New Poems About Footy

I was shocked and dismayed to be asked to produce five new poems for this World Cup. See — I know very little about the football other than the fact that it is kind of  boring. Like an energetic version of golf. However,  I do love rampant nationalism when it does not involve guns. As such, The World Cup is a time to indulge in stereo-typing and loads of name-calling in pubs across the world. Brilliant! So, I really did want to make some good poems. The task was — I’d get five countries and I have to write a poem about each with two 11 line stanzas. These poems were put on the World Cup 2010 Poems website set-up by Dave Coates and Al Innes. So, I read loads about the legendary Maradona and the Hand of God and found out some interesting facts about the The Football War between El Salvador and Honduras.  Here’s the list of countries:

* Slovenia

* Argentina (oh my, The Hand of God!)

* Algeria

* Honduras (The Football War)

* England

Go Here to Read All the Poems For Free

But Wait — There’s More — These poems aren’t just a website — they are a beautiful Collector’s Item Chapbook that you will cherish for ever and ever so buy one below!

Here at ForPub headquarters we’re stoked to announce the launch of a new collection of World Cup 2010 Poems, so that you can relive our most recent Cup in all its poetic glory.

The Project was developed by Dave Coates and Al Innes, who talk more about how they came upon the idea in a podcast at the   All of the poems are available to read at the WC 2010 Poems website, but should you fancy a printed copy for your coffee table, the collection is available for you now in the ForPub store or at the Forest shop.

Read on for more about the project, who is included, what it’s all about, and a lovely sample poem by Coates himself!:


Why World cup poetry?

There are only a few events that truly catch the world’s attention. Maybe the Olympic Games, or the Haitian Earthquake Appeal. Maybe even Avatar. The World Cup is unique among sporting events. Unlike the Olympics, where the best-funded, best-equipped athletes usually come out on top, the World Cup rewards positive play. The biggest teams are there, the Italians face off against the Brazilians, but occasionally a second-tier team pulls off a minor upset. Maybe in a penalty shoot-out, maybe a goal-keeping blunder. Whatever transpires, it is on the World stage, with the eyes of every country fixed on it. What makes poetry so powerful is that it has the ability to reflect that attention back onto those taking part, onto the people and places around the globe who make up the store of memories and myths.

But the real magic of the World Cup is the fact that millions around the world are focused on one place, in one time. We hope this collection can take that magic, the magic of following your home team or adopted heroes, minnows and giants alike, and bring it to life through poetry. If people take something from a riddling 11-line poem, or climb inside a 22-line narrative and walk around, they may find something that moves them. We hope that both football fans and non-football fans can realise that the World Cup is about more than football, it’s a house party in the global village, and we’re all invited.
Paperback: 36 pages
Published: 18 July 2010
Author: Multiple Authors (see below)
Genre: Poetry
Cover: Ericka Duffy
Language: English
ISBN-13: 978-1907811050


Amount: £3 + P&P

Contributors:

Excerpt:

South Africa
Where was I? The sun’s out,
the best day of this year, the colour
on my face has changed from Cooked Chicken
to Raw Steak, I was remembering talk
from fifteen years ago, as though
we could go back, call the whole
damn thing a mulligan and live in that last
few minutes before the stadium drained out
for good. As if we could teach ourselves
again, point to each mark and say here,
let me show you the worst of it
or here, carry it as I do, at least
it will feel lighter. Last night
I breezed through a few of your old papers.
Where were we? What was this place
we had seemed to embody, inhabit,
discover and be discovered like stepping
suddenly into a clearing, or into a warm
and well-lit room? At the opening
ceremony a thousand-and-some performers
rushed forward from the stands
as if sure of where all this was going.

Dave Coates