Bog Miroslav Mandić Bog
You
are
408082
bud
WALKING OF BOJAN KOSTIC
I don’t know Bojan. Bojan has been walking yesterday instead of me lipovica. it’s snowing for a while now. gray clouds. I’m going towards the woods. dog is following me Bojan at 14:44 I got to the pear tree, lonely on the white meadow. I’m getting into the woods, going down towards the path which is following the stream. all I can hear is crunching of the snow under my feet Bojan at 15:08 crossroads. two roads. I let the feeling leading me… Bojan at 15:29 open space. cut timber is laying covered with white blanket. I feel sadness Bojan at 15:43 I carry on. I’m getting into the woods where man hasn’t made the path of destruction. I hear that the stream is near and I’m heading in that direction I come across two little birds on the branch who break the silence for the moment… Bojan at 16:04 I’m following the traces of an animal that has chaotic motions. came out on the open space again and trying to orientate myself I saw a hundred years old oak on the top of the hill and I walk towards it… Bojan at 16:13 top of the hill. I’m observing the terrain. I see Avala tower I’m on a right path. I’m starting to feel tiredness… Bojan at 16:27 train station Nenadovac. smell of sleepers. train is coming from the tunnel I asked the railroad watchman if there is drinking water somewhere around he pointed me towards the nearby spring. it felt nice to talk after such a long silence… came to the spring. my foot fell through the ice and it got wet… it’s time to go back home… Bojan at 17:11 I feel better from the tiredness. only now I started to enjoy:-) Bojan at 17:16 I have another half an hour to home. it got dark in a second I’m still walking through Lipovica Bojan at 17:19 I came to the asphalt and street lights. just a bit more… Bojan at 17:23 I got in front of the house. I’m taking the snow of me. Miroslav It was a pleasure to walk the Planet with you. Thank you! Bojan at 17:34 I don’t know Bojan but I see him in his words a man looks like his words we are walking our words – our words are walking us I won’t be walking for couple more days. I wouldn’t like the state of illness to come back. I will make it up. or somebody will walk instead of me I will be walking here. through words down this path for the first time nobody is around whiteness melody open space infinity bud together one warmth softness water over the water mind road a step is creation who ohm who-ohm o round circle of roses rose of bud only wholeness is setting free
33RD DAY OF THE YEAR – FIRST 33 DEFINITION OF THE BUD OF ALL BEINGS
Bud of All Beings is surrendering and permeating of all beings Bud of All Beings are the particles that sparkle in the joy of being Bud of All Beings is the yellow ball which I’m throwing in the air every day Bud of All Beings is the same ever since there is world and time Bud of All Beings is the peace that pervades these words of peace in all beings Bud of All Beings is how I create the bud every day and not even knowing how I am doing it Bud of All Beings is everything that hasn’t been spoken out – green is travelling towards blue Bud of All Beings is not hurting – atoning for wounds that we made to others – licking and curing of their wounds Bud of All Beings is not hurting – curing the wounds we got from hurting the others Bud of All Beings is a treasure of unexpected – shiver of the body within the body Bud of All Beings is to get to love everything that is the way it is Bud of All Beings is to get to love fallen off and left over paint on the walls Bud of All Beings is uncountable number of combinations in the simple Bud of All Beings is this street which we passed through Bud of All Beings is the answer that all beings are yearning for Bud of All Beings is the flight of the being within the being Bud of All Beings is not as I want but as God wants Bud of All Beings are the leaves of the cabbage that suddenly popped into my head Bud of All Beings are a lot of ancient ways from which there are no better ways Bud of All Beings is insisting from which the humour is constantly making jokes Bud of All Beings is the danger of living without which there is no beauty of living Bud of All Beings smells of sweat of the rejected ones Bud of All Beings is I don’t give a fuck that you don’t give a fuck for me – I give a fuck for you Bud of All Beings is Convivial Sunday Lunch of All Beings that lives again Bud of All Beings is taking on ourselves the undertaking as a principle of love Bud of All Beings is the principle of love in which there is not any undertaking Bud of All Beings is a journey like this which has never been undertaken so far Bud of All Beings is a journey into the history of every word Bud of All Beings is all within me that I have been given by a worm Bud of All Beings are the eyes of the hen which is laying an egg Bud of All Beings are buds that have believed and started before it’s time for them Bud of All Beings are buds that have frozen in order to save the rest of the buds this morning before I woke up I dreamt the most beautiful dream in my life the dream with Oljenka Jovin – it’s the most beautiful experience of my life
GOOD WALKER VIOLETA JOVANOVIC
