Thursday, August 6, 2009


Your eyes are buckets of love
That spill onto your shoulders.
You wear a white shirt that is now stained
Because love is red, and it has made you a mess.
You can’t read anymore,
Because your own story is always on your mind;
It’s the story of your love,
And how you planned to splosh it all around,
Filling every one of these rooms,
Washing us all in a comfort and attention
That is so delicate and beautiful,
So long as you know how to swim.


GbiZ said...

Okay, but shouldn't it be something like "Washing us all in the comfort and attention", since it's the story of a planned love drowning and not an actual love drowning? Does that make sense?

Spencer Troxell said...

Yes. Thanks for the suggestion.

Alpha:Omega said...

Love is a good topic for a psychologist to philosophize on. To me it can be lumped in there with the hallucinations of religion. Either way i think hallucinations are entertaining such as love and religion. Great poem too, i liked it. Here is one of my fav love poems:

I'm a nobody
No one special
A nothing-

Yet even i am loved,
Even i am the master,
Of someone elses soul.

i dont know who wrote it, it just hangs on my wall.

Spencer Troxell said...

Have you ever read a book called 'Enduring Love'?, or seen the movie adaptation (which was very good) There's a lot of commentary on the physiological basis of love in it. I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on it.