People watch different sports to enjoy their time. Like basketball, Volleyball, Hockey, Badminton etc etc but I just like Soccer, whenever I am free If I did, I would put the Soccer on the TV and sit down. Even if I get a chance to go to the grand, I would not give up. The most precious time for me is to enjoy the Soccer game. We’ve put together some interesting Soccer Poems for Soccer fans that they will surely enjoy reading. Let’s get started
I’M A Soccer Lover
To play on the field
There’s no yield
my friends, my coaches, and me
Wide open space
To run free
Do some moves
‘Round the players
Here we go
Let your passion show
Shoot some goals
One by one
What’s that
You’re having fun! !
She shoots….
SHE SCORES! ! !
You just won your season
Your fans scream:
LET’S GO TEAM! !
kat misko
Soccer
I always have liked soccer.
Such a rough game.
Such skills required.
And popular.
Hometown watching,
on Sunday morning.
When one day,
I found that I needed
to withdraw.
It was the honourable
thing to do.
Herbert Nehrlich
Soccer
I have always liked soccer
such a rough game
Such skills are required
And popluar
You must be strong
and fearless
long kicks to bring you closer
to achieving your goal
of making goals to win the game
heading and saving the ball
is important too
its all about a game called soccer
BOBo ROBbY
The Beautiful Game (Soccer)
I love you more than my old soccer cleats,
The ones I’ll never give up.
I love you more than the perfect field,
The one I use to warm up.
I love you more than my soccer ball,
The one that’s perfect for amazing passes.
I love you more than me running along those different types of grasses.
I love you more than the cheering crowds,
The stands made out of plaster.
I love you more than that perfect kick,
That I have yet to master.
I love you more than my soccer cleats the ones that hold all reason.
I love you more than my coach, my soccer team and my season.
I love you more than winning that world cup,
That we have yet to reclaim.
I can’t believe I love you more than the beautiful game.
Gab Oso
Soccer, The Beautiful Game
The Beautiful Game, inflamer of passion,
Maker of legends and timeless skill;
The sport of the world, whether rich or poor.
From the packed dirt streets of Africa,
To the green grass pitches in England,
Is that matchless, extrordinary, game of games played.
It’s a game of running, yet not always all out.
It’s a game of passion, yet under harness and rein.
It’s a gae of team, of passing and sharing.
It’s a game supreme, this Beautiful Game.
Derek Jensen
Golllllllll
I have seen soccer players
Shoot goals through
Windows in five story buildings.
Off walls onto an escalator
And into a waste basket.
Off a thousand foot cliff
Into a trash barrel.
Off an airplane
Skydiving
Through a goal.
So I ask you
Why is it so hard
For Soccer players
To score on the field?
Is that the reason for the
Prolonged GOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL?
They MUST enjoy that special moment.
Heaven only knows
when it will come again.
Juan Olivarez
Kick Me…Again
KIck me again
And watch me deflate-
A once new soccer ball
Promised fair play,
But stomped on, defaced,
And crushed out of shape-
Just kick me again
And watch me deflate.
nia imani
Soccer Girl
She gets out there and hustles
She does her very best
It’s all about the teamwork
And winning is her quest
Pretty as a picture
She could be most anything
But for now she’s chosen soccer
And working hard for her team
Pony-tail is flying
The ball is flying too
She’s got those rules down good
And she knows just what to do
So come on folks and watch the game
If you want to see the best
A girl who could be a beauty queen
But soccer is her quest!
Marilyn Lott
——————-
We Are Family
We are family,
although we do not resemble
although i am black and you are white
although you are rich and i am poor
we are family,
even though i am democrat, and you are republican
even though your ancestors are from Iraq, and mine are from Africa
even though you teach the class i’m enrolled in
we are family,
although i’m a poet and you are a singer
although you are old and i am young
although i’m a gentleman and you a lady
we are family,
even though you praise Allah and I praise Jesus Christ
even though i love football and you play soccer
even though you are a Sagittarius and i’m a Cancer
we are family,
although i prefer rhythm and blues and you love blue grass
even though you have a car and i have a bus…to ride
although i have love and you are alone
even though you dress one way, and i dress the other
although my family loves me and yours does not know of you
we are family,
you and i are family,
me and you are family,
no matter what the difference is
family we are, forever
because we are here, and here is earth
and earth is our home
so here, we will live,
we are family.
Michael J. Burt
——————-
The Fear
They all ask me to jump
to invigorate and to play soccer,
to run, to swim and to fly.
Very well.
They all advise me rest,
they all send me to the doctor,
looking at me a certain way.
What happens?
They all advise me to travel,
to come and to leave, to stay,
to die and not to die.
It does not matter.
They all see the difficulties
of my surprised bowels
by awful X-rayed portraits.
I do not agree.
They all sting my poetry
with relentless forks
seeking, without doubt, a fly,
I Am afraid.
I am afraid of everyone,
of the cold water, of the death.
I am like all the mortals,
unavoidable.
And for that, in these short days
I am not going to pay attention to them,
I am going to open myself up and shut myself in
with my more perfidious enemy,
Pablo Neruda
——————-
Loyal Fan
You can take your golf and the rolling greens
You tennis with manicured courts neat and clean
Your soccer, your swimming, your basketball scene –
None measure up to…………FOOTBALL!
You can reel in that trout on the end of your line
Spit out your chew while you’re ridin’ the pine
Pick up that spare with a strike, not a nine
But none spell excitement like…………FOOTBALL!