how to sing even better – well to sing again how to sing even better the word good – well to sing again the word good how to sing even better the word beautiful – well to sing again the word beautiful how to sing even better the word tree – well to sing again the word tree how to sing even better the word swallow – well to sing again the word swallow how to sing even better the word road – well to sing again the word road how to sing even better the word rose – well to sing again the word rose how to sing even better the word loyalty – well to sing again the word loyalty how to sing even better the word ball – well to sing again the word ball how to write even better the word gift – well to write again the word gift how to write even better the word gift – well to write again the word gift how to write even better the word gift – well to write again the word gift few words about the spring and the stream will feel nice few words about the stream and the river will feel nice few words about the river and the confluence will feel nice few words about the confluence and the sea will feel nice how to sing even better the words fuck me – well to sing again the words fuck me few words about the soil and the seed will feel nice few words about the seed and the root will feel nice few words about the root and the trunk will feel nice few words about the trunk and the treetop will feel nice few words about the treetop and the leaves will feel nice few words about the leaves and the fruit will feel nice few words about the fruit and the everything will feel nice the needles the nails the woollen yarns the towels the little bugs the shores the chimneys the how to write even better the word gift – well to write again the word gift how to write even better the word gift – well to write again the word gift how to write even better the word gift – well to write again the word gift god. I. something. anything I. god. something. anything I. something. god. anything anything. I. something. god god I. god something. god anything I god. I something. I anything something god. something I. something anything anything god. anything I. anything something god bud I bud something bud anything bud 13:48 I’m starting. the sun is caressing me and I want to caress Miroslav and all beings with this walking through Petrovaradin to the bridge this part of the road has always been boring for me on the concrete blocks before the bridge is written only what man gives up is lost bridge. wonderful – big chunks of ice are floating down the river a dog startled me. I screamed and it got afraid of me river bank Because of your path from these steps to that tree I wanted to walk in Novi Sad but the steps are not there anymore the concrete slope is here now instead down the path I walk down the Becarac beach – by the Danube river bank I walk really really slowly for the heart of the health of all beings young trees that have been planted next to the old tree stumps have grown it’s a pity I don’t know more about the trees – I see on the branches something that looks like the buds boulevard. it’s interesting and difficult to walk through the city. it’s warmer Podbara. I didn’t get tired at all. but the pain in the feet has appeared where did I get the idea from to walk in the boots I walked past the house number 19 in the street of Patrijarh Carnojevic in which you have lived. it’s withstanding – there is already a lot of buildings around it I got lost in Podbara but I managed to extricate myself and in the centre of the city I finished the walking 17:02 how to sing even better the word walking – well to sing again the word walking creativity is the food to all beings
READ ME – KISS ME
it would feel nice to put honey in the hot tea field meadows beauty of numbers here comes the bee healthy throat health is the heaven I enjoy in the desk and working at the desk I enjoy the writing a word or two and the beauty is here we recognise each other through the beauty beauty of mine You are my beauty beauty – goodness I kiss Your belly it smells of honey and wild flowers smooth is the skin of beauty clear I’m writing in order to see how beautiful you are the drops of second hot tea have splashed from my lips onto the table lips of beauty to the labia of goodness be pleasant be pleasant to all beings it’s nice to write writing is dancing and singing particles of writing are transforming into the wave of writing wave is following the wave word is kissing the word word word buds word word this is also nice everything is nice everything is good beautiful one be pleasant
HARDLY
every evening I can hardly wait to get up and sit at the desk I was at the toilet I aired out the apartment and made the bed made tea and coffee all the time I prayed to God and listened to John Heart I drew the Grass Bud in my diary after one melba toast I had a first sip of coffee my fingers are just waiting to start the dance over the keyboard the keyboard is almost noiseless. soft. soft are the words as well morning words full of sun I’m enjoying the music on internet radio station From The Root To The Fruit I already broke off the shore as if the grass is growing behind me blessings are blades of grass as well everything that grass is giving us every moment everything that everything is giving us every moment everything that that is giving us every moment everything that grass is giving us every moment everything that is is giving us every moment everything that giving is giving us every moment everything that us is giving us every moment everything that every is giving us every moment everything that moment is giving us every moment everything gives itself away every word gives itself air gives itself imagine just how air gives itself imagine just how imagine gives itself imagine just how just gives itself imagine just how how gives itself imagine just how air gives itself imagine just how gives gives itself imagine just how itself gives itself
