Biography of Ian Syder
Hello folks. I first have to apologise for my absence over the past 2 and a half months. Unfortunately I got in a bit of bother with the law (driving whilst uninsured) and ended up as a visitor of Her Majesty.
Whilst there I managed to compose some works (arguaby sonnets) which I a posting under th name Ian Syder.
Hope you like them!
Ian Syder Poems
Between bars, the gaps Hold, in suspension, stories And with the closing of the gate And the wait to turn from one chapter to another
Closing The Cage (Sonnet Idea Based On E...
I just don’t belong. I was set up and I shouldn’t be in here Be just. I was up set. I shouldn’t, in here and don’t I belong? Don’t I belong? Set up I was and I just shouldn’t be in here. Set up was I. In here just I be, I shouldn’t belong and don’t
Movements create new landscapes For the time being Lasting long enough to relate to the novelty Of the new being
In The Shower
Baring all in a baptism (Sometime cold, sometime hot, sometime just right) And to all of the unclean commune Who wish to come clean
Indistinguishable from The sound that echoed the block A voice calls a name (but who?) Barking out commands to do
An obscure percussion beats an atonalistic tune Bass conjoins with tenor in variations of la lune A high C pitches itself against a low range baritone The liberty cochophony unlocks a G sharp hushed
The Bard On Cell Block ‘b’ (Dedicated To...
There is a wordsmith on the landing A few cells up from mine He has made quite a name for himself He’s been in a longer time
Categorised by number And paternal name (as added identification) Standardised in blue and grey Characteristically the same: So monomorphic
14 Squares Of A Grid
A section of sky: lapis lazuli Lower down, to the left, a pinprick of light Up and up, a brighter, lighter blue; see To the right, a faint trail from an aircraft
The Hypothetical Terrorist
It could be the skin and the beard The arrow, in his solo cell, pointing to Mecca On suicide watch; it’s feared For his life and the life of all
Some will walk and talk Or talk and sit Off-loading their shit
Burglars financing an habit Tolerated, only just Methadone methods and Anti-depressed depressants
An obscure percussion beats an atonalistic tune
Bass conjoins with tenor in variations of la lune
A high C pitches itself against a low range baritone
The liberty cochophony unlocks a G sharp hushed
Silence broken, almost instantly, as if played too rushed
Sweet, yet unmelodious; familiarity crushed
What seemed first recognisable, though somewhat untoward
As yet to reach its finale; as yet to find concord