Sunday, April 6, 2014

Sunday Space

Sunday Space

Sunday knows
the space between candle
and  light,
bird and flight;
knows how
(for only a day)
to lose 

the treadmill hours 
marking warpaint on a skull,
the breathing null
exhaling its glue
to which all things fly 
up the smoking week's flue.

closed eyes   
remember  sight, 
there's no space
between wine and cup
wing and flight
once the bird jumps up.

~February 2014, 
revised & rewritten, April 2014

posted for      real toads
Weekend Challenge:Sundays
Kenia Cris(An ExerciseOnExisting) asks us to write on the theme of Sundays. She actually asks for a particular Sunday, but I'm afraid mine is a bit more general. I wrote the skeleton for this poem a few months back, but it had nothing about Sunday in it, and didn't seem to have a point, so thanks, Kenia, for giving this poem a place to go.

Images: Top: Wheatfield With A Lark, 1887, by Vincent Van Gogh
Footer: View of The Hague With The New Church, 1882, byVincent Van Gogh
Public domain via


  1. there is a gentle place you have created
    and we can call it sunday, but you have captured the feel of it
    the space in between, before we jump
    on that treadmill again

  2. I love it, and I think I should have written my poem before reading yours because now I'll be thinking about it!!!

    Yes, Sundays are different, aren't they? For some people they are not always good but they do break the week, a space to breathe. :)

    Thank you so much for writing to my challenge.

    Kiss. <3

  3. Oh, FUCK you, Hedge! *tears hair out in great handfulls* *breaks pencils, tosses comp in waste basket*

    From the utterly original and striking images of the first stanza, right on through without a lag of any kind, this is what poetry is all about. Damn this is good. *takes a vow of illiteracy*

    1. I consider the f-bomb from you the SUPREME compliment, dear Shay. Sorry for the gnashing teeth--you only do it to me five to seven times a week, or however many times you write. ;_)

  4. This could possible be the paragon of Sunday poems, with the perfect paintings thrown in to boot.

    Thanks, Hedge.

  5. I think you captured the essence of sunday in that gap.. an in that gap resides the perfect peace... this spoke volumes for me.. and yes it's a peace you want to extend as well you can into the evening.

  6. Oh, man! This is so perfectly gorgeous as an evoker of Sunday spirit. Have I ever thanked you for sharing your poetry? I look to you as teacher and mentor. I'm glad I wrote mine before reading yours and having my socks intimidated off!

  7. "the treadmill hours
    marking warpaint on a skull"

    Yep. Just bury me bald.

  8. Goodness...we both talked of space. Sunday does know how to "lose the treadmill hours marking war paint on a skull" (Love that!) As always your words are art...beautiful

  9. Ha-- I am laughing at the comments. A beautiful contemplation of sunday tempers--though Sunday night was quite a bit different , in my house at least, from Sunday day--there's a lovely twist at the end there, where originally Sunday makes a space and by the end it finds a kind of unity of action--like the dancer becoming a dance, which probably can only come about through a certain contemplation first--a breath in, as it were. I realize I also did not write about a particular Sunday, but those are just a bit too intense for me to delve into in a poem a day moment. k.

  10. I enjoyed reading your poem...
    the "treadmill hours" is the phrase that jumped out at me for that is Sunday to me.☺
    Thanks for sharing

    1. Hedgewitch, I used your phrase " Treadmill Hours" that gave a name to my childhood Sundays in my post. I hope you do not mind. If you do, I'll rewrite to post.

      *The "treadmill hours" phrase is credited to
      Hedgewitch at "Lifesentences" ... it gave a name to those days
      of wondering during my childhood of what DID
      people do on Sundays. Please read her post at:

    2. No, that's fine, Siggi, as long as you credited it. I am flattered that you felt it said so much to you.

  11. Love this! All of it, and the pictures you've put with it too. :o)

  12. Me too! The way you wrote it for us to blur the lines between-how clever you are!

  13. Sight and light stay with me in reading this Sunday delight! :)

  14. Sunday Space. The poem itself is sanctuary. I find myself returning to dwell in the stillness here. Thank you.

  15. within your 'Sunday Space' is so much wisdom

    your poem also suits my Sunday meme at Lunch Break, i invite you to stop by and link up;

    oh, and please share at my blog on Tuesday 22nd April - 'Earth Day' and Thursday April 24th - 'A Poem In Your Pocket Day'

    much love…

  16. Not only paint me in the top most image, but wrap a quilt of this poem around my shoulders! Exquisitely comforting.

  17. after a pleasant Sunday stroll, with a roasting chicken redolent of spices grumbling my tummy, this is an enjoyable take on Kenia's prompt. obviously, I'm catching up... and so late, too. please accept my apologies ~


"We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, out of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry." ~William Butler Yeats

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