23RD TIME LAO TZU – WALKING OF BRANKA ZGONJANIN
The greatest fullness seems empty Yet it will be inexhaustible Movement overcomes the cold And stillness overcomes the heat That which is pure and still Is the universal ideal Lao Tzu in forty fifth chapter There is no greater disaster than being discontent And no greater retribution than for greed Whoever knows contentment will be at peace forever Lao Tzu in forty sixth chapter it’s snowing as well as the strong wind there is a lot of beauty and happenings in that whiteness in the air art of the air songs of the winds Branka Zgonjanin has started with her walking good morning my cactus I kiss You is what I said this morning for the first time to the cactus when I sat at the desk I would love to have a conversation with air with light trees every being of all beings man also speaks to the newborn even though it doesn’t understand it to address everything – to wish good to everybody alone – surrounded by love – I live in one and only family of all beings I wrote last night in my diary what I felt air is love air surrounds and fills me if I breathe – I kiss and I’m being kissed I’m in Mahabharata in famous conversation between Krishna and Arjuna before the decisive battle I am a taste of water I am the light of the Sun and the light of the Moon I am the saint syllabus ohm in the Vedas … (here is the rest of the 11 lines of the citation from the Mahabharata that I couldn’t find in English) Krishna to Arjuna it stopped snowing but the wind is carrying the snowy dust from the football pitch and tomorrow at noon I will be at the Convivial Sunday Lunch of All Beings come every moment is the opportunity for perfection the wind just whistled next to the window this is a hot bath of love for Your body soul and spirit I hope that in Monday I will start to walk a bit I’m lagging 65 km behind it’s past noon. sun has started to shine it’s Saturday – celebrate it 08:57 I’m going from Roelof Hartplein to the north of Amsterdam I will be walking by the canals, for you Miroslav, for the Rose, for the Bud 9:55 I stopped at the northern border of the center of the city to drink espresso it’s cold outside for my feet, so I will worm them up in next 10 minutes the waitress is telling to a black guy why she must work, what she has to pay also the yoga classes. it’s warmer. I was walking almost whole hour without stopping should I keep walking to north or cross the water by bridge? it’s foggy. I’m sad these days. if it wasn’t for the Bud I wouldn’t be enjoying in this walking I would be feeling too lonely. oh, and canals seem somewhat lonely, this morning but the swans, ducks, seagulls and grebes are here. your grebes, Miroslav 10:10 I’m starting again. actually it is so erotical to be in the streets – some kind of enjoyment from the childhood is awakening in my thighs 10:17 on the central station two gypsies are playing the flute and accordion gypsy-like sad-joyful. I leave them 25 cents, turn around and start crying. life! I think of Heidegger: pain is giving us its healing side where we least expect it 10:29 I’m now walking on the edge of the centre of the city, behind the City Library. the fog is so thick that it looks as if I’m in the middle of the sea. there is no end to the water. there are no shores. seagulls are screaming grebes are somehow mellow. a small dog. every dog on the street rejoices me. I-dog 10:50 we are walking by the canal, grebe and me 11:07 I’m slowly going back towards the centre. the rest I will walk to home in order to save the money that I would spend on the tram. I love do save I love modesty. it teaches me nobility. you know that the best, Miroslav 11:23 Amstel! the river! river is the river after all, and canals are canals 11:51 in the familiar neighborhood – Heinikenplein. wow! a heron on the car! how did she get here? she flew over onto the other car 12:12 it seems that I got lost again. mm, yes – Apollohal 12:25 Roelof Hartplein again. I’m finishing. pleasure from tiredness thank to all beings that I came across and that I have walked with thank you Miroslav. thank you Bud I think of the foal in the mare language of first beings
BY POSTPONING I COMPREHEND
