Rome: The First Three Days

Greetings from Boston. It's very strange to be back, but I think I'll get used to it.

I've got over 600 pictures of Rome (not bad for a week, eh?), and I really need to find a job ($400 don't last long in Boston), so I think I'll write about my first three days in Rome and then make a post for the last few days of my trip.

Rome is quite the place for coming up with poem ideas. One of my days there I wrote five poems, and I was pretty impressed with that. Then a few days later I got six. Production-wise, that's unreal. For reference, in February I decided I would write one poem a day. February is a short month, so I figured it couldn't be that hard. 

I ran out of ideas on the 3rd.

But I pushed through it, and I completed my goal, although my last poem was a haiku I wrote write before going under the knife for a not-quite-an-emergency appendectomy (I had a few hours before it would have exploded). 

Anyways, that much poetry is crazy, and only a few of those poems will ever make it out of the first draft stage, but I did a lot of writing. 

Enough words. Picture time.

I found a fountain in the Piazza of the Republic.

I walked to Santa Maria degli Angeli e Martiri.

It was one of the most beautiful churches I have ever been in.

Love this statue. I sat on the marble floor and wrote a poem called "Meditation."

There was also a statue of John the Baptist's head.

And an "Angel of Light" statue that creeped me out hardcore.

Down the street is a huge Moses statue.

I read that it's not proportionate and ugly, but I liked it.

I found a house I want.

I made my way to Santa Maria Maggiore.

It's one of the 4 major churches in Rome. (Yes, I made it to the other three.)

This is the side that was open.

This is the nave.

And the ceiling.

And a blurry pic of some of the stained glass.

And this is the front, but it was roped off.

Then I hit up Saint Peter's of the Chains.

An awesome Death awaited me inside.

These are the chains used to hold Peter in Rome.

Good thing the Romans knew to separate them from the others and keep track of them.

Michelangelo's Moses. Love.

Then I found another church.

Not much to it.

Then I found this thing. I don't remember what it's called.

Sweet.

Monday I made my way to the Protestant Cemetery.

Right next door is a pyramid from the 2nd century B.C.

As awesome as it is random.

Pilgrimage complete.

Hello, Mr. Keats.

"Here lies one whose name was writ on water" is possibly

the most beautiful thing every written. In my opinion, of course.

He's buried next to his homeboy.

"The Angel of Grief" (1895)

Sculpture by W. W. Story, placed on his wife's grave.

This one earned a poem.

Also buried in the Protestant Cemetery is Mr. Shelley.

His wife wrote my favorite book.

There was a slug. And me with no salt.

One of the gravestones had a sculpture based on Chekhov's play The Three Sisters.

I saw the play, starring my buddy Jordan Sobel, while I was at BU.

Depressing, but good.

Then I saw some churches on a hill. So I climbed it.

Turns out there's a beautiful park and a view there.

I love dangling my feet off of stuff.

Flattering statue of Joan of Arc.

Palm trees.

There's a monastery (I think it's a monastery) on the hill.

If you look through the keyhole, you can see St. Peter's Basilica off in the distance.

But my camera sucks.

Here's a close-up of my camera sucking.

Headed down to the Circus Maximus.

The Mouth of Truth wasn't available for gagging (but it will be next post), so I just took a picture.

Temple of Hercules.

Loving the Tiber.

The Ponte Rocco (Broken Bridge).

Took a sneaky pic of a guy doing karate in the Circus Maximus.

Oh, that's what it's called. The Nerone.