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Pig Bladders
We played on all weather turf which was mud and a few sods of grass
Dribbled like Pele and Eusebio in old boot for that one killer pass
From straight after school until there was not one single more ray of light
So winter was best with rain hail and frost to young street kid’s delight
Wore grazes and bruises with passionate bounce and knew no bounds
The football was made from real leather with proper stitch and suture
We made goal posts from clothes simply played with no fear for the future
Top bar was imagined so sometimes we argued but had no video assistance
I was small as a goalie but learnt resilience losing single minded persistence
Surely we were cheeky and mischievous but did not cheat in defeat
Imagination grew large from a parallel Universe staked out on the ground
We won penalty shoot outs and World Cups and glorious trophies abound
First prize were liquorice and chocolate which we shared like good folk
On prosperous days my Mom had awarded a couple of bottles of coke
Thirst for knowledge came later but with solid foundations we found solid ground
Nostalgia makes me believe the World was better without fancy equipment
We had balls courage insurmountable energy and unequivocal commitment
Today some youngster play on garbage dumps heaped high with plastic bags
Knotted into round globes in colonized countries and live in squalid shacks
The planet seems flat covered in inequality skewed and properly screwed
Nowadays FIFA has more member countries than the mask of the United Nations
But the haves of global technology reap money not vision on play stations
Dressed in designer sports fabric oozing wealth greed and ravenous avarice
Score high scores at the point of destruction which is deceptively glamourous
For the upcoming G20 I suggest that leaders be given red cards and be barred
The avid reader will note that this poem ends with no formal structure or rhyme
Human conscience and conscious abdication of duty sits unwell with alliteration
Rhythm would allude to the distortion that everything might be in perfect order
If fewer politicians studied at Eton or Harvard not so many would end in trenches
Of legalized wars or crimes against humanity and I would be captain of the team
Football and power games were played with blemishes but compassionate hearts
The story ends without bare cleats as opium for the masses as pig bladders rule
Whereas corrupt pigs simply can’t fly unless we send them to Guantanamo Bay
08th June 2019
Copyright ©
Kai Michael Neumann
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