it’s cloudy. dry snow is slowly falling I will walk today. I’m looking forward to it but I also afraid of the cold coming back On 25th January, at 13 hours and 15 minutes Milika Stankovic, my good, my magnificent mother, my maw has died. Now I’m alone. It’s been ten days and I still can’t watch her photos more than three seconds without tears in my eyes. How can those who died still live? Where to build more durable monument to those who die on us from the monument we build within us? Srecko Stankovic sent me an e-mail yesterday mothers go to mothers I’m outside. after two weeks walking again. again outside like in my childhood after two week illnesses. I hope everything will be good I’m near Vuk monument. I passed today’s first two kilometres when I get into the rhythm of walking after two-three kilometres I feel I am an unbroken thread of the path always and forever as if I’m coming from the infinity and walking towards the infinity from timelessness into timelessness from the first word into every word like the first one yesterday Tivadar Domanecki has run for me in the snow in the outskirts of Budapest joy is duty and debt joy is work work of joy I rejoice that believe all beings are dying and acknowledging that nobody ever died and that nobody dies like a child that draws a tree and sees that it is a tree I also write nobody ever dies and I believe that nobody ever dies I never saw anything more insane and unreasonable from reasonable people I photographed young tree of lagerstroemia. it comes from China Japan and Australia. it will win over this coldness and blossom soon red shawl and red scarf are covering my mouth and nose this is not much of a walking but it is the best walking I walked 10.39 kilometres. it wasn’t hard. I should slowly go back When I was younger I was taking care of myself the way that I wasn’t taking care of myself now I should be taking care of myself to eat before I go for a walk to put the cream on my feet and massage my Achilles’ tendons from today I will eat honey and cereals every day now when in the warm do I get tired I feel hungry I wink at the beauty that surrounds me I wink at the goodness that is circulating within me outer and inner circulation it is a singular kissing – circling through the Bud of All Beings
TWO TOWELS
I slid for a meter or two on this ice the turtledoves are cooing I am walking like a big hill I’m happy for never having a car if I would live again when I’d be fourteen I would find one round pebble and I would caress it every day for all my life I wink at my stones I’m walking so as stones would feel better in the whole Universe I would love to have two big soft towels. one dark red and the other blue or yellow so as I can enjoy them every time I get into the bathroom I discover more and more beauty in mellow humour I think all the best of the gravity gravity is cosmic sex gravity is the subtype of sex I think of the sexual life of the stones sex wouldn’t mean that much in my life if I was engaged in gaining wealth and making wars I’m climbing up the steps – it’s such a miraculous sex if you put your emotions into this blessing and believe a bit love forever will happen to You now I’m walking like a mountain. I want to say that patience is mountain it’s not the asphalt that caused pain to the earth but man who poured it over the soil neither is the concrete. neither is the steel I surrender myself to the bees I imagine thoughts like bees and thinking like healing honey now I’m walking like the ocean I’m still and I’m moving on the crossroads I turn here and there and I recognise that I watch like an animal animals are enjoying while watching watching is great enjoyment I remember how in my childhood I enjoyed to watch walking is refining the senses feet are always touching eyes are constantly watching ears are listening all the time nose is always smelling lips are just kissing feet are kissing eyes are kissing ears are kissing nose is kissing lips are kissing senses are kissing the soul – the soul is kissing the spirit I’m kissing You kiss I kiss
FIST STANDING ON THE FIRST TIME SECOND TEN YEAR WALKING
on the icy and snowy path through the woods first standing on the Bud of Walking I’m standing in the middle of the woods I’m watching how wind is carrying the treetops trunks are still but in the heights they are swinging as if they are dancing trees with their beauty are enlarging and spreading the beauty of the world I’m happy that I live in the world in which trees live as well king of the woods is greeting the president of the trees the wind is whistling wind the cleaner sometimes creating is nothing else but cleaning wind the sower sometimes creating is nothing else but sowing I wink at the names of all winds winds are everywhere domestic and different I turn around to see if the dogs are following me steep snowy path made me run so as I wouldn’t slip on the snow a tree whose arms I threw myself in has stopped me I got sweaty on the uphill so now when on the streets I feel cold on the chest and stomach large rivers are warming up the areas they are flowing through how not to love rivers when they are steaming how not to get excited when I see the horses and how their sweat evaporates in the cold how not to get dizzy when it opens up to me that the world is just one love poem everything loves everything else and they don’t even know that everybody lives from life and the life itself lives out of love life wouldn’t be living if it didn’t love curled up dog is laying on the snow. he’s calm. only the wind is bristling his hair I made few photos of the tram and the bus and I realised it was the art of the tram and the art of the bus the art of this brick wall that is collapsing beauty in my thighs should I go straight I asked the dice. the dice answered me yes I’m close to the Nest. I’m dazed from tiredness – I enjoy the tranquillity I’m looking forward to getting into the Nest like I was looking forward in the beginning to get out of it
SLOBODAN VULICEVIC
last night I watched a TV show on the eighty two year old painter Slobodan Vulicevic who died. I would love to read his book This Book I Dedicate to the Rain Drops. I’m greeting You Slobodan Vulicevic I drew Good Walker Slobodan Vulicevic those four dogs attacked and frightened me real good I hopped for immortality of Slobodan Vulicevic I live with every being some dogs have already became people. some people have already became Slobodan Vulicevic there is no art in world centres this young man is beautiful from shyness I want to say that I’m here I dedicate this blessing to the particles of Slobodan Vulicevic I’m walking down the Samuel Beckett street for Slobodan Vulicevic all streets in this world could be called by name Slobodan Vulicevic Slobodan Vulicevic loved everything and everything loved Slobodan Vulicevic before she entered the shop an old woman threw away the cigarette at one moment Slobodan Vulicevic said that he walked the Planet eight times. nobody believes me – he said. I believe You Slobodan Vulicevic I took one log from the pile of wood that was for sale. I’m carrying it in my arms like a book. I will take it into the Nest to be like flowers in my room I hope I will talk more and better to the cactus then also with other beings objects and things everybody needs a nice word nice word doesn’t cost anything and it’s a great treasure actually because it’s worth more than treasure nice word is rare from now on I’ll sow nice words let the nice words sprout it’s a good book this log it feels nice to hold the log with both hands behind my back Universe is the nest I walk in when I get out of the Nest I get into the nest of everyday art every moment everywhere and for everything love – eternal art within the poem of all beings I turn around and wink at Slobodan Vulicevic and his wife I am a poet of this log – I say I am a poem of this poet – it says you are carrying me in your arm I am dear to you – says the log dear and warmer all the time – I say to the log Slobodan Vulicevic – you made – art of Slobodan Vulicevic
GOOD MORNING WRITING
4.3 km – good walking – writing is beginning it’s nice when I’m just walking. I don’t think and I just forget myself good day grass – I greet the grass on this slope grass – it’s such a nice name if I would live again like a ten year old I would say after ten years I will become the king of grass the art of towels is drying on that window wet snow is beginning to fall for the first time here in Visnjica I saw Danube I put the hood on so as the taping of the wet snow lulls me big wet snowflakes are falling on the way back in front of the deceased’s house there is even more people for the funeral never in my life have I seen such big snowflakes snowflakes are greeting rain drops this is the art of the snow falling I enjoy the magnificent snowy performance until a few moments ago it was cloudy. a bit also sad and now with this snow it’s magnificent it’s a holy duty to be happy such happy duty have all those who are happy to be happy because of the happiness and to emanate happiness everyone who is occupied with what they are doing are emanating happiness snowy performance is over everything again sinks into the grayness and how this unloved grayness is sublime the art of happiness is the experience that what is is happiness the art of happiness is to put the hand on the chest and feel the warmth when people would know that they are happy whenever they are not unhappy planet Earth would be a mine of happiness is this woman in front of me happy that she has green gloves on her hands I wink at happiness your name is echoing from Karaburma it’s written on the wall every place on the Planet radiates the moment of God’s creation and therefore I am now in the Universe – here in the eternity dear. Intelligent. beautiful. attractive. tender. and I love you it’s written on the wall I’m in the woods. ground is white. fog has covered the trees do you carry a stick because of the dogs – a man with the stick in the woods asks me after sublime and magnificent here comes divine on the soft snowy path that I am walking down
ART OF THE WHITENESS
let’s go snowy blessings it’s been snowing all night. everything is covered by snow there is no parked cars any more. instead of them some beautiful white objects fine snow carried by strong wind is falling white water is falling snowy whiteness is taking the breath away by its beauty I was often writing about animals that are getting wet by standing outside in the rain it’s the first time that I’m writing about animals which are standing and the snow is falling on them only the whiteness is whiter than the snow snow – the art of whiteness it’s not accidental that children love snow thanks for the dignity – I said to the man who gave way to me on the snowy path wind loves snowy spaces everything is only in a fairytale I am a fairytale-man – walker of the fairytales Miroslav Mandić book is not a fairytale for children Miroslav Mandić book is not a fairytale for grownups Miroslav Mandić book is a fairytale for everybody in Miroslav Mandić book today is snowing all words in the book are snowing today words look white God’s white words are looking white I think of the snowdrops and white deaths of those died in the snow have fish ever saw the snow they have seen the ice but snow when the snow is constantly falling beneath the snow paths are disappearing I admire everybody who is making paths through the snow The path