Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2010

Ninety Seconds

by clare lupino

A strategy of clever passes
To entertain the frightened masses;
With ninety seconds, Beckham scores,
To take our minds away from wars.
A million dollars,
Golden Balls - and...
We forget each tower that falls,
Each bomb that strikes,
Each missile soaring,
Each and every warship,
And so the winning score is ours,
Despite the felling of The Towers:
George's cross-
So's Uncle Sam,
So paint yer wagons,
"We'll take your son now, thankyou M'am".
He'll soon be home,
God's on our side,
To open up His church doors
To ring out those bells
With open pride,
Just don't...dwell
On why he died.
Remember how he loved The Game,
Long before this token fame;
The stripes, the medals,
The huge acclaim,
The army wife
With her own name,
The ninety seconds on The News,
The coat of arms,
The bulging pews;
The Merry Widdow festooned hats,
The regimental glory chats,
The eyes that stare at patent feet-
Defense procedure,
Lest they meet
And water with

Added: 26.04.2010

Judges' comments on this poem


loved the rhythm, it travels beautifully