Best Poems Written by Shay Old

Below are the all-time best Shay Old poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

View ALL Shay OldPoems

Details | Shay Old Poem

spark

"If you are blessed, with a spark, Within your spirit and within your heart, It is in my opinion, that it is within your obligation, To be brought to ashes by it." This is a quote by Charles Bukowski, It is the exact reason people must know the ins and outs, Of something that we do not care about. It is why we dive deep into things we do not love, Not yet. A spark, is unique. A spark, is a gift. But, At times, our own light goes out, And is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think, with deep gratitude, Of those who have lighted the flame within us. But what is your spark? What do you feel ignites brighter in you, Than anybody else? Understanding? Love? The 2 intertwined concepts, one of which i struggle to grasp, but having a spark for one, ignites the other. Brings understanding to its knees. And I — I want to love without limit. Love with the certainty of the sunrise, Not because it’s perfect, But because it’s inevitable. Because it's guaranteed. And the day where the sun no longer rises, for you, but not for me, I will no longer continue to love. Not for I am unable to give it afterdeath, But for you are Unable to receive.

Copyright © Shay Old | Year Posted 2025


Details | Shay Old Poem

triptych

Hydraulic system, heart made of pistons Every co-ordinated mechanical manoeuvre My heart served to you on a platter, your hors d'oeuvre I look into your eyes, a deplorable disguise Retinas of glass, I see right through your lies Figments of my imagination Don't come and cause me more vexation Circling my mind Tormenting, suffering, sempiternal gyration My nerve endings started with you Now unaware to whom Now that you're gone I can finally take off this costume Now isn't the time for salvation I re-evaluate our amalgamation Not even an antisocial personality disorder Could sum up a source of order Wander your favourite forest Walk past me and get hit with my poignant odour Uncover my carcass, I don't need a hearse Just dump me in the Oder Dismember me piece by piece Put me back together however you'd like The puzzle wont be beautiful Something incomparable to Vandyke

Copyright © Shay Old | Year Posted 2024

Details | Shay Old Poem

ashes

We should kiss or else I will light the whole world on fire You said with a heart not only I could admire Why should I limit myself to two options When I could have both and rid this world of unholy concoctions Why don’t we kill two birds with one stone Use the fire to create a path to your throne Look down upon the ashes of competition The hierarchy you made, victim to abolition what do you see in my eyes? Do you see right through them, a heard of disdain Or do I cover them well, reflection masking the pain The day is better ending with you You shown up late to our rendezvous Should’ve known better to show up late February 14th would be our final date There was no masquerade to our choreography you’ll be the first I reference in my bibliography Dance around the fire exchanging visceral looks Let my fingers trace your body and rediscover some nooks You breached the walls of comfort, almost an emboli Never imagined I’d get this lowly

Copyright © Shay Old | Year Posted 2024

Details | Shay Old Poem

perish

My veins are the schematics My conscience the pragmatics A nuclear weapon that’s omnifarious Self destruct the one that’s multifarious Many parts no two the same Doesn’t mean I’m not painfully plain Nothing about me is distinctive Identical and parallel, anatomy’s instinctive So why am I so self-destructive? You don’t need to be quite deductive Deduce the reason and the people pleasing My consciousness requires easing Rhymes makes the feelings and words coalesce Does it really makes you digress? Words made up of morphemes Feelings made up of morphines Nothing without you has meaning It isn’t held it’s given without demeaning My schematics look better inkless Don’t want my veins to circulate just ingress

Copyright © Shay Old | Year Posted 2024

Details | Shay Old Poem

moths

She keeps moth wings in jars, fragile things pressed against glass like broken promises. She says they’re beautiful, even in their ruin. I ask her why she collects what’s already dead, and she just shrugs, says it’s not about life— it’s about remembering what it felt like to fly.

Copyright © Shay Old | Year Posted 2025


Details | Shay Old Poem

slivers

Your nails are painted pink, but the edges are chipped, revealing tiny slivers of skin beneath the color. You press your fingers to mine, lining them up like constellations, and ask if I think they’re ugly. I shake my head, because how could I? Even in pieces, you’re the brightest thing I’ve ever held.

Copyright © Shay Old | Year Posted 2025

Details | Shay Old Poem

puddle

i will grip the last shards of you, until the edges slice my palms. through skin and tissue, muscle and bone, 'till its through the other side. when it lands on the pavement, blood-soaked and broken, i'll clasp my palms together, stronger than we ever were, and scoop up the shattered pieces. i'll cradle them, with that gentleness you one day forgot, and never shown me again. as i step over the stains in the concrete, my lacerated flesh, held tight to my chest, i know. i know that, i'll let your memory dissect me forever, until all that remains— is a puddle of all i hoped we could be.

Copyright © Shay Old | Year Posted 2025

Details | Shay Old Poem

grievance

You were something different From the small stuff like finding images in the lines of texts To the big stuff like needing constant care which I was happy to give I wonder, what if you read into me as much as you did those lines? Would you care for me as much as I did for you? Constant reminders I was the best you had ever had I see why it's past tense now The rain reminds me of you From being able to observe it while staying dry is beautiful Being in it is only going to get you wet I found you weathered, dripping; I was the umbrella you needed Little did I know the strength of the weather would leave me with tears of my own The rain fell through the gaps and still soaked you The sleeve of my shirt, a dampened concoction of blood and tears I imagined how it must have felt for you to bring such a cold blade so close to your skin Maybe I'm not meant to love, just heal I miss being there to tell you everything will be okay Who's going to be there to comfort you when your cats are no longer? The subtle reminder every day that it's not going to be me, the storm reconquers At least I know you don't need to depend on me as much as you once did Maybe you can become confident enough to where shorts, reveal what you once hid

Copyright © Shay Old | Year Posted 2024

Details | Shay Old Poem

ambages

People say, when there's a will, there's a way But this way will only lead me astray Without you everything annoys me again The faint sound of people I hear when my music stops I don't want them to exist, you changed a pessimist Your ideologies are your utensils My existence was your stencil I feel you reach in me, rearranging Organizing, correcting, taking I don't like it but if its what you want I'll live with it in the hope that one day it will be exchanging I'm not perfect, but I could be for you I'm not a poet, but you're still my muse My ink filled pages, our relationship's ambages You sliced into me and I'm hiding the cut It's all for you and you're so unaware As long as you're fine you don't even care Destroy me from inside out Watching with blurry eyes You were my Fomalhaut You blurred the line of lies

Copyright © Shay Old | Year Posted 2024

Details | Shay Old Poem

stars

Take a knife to the strings that attach me Pull out the bridge pins, strum me with drachmae Maybe then I'd have some worth for you to allocate Maybe your role in the end was the devil's advocate A Satanist, not the blatantest Flown under my radar, the blurb of my memoir Where will you be when I windup a wreck Wasting away, misstepping, forgetting, hanging from the cromlech Wailing of sirens and the echo of 5150 Following the path painted by the whiskey Always have been a pretty little liar Introduction to an overanalyzer Since when did you become so starry-eyed? Mix my chemical bonds, manipulate me with aldehyde The stars in your eyes, perhaps sourced from the countryside? Deactivate my neuronal tracts, just a drop of cyanide I never thought I'd be one to commit fratricide Only something you could manage to make glorified

Copyright © Shay Old | Year Posted 2024

123
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace