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Best Poems Written by Ian Sylvester

Below are the all-time best Ian Sylvester poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Ian Sylvester Poem

I Rise Above

And it flew higher,
Above the reach of arms which bind,
And logic which Past defined,
It flew higher,
Above the reach of stones of persectution,
And above all unkept resolution,
It pushed higher,
Past the thoughts of those who said It'd never be,
And success would never see,
And it flew until it reached the darkness in which
itself designed,
A blackness of the sullen mind,
And it said,
"I will rise above"...

Details | Ian Sylvester Poem

A Blind Sunset

He glances out the window,
And watches the sunset,
But he doesn’t see the beauty,
Nor the warm rays which, 
Pierces through the glass,
Only the anticipation and, 
Anxiety of a long night,

Carefully, he watches, 
The colors change,
First the bright orange, 
"God I pray this never ends…"
Filling with a deep red,
"Just a little while longer…"
Slowly softening to the, 
Deceptive pinks and purples,
"Please, one more minute…"
Fading into the crimson black,
Which only night can bring,

Reluctantly, he gets ready for sleep,
Yet, knows it will never come,
He tossed and turns,
Half praying, half waiting,
Knowing what will happen,
In the way only a child can,

A light! It peeks through a crack,
In the door as a shadow floods the opening,
Quickly, the figure slips through the door,
And shuts it softly, but not without the,
Empty creak which has become so familiar,
The shadow climbs in beside him,
Touching his trembling leg, whispering,

“Hush little brother, it’ll be alright,
While I’m here, have no fear,
I’ll keep you safe tonight,”

He struggles and writhes,
Sadly knowing he will never,
Break the grip and prays to faint,
To loss all consciousness and,
Memory of that horrible night,
Just for one night without the pain,
Just for one night without, 
The cold empty feeling, 

Several years pass, too many to count, 
A single call, one he had never expected,
He rushes to the hospital to find, 
His tormentor for so many years,
Lying on a cold, hard bed,
Able to move, but only by pushing a button,
Able to speak, but only with a whisper,

He stays by him for weeks, caring for him,
Reading to him, watching over him,
Still suffering, still unable to move, 
He takes his brother home, 

The day goes on, moving slow as all,
The evening comes and he,
Watches once more as the sun sets,
Carefully watching, Orange to red,
Red to purple, and as the purple turns to black,
He walks into the room where his brother lies,
Slowly, he sits next to him, holding a pillow,
Stroking his head whispering,

“Hush big brother, it’ll be alright,
While I’m here, have no fear,
I’ll keep you safe tonight,”

The difference between right and wrong,
Can be hard to find,
But who’s there to see you,
When justice is blind?

Details | Ian Sylvester Poem

A Timeless Sleep

I remember when I was small and life was simple,
When you got what you wanted by flashing your dimples,
When the homework was what’s two plus two,
When the hardest thing was tying your shoe,
When the most boring thing was when naptime came around,
When you would get in trouble for the smallest of sounds.

But know things aren’t quite a simple,
Not an inch of your face found without a pimple,
Now the homework is Trig and Biology,
Piling it on, no emotion, yielding to no plea,
It’s not just tying them; the shoes have to look nice too,
You have to know what’s it, whether it pink, red, or blue,
Now if only I could find a good position to sleep,
In this pile of homework that has become shoulder deep.

And here we are again nearly 50 years later,
Things still not being too much greater,
Past all the times when we though our lives where tough,
Living in the time where our heir is gray and skin is tough,
Still where the cloths you wore as a kid,
And the kids now where what your parents always did.

You realize that you are the homework now,
What happened 9/11, who did it, why and how,
You squint your eyes, wishing the light was dim,
It’s not the pimples now; it’s the wrinkles that replaced them,
Know you’re ready for that nap taken so many times before,
So you lie back in your chair and lean your head towards the floor…

Details | Ian Sylvester Poem

Unswayed

I choose my path tonight,
In search of middle ground,
Between vice and virtue,
Not easily found...
Surrounded by this wake, I stand,
In a sea of fake, in search of land,
Pushing forward as far as I can,
But with each step, sinking deeper into sand...

