Because it’s Thursday, because my friend asks me what doors mean to me, and because we are to shape up our poem today – the shape can be only one.

Prompt 28: “Write a concrete poem. In brief, a concrete poem is one in which the lines are shaped in a way that mimics the topic of the poem.“
I have a good memory from a concrete poem on a Thursday. Once before I wrote a door poem and it got me featured the next day. Today my poem – which was a pain to format but you know this – is an answer to Lyona’s question which went thus:
query : are doors… a fetish? an obsession? a literal love? a symbolic icon for you? or… all?!
My door love
What are
doors for you,
she asks. She who is
so quick and generous
with her warmth and cheer.
Who is building people up
expecting nothing in return.
Just as doors are building up
buildings giving them sense.
What are doors for me? A
constant, a structure-pro-
viding certainty, a pacifier.
Beats smoking. But also a
point of contact. What a
house wants me to see
first. Okay, windows too
but they are more for
show.
There is also their purely
aesthetic component.
Grand beauty. The wow
factor. Door as a history
marker. As a silent witness.
Observer of this zoo passing.
Then
there
is door
as PRO
TEC
TOR.
Over
my dead
planks.
Thou
shall
not.
Leave
all
hope.
In this way as
I pass, one
street turns
into a gallery
and a doors
concert. They
sing all at once.
Some sing with
their silence.
And I’m a fan.
And now the poem as originally envisaged.

The photo above is from Massa Marittima, a lesser known but brilliant town in Tuscany. Below are some more scenes from various door-filled streets of Italy and one from the capital of Slovenia, which made my camera and soul sigh.
The gallery ends with another photo from Massa Marittima taken by Norm Frampton, our previous Thursday Doors host and originator, when he was here with his Honey in 2018. Those were the days. Don’t forget: Doors take you places.
Also don’t forget that on Sunday our current host Dan is starting his second Thursday Doors Writing Challenge. Here you can view all the doors gathered as an inspiration. I already know which I will use.
And tonight I’ll wake up at 4 a.m. to see if Luka and the Dallas Mavericks can eliminate the Utah Jazz. Luka has never won in Salt Lake City in his four seasons. Everything must come first.







…and the sunny side of Farnese.











For Thursday Doors challenge hosted by Dan at No Facilities

The last day in my NaPoWriMo history

2018: April 2017 postcards
“Dog! You have abandoned your owner again.” When the street writes poetry and adorns it with yuccas, the only thing left for you to do is turn it into prose.
(Read and see other postcards.)

2019: Dis connect
I was supposed to watch 18 minutes of four poets talking Emily and then write my own meta poem. A poem on a poem. Meta is my mother’s name. I learned Meta at the source.

2020: Green room
...and in the middle of it little Manja growing up into a secret, cleaning her room the only way she can, by making it interesting, turning it into a game: first all the mess is gathered in the middle of the room, then it is divided into little heaps according to drawers and shelves where it is due to end up, and finally it is put there. In alphabetical order.

2021: Real questions
How cold will it be tomorrow if they say it will be twice as cold and today it’s the freezing point, 0 degrees Celsius? More importantly, when I sense a loss is coming in my card game, does this mean that I will lose no matter what I do, or is it to spur me on to do something extravagant and still win? And why does this remind me so of the future of humanity?
This day in my blogging history
2015: There comes a point in your life when you need to stop reading other people’s books and write your own. —Albert Einstein
Love doors and windows, there is always much mystery and intrigue with them.
Cheers to your poetry visions!
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Mighty kind, Mary. 🙂 Just did the last one for the last day of April! I think I’ll give my poetry a bit of a rest now. It has earned it.
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haha! Manja–you and I are so thinking alike! Before I even read the words under your last photo, my first thought was ‘Don’t jump!’ 😆 The red door with the turquoise shutters overhead–so pretty. And that little kitty watching to make sure you captured him in the photo. Good job. 😺
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Hihi, I love it how you always notice all the animals, Lois. And you even recognised him as a he! 😉 Thank you, I’m glad we think alike!
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These a greet images of these doors.!!
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Thank you, Anita! 🙂 I always have eyes for them…
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Wonderful poem, and I hope you are celebrating another win soon 😊
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Thank you, Not Pam. I did! 😉
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When I saw the Doors poster, I thought, “I wonder if Manja made that?” You have so many wonderful doors. I love your poem, and the way you displayed it. I really like the way people are integrating Thursday Doors with other challenges. There are too many opportunities these days to be in our own little corner. I tend to prefer a post that melds multiple goals together than multiple posts. I know it’s harder for the blogger, but you’ve done very well.
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Thank you, Dan. I only combine challenges when I must, I’m not a fan of it. Since I post every day, I can spread the themes among the days, usually. But yes, I’m in favour of integration. That poster is a bit too neat to be mine. 😉 But I’m glad it made you think this.
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Great doors, and a good poem too!
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Thank you, Sue! I’m glad you say so.
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😊😊😊
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I love the yellow tones so warm and inviting of the buildings and rich woods of the doors, the arches, and the flower post and the poem, but mostly I LOVED seeing you smiling on the bench at the end. 🤗
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Thank you, Deborah! I trump all the doors, ha! 😉 I agree, these towns look so inviting. All well to you.
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I really like the clothesline with the castle on top. And I like the poem superimposed on the doors. A good solution! And concrete. (K)
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Thank you, K. Nothing if not concrete. 🙂
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Love the poems shape and sabulous doors as always Manja 🙂
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Thank you, bushboy. Spoiled for choice here…
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a history marker,…silent witness,….observer of this zoo passing….
I especially like this part. All that and so much more. Well done!
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Thank you, Bojana. I never gave much thought to my door obsession, but since I was asked I wished to answer truthfully. I like what popped up too.
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Fantastic selection of doors, and beautiful places.
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Thank you, Conspicari. They are beautiful indeed.
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Massa Marittima looks lovely and so does Pitigliano – and not just because of the cat!
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Ha! I bet you notice all the cats everywhere, Sarah, just like I do with dogs. Thank you. If you ever come over, both these places are a must.
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Your poem perfectly captures how I feel about doors too. And seeing the poem without the images, I imagined the skinny edges as hinges for the door (those unsung heroes that transform painted wood from being merely a wall!). And seen as a hinge, the line might be “Thou shall not [omit period] leave all hope.”
As always, you get me thinking and admiring!
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Interesting idea about joining those two lines, Carol Ann. To write a poem and post it in the same day it doesn’t leave much quality time for editing. I know the visual could be done better. I’m glad I get you thinking! Thank you!
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Isn’t poetry (in part) about providing a springboard to other thoughts and images?? To me, your poem did that, exactly as written. Which makes your accomplishment all the more amazing: without editing, it still worked! Wow.
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Thank you so much! ❤
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Manja, I remember your Door poem , that got featured, very well!
Well done, again!
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How lovely that you remember it, Punam. 🙂 Thank you so much!
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My pleasure.🙂
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Passing zoo – I can just imagine this from the door’s perspective. Yes indeed
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Thank you, SMSW. I’m glad you can see us from the perspective of doors… I hope you’re well.
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Queen of the Doors. Agreed!
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Ahhh, how kind, thank you, Katy! 🙂
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Wonderful concrete poem. Of course it had to be a door, and I love how you placed the words in the photo. Wonderful photos too, as ever. My favourites: the yellow blooms and Bestia in the background, and that magpie captured in flight! What a sight. How can it be one for sorrow when you capture it like that. And the two empty chairs in the background, the whole image tells such a singularly interesting story. Definitely one to use if you ever start doing photographic prompts for ekphrastic poetry. It spoke to me not as book cover but as that ❤
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