Marcellus, Marcus Claudius stared into the streets--
 its painted statues towered over market stalls,
 while oblivious to it all, the masses throbbed 
 onward, 
 onward,
 pulsating in the rhythm of the Tiber.

 Public slaves lined the walls,
 whitewashing them to conceal
 the graffiti that would insult any senator, 
 while onward, onward, 
 one after another 
 lecticae jostled past.

 He didn't need to see the occupants to know that, 
 adorned in crimson-striped togas, 
 each senator sat upward behind curtains of his lectica--
 to not be thought of as effeminate.
 And so twirling his thumbs until hypnotized into the fourth dimension,
 Marcellus, Marcus Claudius walked with the Tiber beating inside him.

***
© 2021 selmamartin.com

First things first today. I want to introduce you to this #NaPoWriMo featured poem on day 13, in case you missed it! There’s so much to read, it’s hard to keep up with. I had the honour to be together with Selma as a featured participant, because Maureen, who provides us with napowrimo.net “couldn’t pick just one”. I love that!

I’ve spent some time on the website of The Met again, looking for an art work that suits the poem. Selma added a beautiful picture of the arch of Titus to her post, which beautifully suits the open air image op the poem. I chose a simple pin head from wondering if it’s an object Marcus Claudius Marcellus could’ve held in his hand one time.

If you read this poem already and want to read more by Selma, I recommend this one: https://selmamartin.com/youre-doing-it-again-ma-cant-rest-in-peace/ And, of course, browsing through her blog!

Dear U,

Have you had any trouble with that devil after I left? I’m sorry I had to leave so soon. They took me away early. Mary called that the baby was sick. When the others in the cloister heard I was around, they wouldn’t let me go. Here’s the advice I promised: 

Brush and comb 
Trim and manscape
Freshen up with a wash
Moisturize with a leave-in oil conditioner
Apply a balm or cream
Wax to style and protect it

Sincerely yours, Anthony

Dear A.,

I’ve had no trouble at all. That staff through the mouth really worked. I’ve been resting since. The pomegrates have ripened and are seed-laden. I don’t care for their taste, but it’s nice to lay beneath them and let the juice drip on me. 

I think you may have misheard me when I said I wondered about what to advise the bride and groom. I was torn between wild orchid, bistort, and thistle. Maybe after your grooming advice you can add some bridling advice in your next letter?

Say hi to baby J. Let him know he can ride on my back when he’s old enough to not fall off.

Hope to see you soon!

Uni

The prompt today at napwowrimo.net was: “I’d like to challenge you to write a two-part poem, in the form of an exchange of letters. The first stanza (or part) should be in the form of a letter that you write either to yourself or to a famous fictional or historical person. The second part should be the letter you receive in response. These can be as short or long as you like, in the form of prose poems, or with line breaks – and of course, the subject matter of the letters is totally up to you.”

This is where it lead me. Saint Anthony Abbot mistakingly giving beard grooming advice to a unicorn. Here are the details The Met provided about these art works:

Object Details

Title: The Unicorn Rests in a Garden (from the Unicorn Tapestries)

Date: 1495–1505

Geography: Made in Paris, France (cartoon); Made in Southern Netherlands (woven)

Culture: French (cartoon)/South Netherlandish (woven)

Medium: Wool warp with wool, silk, silver, and gilt wefts

Dimensions: Overall: 144 7/8 x 99 in. (368 x 251.5 cm)

Classification: Textiles-Tapestries

Credit Line: Gift of John D. Rockefeller Jr., 1937

Accession Number: 37.80.6

Object Details

Title: Saint Anthony Abbot

Artist: Attributed to Nikolaus von Hagenau (German, ca. 1445–died before 1538)

Date: ca. 1500

Geography: Made in Strasbourg, Alsace, present-day France

Culture: German

Medium: Walnut

Dimensions: 44 1/4 × 17 1/4 × 10 3/4 in., 66 lb. (112.4 × 43.8 × 27.3 cm, 29.9 kg)

Classification: Sculpture-Wood

Credit Line: The Cloisters Collection, 1988

Accession Number: 1988.159

To fetch every vowel you throw at me

To stop and look

To innocently visit life

To expose the moon

To enjoy your laughter

To crossbreed marble with flesh

To push sweet nothings in my ear

To vote against televizing the rebellion

This was the second one I made for yesterdays prompt. I ended up with two poems, with very different atmospheres. This is the lighter one. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to do the day 10 prompt. I like it, but I’m having a life today and since that’s rare in Corona times, I might choose life over poetry.