So this is to the shadow that walks in my stead,
To the devils and the demons that drift in my head...
I will not be intimidated, never be eliminated,
By an abrasive body there to be discriminative,
Always underestimated, understated and underrated,
But under everything my fate cannot be weighted,

I am ready to be vindicated,
By this cave that has been made,
Cause this shade creates a shadow,
In its attempt to masquerade,
An allusion of a solutions,
In order to dismay and dissuade,
So pull me out of this hole,
I will not stand afraid,
Cause my shell may be unsteady,
But my soul to this day,
Has always stayed,
And remained,
Unswayed

Details | Ian Sylvester Poem

Music

It does not cast a shadow,
Nor does it judge, mimic, or belittle,
But it is full of emotion,
When expressed, time stands still,
Ubiquitous to society,
And inspired by nature,
More valuable than gold,
But cannot be spent,
More real than the stars,
But cannot be seen nor touched,
It can calm the most incorrigible of people,
And create passion in the most stoic souls,
It remains the same,
But is constantly changing,
And is older than life,
But will never age nor die,
To move by it is beautiful,
But to create it is a gift from God…

Details | Ian Sylvester Poem

Breathing

She's not breathing,
I Hope she does in a matter of time,
Right now she's seething,
From all the pain she holds inside,
And now I'm grieving,
For the loss of another beautiful mind,
But reminds me we can all fall down at anytime,
even the resplendent and kind,
If by our own design we choose to resign,

She was too independent of a girl to ask for help,
Maybe it's because she never had nobody to ask,
So she turned to liquid strength from inside of her flask,
And buried her face in a besotted mask,
Basking in an artificial glow that can never last,
Ever harassed by her woe is me thoughts,
Sown by her naughts
Though it's not what she sought,

But then her drinks became her drugs,
And her drugs became her loves,
Her loves became her fate,
And her fate became her hate,
And as of late, can't even stand to suffer,
Looking at herself in a mirror straight,
So she took her drugs to try and sedate,
Not realizing just how many that she ate,
And as her heart slowed to a minuscule rate,
She cried for help but it is already too late...

Details | Ian Sylvester Poem

Roads Leading Nowhere

The mass of men lead lives of quite desperation, -1
Seeking false shelter, forming insignificant nations,
Seeking organization in a world of disorder,
Setting restrictions, boundaries, and boarders,

Creating obstacles from things we don't need,
Obsessed with improving power, pleasure, and speed,
Time, man-made, is used only to create pattern,
No longer a choice, freedom is shattered,

Money has become the measure of success,
While happiness is left behind as only second best,
So many busy roads, filled with clutter, built with care,
While the best roads have no beginning and end nowhere…


1- First line is from "Walden" by Ralph Waldo Emerson

Details | Ian Sylvester Poem

Bad Fortune

The alarm goes off with an earsplitting ring,
It’s five in the morning, I can’t see a thing,
I rise reluctantly from my comfortable bed,
And take two aspirin to ease my head,

I walk around clumsily like any other morning,
Slowly, my coordination starts forming,
In the car, I hear the news, more bad times,
Traffic’s bad, weather’s worse, a thousand more crimes,

I get into work and what do I see,
A pink slip on my desk, just waiting for me,
Thoughts run through my head as I walk back out the door,
How will I tell my wife I can’t provide anymore,

As I contemplate my problems and curse my life,
A plane slices through my office like a shearing hot knife,
As the day goes on, things only get worse, 
Buildings are collapsing, debris is dispersed,

As my wife weeps at my side for friends we had lost,
I can’t help but to think my life is of little cost,
Could have easily been me with the thousands of others,
With those brothers and cousins, uncles and mothers,

5 years have past and I still don’t know why,
I was allowed to live while others had to die,
I may not have the perfect life at any proportion,
But never again will I curse my bad fortune.

Details | Ian Sylvester Poem

Change

Change is the way the we all can relate,
We change fate, change hate, change the things that degrate,
And at a range, change seems like it only does great,
But isn't it strange, change can lead to such a great debate,
When it was only meant to open up gates,
For the men and women who want equal rights and rate,
For the broken soldiers, held by their brothers,
Only waiting to be seen, in the end,
By their mothers in crates...

As she throws herself upon it with no restraint,
There can be no mistake,
Even though it seems so fake,
She waits in the aftermath of this wake,
For the world to find the right path,
Have no hate,
But all around she sees wrath,
Losses faith,
And decides to forge her own path,
Through the gate,
To the powers that be,
The power select,
The power of the people that we elect,
The power they neglect,

So she argues certain elements,
With rhetoric and relevance,
And scholarly intelligence,
But all they ever tell her is...
"We'll get back to this,"
When they really mean is...
"Stop reminiscing on past events,"

She decided that she can't really live without her kid,
And takes a little stroll off the Brooklyn Bridge,
Do you know what she asked when she had the floor?
Just for a little bit of change like I said before....

Details | Ian Sylvester Poem

Finding Legacy

Life is contradictive but never predictive,
Concealing but never deceiving, preconceiving or vindictive,
Only addicted to our own restrictions of right and wrong,
To the places we are and the places we belong,
We pick the places that we feel like we are much more strong,
Because where we want to be is too far or too far gone,
But life can be revealing if you trust where you are drawn,
It's about the life you'll forge, not what you've done or have foregone.