Thursday, 17 July 2014

Four Boys Playing Football on the Beach


-I’m Messi!

-No, I’m Messi; don’t you start!

-Okay, I’m Neymar

      before he got hurt.


-Neymar? You’re crazy,

      I’ll be Van Persie

-What about you

      little one?

-I guess I’ll be

      that Mario Goetz.... that Mario guy!


My brothers and I,

sun, sand and blue sky.

Who knows? Maybe one day

we will be household names.


For our ball,

a small buoy.

My dad said it’s got holes

so now it’s our toy.


Its bounce is not bad,

If it was white with black lines

it'd be just like the real thing.


The match starts,

we kick with bare feet;

and singing hearts.


I try to do a trick,

but it goes wide off the sticks,

no goal… but boy;

what a strike!


We run and pass;

kick and then  kick some more,

As we’re all getting tired

I get lucky and score!


Like a real star,

I kiss my shirt,

try to glide on my knees,

and point up to the sky.


Who knows? Maybe one day

we will be household names.


As we’re catching our breath,

loudest thing ever heard:

Swooosh! Bam!

And we’re down in the sand.


My eyes cannot see,

I can’t feel my feet.

I think of mama and pray.


Before too long

they hit us again

ending my pain.


Four boys,

lying like

broken toys.


We didn’t get to finish our game,

Will the world now make us

household names?

 Ahed, Ismail, Zakariya and Mohammad Bakr.
Copyright © Francisco Rebollo 2014

1 comment:

  1. Published on 'Poetry24' 08 AUG 2014