This leaping hunting dog can be made to open and close its mouth using the lever beneath the chest. Originally secured by means of a thong tied through the hole in the back of its neck and two in the throat, the lever was later attached with a metal dowel in the right shoulder. When the mouth is opened, two teeth and a red tongue are visible.

Source: The Met

To fetch every life you threw at me
To stop and marble
To innocently visit nothings
To expose laughter
To enjoy your look
To crossbreed vowels with flesh
To push sweet rebellion in my ear
To vote against televizing the moon

Art found on the website of The Met.

Today on napowrimo.net: “Our (optional) prompt for the day is to write a poem in the form of a “to-do list.” The fun of this prompt is to make it the “to-do list” of an unusual person or character.”

I’m still tired from yesterday when the prompt led me to create a guestbook written by eight paintings. Even though I loved the prompt, I decided to keep it simple and work with what I already had: lines from the poems I wrote on day 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8.

I ended up with two poems, with very different atmospheres. This is the dark one, created by mixing up words from the sentences. I’ll post the lighter one later today, after a break.

About the title of the poem: The inscription on this piece reads: “Horus-Ashakhet, who makes live Ibi, son of Pediastarte, born of Tadiese…”

The rebellion ended
before it even began
when the rebels realised
it would be televised

They didn’t want to be actors
in a carefully staged reality show
and run the risk of being outvoted
after a failed bomb attack

The rebellion ended
when the rebels realised
it was scripted from the start
would have commercial breaks
merchandise was being sold already

The rebels outvoted the cause
dismantled their training camps
murdered their leader
took granates as souvenirs
and tried to get a book deal

They didn’t want to be actors
set up for commercial breaks

After selling to the highest bidder
they televised the murder instead

Our prompt today on napowrimo.net was to “Go to a book you love. Find a short line that strikes you. Make that line the title of your poem. Write a poem inspired by the line. Then, after you’ve finished, change the title completely.”

Which had me in a pickle. Which books do I love? Why do I love them? Will they have striking short lines that I’d love to work with? It seems that I love books that plant new thoughts in my head, make me look at things in a different way. Surprise me. Books that touch my head as much as my heart.

Browsing through my book closet I came across Animal Farm by George Orwell. I randomly opened it a few times, and found this line on page 67: “But the Rebellion is now completed.” Which set my mind off, wondering about what it takes to complete a rebellion.

Only after I finished the poem and was searching for a title I realised that when it comes to reality shows, Big Brother brings us back to George Orwell again…

As the website of The Met explains: This remarkable drawing – among the few extant fifteenth-century designs for representational sculpture – is a study for one of three narrative capitals carved for the Brussels town hall between 1444 and 1450. The subject is a pun on the word scupstoel (literally “shovel chair”), a contraption used for public humiliation in which felons were raised above water and then dropped in. Scupstoel was also the name of a house that previously stood on the site of the new wing of the town hall. An inscription on the drawing’s reverse indicates that the drawing served as a patroen, a model that may illustrate an intermediary stage between the preliminary sketch and the detailed pattern used by the sculptors of the capital. Its curved design suggests the three-dimensional form of the capital. Traditionally associated with the circle of Rogier van der Weyden, the renowned Netherlandish master who oversaw a large workshop as town painter of Brussels, the drawing recently has been attributed to Rogier’s successor in this role: the painter Vrancke van der Stockt. A 19th-century reconstruction of the “Scupstoel” capital (after the original, Musée Communal, Brussels) is now on the ground floor arcade, L’Hôtel de Ville, Grande Place, Brussels.