The screaming, the cheering, the noise of the crowd
The crashing and bashing of helmets so loud
That winning touchdown that makes us all proud
Nothing’s as awesome as………….FOOTBALL!
And there’s not another thing I’d rather do
Than cheer for that team in the maize and the blue
My heart’s in the ‘BIG HOUSE’ – I wish I were, too
There’s nothing I love more than…………FOOTBALL!
Linda Ori
——————-
A Boy Juggling A Soccer Ball
After practice: right foot
to left foot, stepping forward and back,
to right foot and left foot,
and left foot up to his thigh, holding
it on his thigh as he twists
around in a circle, until it rolls
down the inside of his leg,
like a tickle of sweat, not catching
and tapping on the soft
side of his foot, and juggling
once, twice, three times,
hopping on one foot like a jump-roper
in the gym, now trapping
and holding the ball in midair,
balancing it on the instep
of his weak left foot, stepping forward
and forward and back, then
lifting it overhead until it hangs there;
and squaring off his body,
he keeps the ball aloft with a nudge
of his neck, heading it
from side to side, softer and softer,
like a dying refrain,
until the ball, slowing, balances
itself on his hairline,
the hot sun and sweat filling his eyes
as he jiggles this way
and that, then flicking it up gently,
hunching his shoulders
and tilting his head back, he traps it
in the hollow of his neck,
and bending at the waist, sees his shadow,
his dangling T-shirt, the bent
blades of brown grass in summer heat;
and relaxing, the ball slipping
down his back…and missing his foot.
He wheels around, he marches
over the ball, as if it were a rock
he stumbled into, and pressing
his left foot against it, he pushes it
against the inside of his right
until it pops into the air, is heeled
over his head- the rainbow! –
and settles on his extended thigh before
rolling over his knee and down
his shin, so he can juggle it again
from his left foot to his right foot
– and right foot to left foot to thigh-
as he wanders, on the last day
of summer, around the empty field.
Christopher Merrill
——————-
True Friendship
You are a great friend
A best friend
I’ll be there when the tears start to fall
And the rays of sunshine hits
We shall play a game of soccer in the rain
We will be friends to the end of time
I’ll be there when you break your knee
When you are to scared to cry
I will be there when time passes by
And I hope you’ll be there to
Jennifer Hanson
——————-
God Works In Circle
A ball lover
is our god
a soccer player
he is
the whole universe
his field
the planets,
the stars,
our earth
all shuttling
through space
like balls
shove from
one corner
to the other
our heads,
our eyes,
the balls
that the gods
give us
to play
all
the games
in his world
the moon
in its
lunar journey
round and round
good and bad
too come
in a circle
what goes around
comes around
kindness begets kindness
do bad and
it comes back
in a circle
cos our god
is a lover of
a ball game
start walking anywhere
in the universe
and you get back
to your own place
cos our god
loves the circle game
the circle game
the circle game
john tiong chunghoo
——————-
Tis Football
‘Tis football is the big World game of today
Grid Iron the big game of the U S of A,
Rugby League, Rugby Union and Aussie Rules Football
And soccer the biggest World game of them all
Gaelic Football a field game the Irish do play
Football in it’s many codes the big World game of today
Football supporters Worldwide their team and their club colours wear
And in International games in their National colours they even dye their hair
Some men love their football team as much as their parents, children or wives
Yes football is one of the great loves of their lives
When their team does win the club song they do sing
But a loss to their weekend great sadness does bring
All over the World many codes of football
And to each their own code the best game of all.
Francis Duggan
——————-
Soccer No Sale
In the U.S.A., soccer tiz
A game to be played more by kids.
Hard ball to sell as money biz
In the sports world of profit grids.
For U.S.A., the point is score.
We the People do like to win,
And do so entertained galore.
So supply is priced to cash in
On demand of fans who expect
Instant gratification by
Bang for the buck in sport select.
Soccer’s fun free, but not to buy.
Selling soccer in U.S.A?
Not enough drama play to pay.
——————-
The End (Of Soccer)
The adrenaline.
The excitement.
The energy.
It surrounded the field.
The whistle blew.
One team against another.
One world against another.
They raced for the ball.
Dribble, dribble, pass shoot.
The other team scored.
Two minutes into the game.
Cheers came from one side of the field.
“I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.” Cried a defender.
Her team reassured her it wasn’t, even thought they all knew it was.
“C’mon guys, it’s not over, we can win this.”
One girl whispered.
Everyone was back in position.
They were ready to strike back.
Except their centre midfielder.
She could feel her knee acting up again.
She reminded herself to not limp, or else,
she would have to get of the field, and helplessly watch the game.
She could see that smirk.
The smirk on the opposing team.
“How dumb.” She thought.
“They think they’re going to win.”
The whistle blew once more.
She received a pass.
Passed it back.
This was how it continued.
Running, passing, stealing the ball, taking a shot on net.
They made sure to not make it easy for the other team.
She ran but unknowingly, she limped.
She had the ball,
She raged up the field.
No one could catch her now.
Her knee throbbed, but she ran on.
“Kick her in the knee.”
She heard the other team hiss.
Right then she passed the ball to her centre striker.
Then, there was the pain.
A hard blow to her already aching knee.
Her knee buckled.
She collapsed onto the field.
She could think of nothing but the pain.
It was overwhelming.
But then there was the anger.
She wanted to stand.
She wanted to tackle the girl who had kicked her.
She wanted her revenge.
But it wasn’t possible.
She was done.
No more playing soccer.
No more living.
Gab Oso
——————-
Read More: Basketball Poems
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