Poems about England


№ 1194888


I am Aleksandr Orlov
And I come from
Meerkovo town,
And every time I
Watch the TV football -
I always wear a frown.

I like to relax in my
Mansion - and watch
The England team play,
But when it comes to
Full time - I always feel

Unlike Meerkovo in the
Russia - where Sergei
Plays so well,
England could take more
Notice - and fall under
Sergei's spell!

I would like England to
Do well in Russia - but I
Am so very realistic,
I'm afraid the England
Players are NOT so

But England could hire
Oleg and Sergei to offer
Them much support,
Or failing many
Opportunity's - England
Should escort!

We watch many times
On meerkat TV - the
England team play their
But they always play so
Boringly, and no one
Takes the blames!

So me and Sergei and
Oleg will watch England
From meerkovo -
And as I steal Sergei's
Popcorn - the England
Team feel much sorrow!

But me and Sergei have
Much anticipation - as
Sergei plays with his
Furry pimple.
Will England win in Russia
2018 - and make it all
Look so... SIMPLE!!!


england,  russia,  simple,  watching.

Author: Darryl Ashton
Date: 24/03/2020

№ 1171582

England is Burning: Bonfire Night

Barefooted teenager
Sliding D& G; watches
Into a bag filled with
Addidas shoes.

It's bonfire night in the cities
Of England. Come out, children,
To the heart of the city and
Bleed it dry.

Betray your hunger,
The greed that consumes you
And the indifference bred into
Your marrow.

Bred by despair and shiny
Baubles in window displays
And worn by all those
Stars in those glossy mags.

It's a consumer's world; it's about
Instant gratification, not hard work -
Even if work could be found.
But why work if you can steal?

Bonfire night. Like when we burn that
Guy. Fawkes? He tried to destroy Parliament
But teenage angst and thugs could do in a few nights
What his barrels of gunpowder couldn't.

Alcohol and fags to last a
Short lifetime. Shopkeepers in the way
Should know better; You can't fight
Irrationality. It has no conscience.

Murder, loot, burn like in those
Movies about war, Grand Theft Auto,
And a million other games. Just keep
Moving so you never have to actually think.

But just in case, let's blame someone else:
Let's blame race, the Met, politicians,
The schools, the economy, parents -

Burn, London. Burn, Birmingham,
Burn, Manchester, Burn Liverpool.
Burn, Gloucester. Burn, burn, burn,
But let tomorrow be just another day.

Bonfire night. Every night.
Till they put out the fires,
Tend the wounded and
Bury the dead.

bonfire,  burning,  england,  night.

Author: Cinnam Muscat
Date: 03/03/2020

№ 1168676


The big bosses of the England FA,
Have made their final decision,
They've found a new boss for
The England team position.
They sat round a boardroom,
Table scratching all their heads,
Wondering who to appoint -
When they'd rather be at home
In their comfy beds!

Behold! Sam Allardyce, is now
In the hot seat,
And one thing is for sure - he
Won't accept defeat.
He worked well at Sunderland,
They're in the Premier League.
But why has his appointment
Caused so much intrigue?

Has BIG Sam got a magic
Wand - that will bring in some
Classy players?
Or will every game they do
Play - all end in watery
Big Sam has a massive task,
That only he can repair.
Will he make big changes -
As he quietly says a prayer!

He really has a task ahead,
To regain the nations trust.
Winning more of their
Matches really is a must.
Like being the best in Europe,
And even the best in the
Can he bring the glory
Years back - and end us all
In a whirl!

We can't seem to get this
Right, and England do need
Some success.
Will big Sam Allardyce be
A success, of that I can only
But we must look on the bright
Side, and be more positive.
And hope and pray Sam is
The man - victory he will

Let's now look to the future,
For the new England manager.
Big Sam Allardyce; 'but will he
Need a prayer? '
I now raise my glass and drink
A toast to Sam Allardyce:
'Good luck with the team' England,
Sam, and to "WIN" a 'game' would
Be NICE!!!

Can the England team now move
Forward and conquer the football
And win the coveted WORLD CUP -
Now that really would be a treat.
Hail! Hail! The new manager of
The England football team, and
What a lovely surprise.
Ladies and gentleman - please
Give a big welcome to the one and
Only; 'Sam Allardyce! '


england,  football,  manager,  sam,  team.

Author: Darryl Ashton
Date: 29/02/2020

№ 1162528

As England Burns

Glass is everywhere.
The empty road; between shrubs
And upturned wheelie bins.
It's in your hair, like dust
That sparkles slightly amidst the auburn highlights
And the blood from a gash above your
Left ear.

You can't hear so well,
All is ringing, squealing, high
And resonant above the sirens
And screams, the shop-keepers
Cursing the Gods, the
Church bells from another world
Calling out for dawn.

Oh! Take us away.
From these rivers of black,
These haggard drapes of
Bright lights and broken
Panes. This carpet
Made from discarded electrical goods,
Shoe boxes, wine bottles, and

Who are they to do this?
To lay claim to all we have,
To lay waste to that
Which came before?
No fury from foreign lands, nor
Raging strife by nature's hands,
Has ever done what has been done.

