non can write down her lyrics yet tending
to her nestling---with iced dank brown
camera eyes, painted in the horrors of an
African nativity, in the claws a taboo.
if a woman crosses another man the
gods are left to strike off her doom. But
the man, a moonlit journey walker on other
blank sheets, striding other lawns as he chooses,
but the gods ain't strike no mane So his taboo is but
an illegal legal practice on nativity.
Below a Link 2 watch it on my YouTube channel
https://youtu.be/EVnF_Zusyf4
I played as a Goalkeeper
trained to make the save
push the ball away
instinctively go again,
knocked down get up,
get hit get in the way,
down up down up
take a battering
not pass kick or head,
get hit take it
all that matters
recycle retain
never show pain
or stay led
no fear thought
hesitation no floor
animal
smacked pain,
engrained
smacked again,
if you can function
be punctual
ball face punch force,
don't roll or feel
don't lay or look
off all fours
chest or balls
foot use all
rise fall cycle
adrenaline no trembling
give everything,
no end in sight
fight and you fight
clear mind mad kind
no excuses just reasons,
lessons to heed,
opponents to read,
hurt what's hurt
who's Burt
give everything to the shirt
visit dirt submerge
back up unhurt
the moment
occurring
war keep serving
nerveless what's nervous
rush buzz
keep going because,
because why? cus you can.
I'm Nick Trim
Goalkeeper
never a victim
no need,
do the opposite instinctively
no sympathy
no wimp in me,
challenge,
won't win quickly,
can't get rid easily,
sorry that I battle back,
it aint over after one whack,
long of short
I never stop,
give up or think to quit,
a man,
not a bit itch