The rain doesn't come;
Our summer is finally here,
And the skies are clear.
No clouds in sight, save for
Rolling colossi of acrid smoke. Flames
Pointing accusing fingers at an uncaring sky,
As England burns.

burns,  england.

Author: Nash Sibanda
Date: 23/02/2020

№ 1159387

Dark Rose of England

Oh Dark Rose of England, your not the pale colour you usually find in the English countryside.

Oh Dark Rose of England, your beauty is more than just your colour, you display such beauty and elegance, your the envy of all other flowers

Your petals are dark red the colour of blood, I wonder what it is you feed upon.

Are you fed from below by the blood found deep beneath the ground.

Are your roots buried deep within, a graveyard previously used for sin, murder by the first degree or people slaughtered ritually.

Your stalks ramble and roam over the land, covering it in a prickly hand.

Ready to prick someone in a flash, should anyway get too close, defending yourself, making a stand.

You invade spaces, wrapping your shoots around objects in the way, then carry on rambling, nothing gets in your way.

The only way to stop you in your track, is to take a pair of shears and begin to hack.

Hacking away at your limbs, bringing you to your knees, pruning away the dead wood and leaves.

It will not rid you permanently, one thing is for certain, you'll be back again next year we'll never bring down the curtain.

dark,  england,  rose.

Author: Jackie Mead
Date: 21/02/2020

№ 1158679

England on the next turn

Following the streets of night
I stumble upon the lost generation
Of beat poets and soulless wanderers
Asking queries of the wonders of life.
Inside the living edge
Losing a subtle beauty
She stands alone
With an iron lung strapped around her chest
With no sympathy for the dead
With a lovers arm instead
And a holy bible burning
In the fire.

She takes me along the naked streets
Of bony men and women,
Starved of cash and hopeless eyes
Follow me into the deeper black.
She touches me with whorish delight
And cracks my lips with her mouth
And slips her tongue along mine
As ashy tears roll down her cheek
Into a stainless liquid air
Lies are dead there.

She is gone
My heroin of nightly gore
She might have been nothing to you
A shadow perhaps
An unknown victim of the war of life
But she smiles
More than she cries.
And in the end
That's enough.

england,  turn.

Author: Ian MacMenamin
Date: 20/02/2020

№ 1146198

Autumn Harvest in New England

Picture this if you can...

The late afternoon sun
With its soft golden hues
Cutting through the almost bare trees
Bringing gusts of chilly wind with it
Sending the last of
The vibrantly painted leaves
Tumbling to the cool ground


A blanket of scarlet, rust and yellow
A natural mosaic masterpiece


Tiny songbirds braving the cold
With their melodic tunes
As a gentle reminder
That old man winter is on his way

A piping hot Corning Ware mug
Filled to the brim with something
Absolutely sinful and yummy
To keep my hands and heart warm
Against the prewinter chill

The last of the golden rays
With its flickering lights
Melting like molten lava
Into the gentle arms
Of the awaiting horizon

Pulling sweater to chin
Against the oncoming wind
Natures chilly kiss
Upon warm cinnamon lips

I bask in the moment
As it reaches
Down into my soul
Where my inner child safely resides

Flashback memories
Of crisp clean air
And massive piles of raked leaves
Begging for some playtime
Jumping in and tossing them into the wind
Then watching them float back down to earth

Oh how I long to hear the rustle of dead leaves
Under my well worn boots one more time

When I close my eyes, I can still hear the sound
And it comforts me to a degree

Pumpkin spice aroma
Escaping through a cracked kitchen window
Delightfully tickling my nose

Front porches adorned with cornstalks
Multiple sized pumpkins, silly shaped gourds
And huge welcoming door wreaths
Decorated with the colors of autumn

The smell of fresh burning wood
Wafting on the afternoon breeze
And gray smoke performing an aerial ballet
As it quietly escapes the brick chimneys

Afternoon shadows silently dancing
Across the tall swaying trees
A lone blue jay atop a gnarled branch
Screeching his dismay
At the changing of the seasons

Autumn in New England
One of my most precious memories
How I long to be there again
Before my days are done

The place I have always called “home”

autumn,  england,  harvest.

Author: ultimatepanicqueen
Date: 09/02/2020

№ 1142520

New England

If I saw you today,
Would you think the things I'm thinking?
If I saw you today,
Would you feel the way I'm feeling?
The stars shined brighter through the lens of our love
And even though we played the odds
I guess it still was not enough
For you.

Is there some other way
For me to stand my own reflection?
Is there some other way,
Other than self destruction?
Well these sleepless nights make me forget our reverie
But the cigarette between my fingers
Brings me closer to the memories
Of you.

Do the New England stars
Shine any brighter without me?
Do the New England stars
Dance for you profoundly?
From Oklahoma they get darker every day
And here I am
Searching for temporal escaping from the pain
I thought was caused by you,
But really was caused by me.

Should I say goodbye
To you?


Author: AW Davis
Date: 05/02/2020