is longer when it’s hard to walk (on) it I made a snowball for the first time in my life I didn’t throw a snowball but I left it on a little post beauty of this world is only a hint of the God’s beauty I bow down to warm and dry deep boots on my feet thanks to Vesna Milovic who gave them to me a couple years ago I DON’T WANT TO DIE instead of me they will plant the parking lot Plain Tree this is written on a paper that is hung on the tree at the Bulevard where soon the trees are going to be cut I also don’t want You to die and do know Plain Tree even when the last parking lot in this world dies out You will live Your glory God and Your glory snow for 13.96 km and 3.08 hours of walking today average of this week’s walking is 13.18 km and overall average of the Bud of Walking is 10.966 km because I lack 65 km that I have to compensate since I wasn’t walking because of the illness
ART OF THE WHITENESS
let’s go snowy blessings it’s been snowing all night. everything is covered by snow there is no parked cars any more. instead of them some beautiful white objects fine snow carried by strong wind is falling white water is falling snowy whiteness is taking the breath away by its beauty I was often writing about animals that are getting wet by standing outside in the rain it’s the first time that I’m writing about animals which are standing and the snow is falling on them only the whiteness is whiter than the snow snow – the art of whiteness it’s not accidental that children love snow thanks for the dignity – I said to the man who gave way to me on the snowy path wind loves snowy spaces everything is only in a fairytale I am a fairytale-man – walker of the fairytales Miroslav Mandić book is not a fairytale for children Miroslav Mandić book is not a fairytale for grownups Miroslav Mandić book is a fairytale for everybody in Miroslav Mandić book today is snowing all words in the book are snowing today words look white God’s white words are looking white I think of the snowdrops and white deaths of those died in the snow have fish ever saw the snow they have seen the ice but snow when the snow is constantly falling beneath the snow paths are disappearing I admire everybody who is making paths through the snow The path is longer when it’s hard to walk (on) it I made a snowball for the first time in my life I didn’t throw a snowball but I left it on a little post beauty of this world is only a hint of the God’s beauty I bow down to warm and dry deep boots on my feet thanks to Vesna Milovic who gave them to me a couple years ago I DON’T WANT TO DIE instead of me they will plant the parking lot Plain Tree this is written on a paper that is hung on the tree at the Bulevard where soon the trees are going to be cut I also don’t want You to die and do know Plain Tree even when the last parking lot in this world dies out You will live Your glory God and Your glory snow for 13.96 km and 3.08 hours of walking today average of this week’s walking is 13.18 km and overall average of the Bud of Walking is 10.966 km because I lack 65 km that I have to compensate since I wasn’t walking because of the illness
FIFTH FAIRYTALE – EVERYTHING IS IN THE HEEL
art becomes before I even create it blessing disappears before I even write it when a moment ago I said at the pharmacy three packets of vitamin c please I heard that my voice is hoarse yesterday I didn’t hear it. I didn’t say a word last night before I went to sleep and a little while ago before the walking I felt it… I hope I won’t get sick thoughts of getting sick make me feel wretched I feel ashamed. I feel guilty. inferior exposed exposedness is the art dear to art he can’t walk a single day and he wants to walk for ten years he can’t write a single blessing and he wants to write them for fourteen years I’m sweating a lot I’m wiping away the sweat under my hat facing our mortality is a prerequisite of immortality if somebody knows Sinisa Labrovic tell him that this is a lifted up hand for him in my childhood I listened a lot of times to how somebody got sweaty and drunk cold water and caught a cold and died I touched the plane tree at Kalenic market when I touch it everything is good I’m at the desk a horse in the barn if I had felt better while walking I would have been writing more about Sinisa Labrovic the fact that I’m not writing about Sinisa Labrovic is a way of writing about Sinisa Labrovic yesterday I heard for the first time for Sinisa Labrovic I’m happy for Sinisa Labrovic it’s easier to be in this world when Sinisa Labrovic is in it everything is in everything goodness in all beauty in everybody sometimes writing is nothing else but wishing to write something beautiful branches high in the sky sometimes writing is nothing else but shame body somebody heal bud
WITH LASER
goodbye cactus I said to cactus while leaving the Nest now three hours of walking for 33 blessings it was 3 hours15 minutes and 13.47 km actually because everything depends only on me I know that nothing depends on me actually because nothing depends on me everything depends only on me yesterday lemon was agreeing with me a lot now everyday sowing of the money it is a little white envelope on which is written a bud to you if you find it somewhere and open it you find 50 dinars in it and text to unknown person health happiness love and bud of new money from unknown person it’s a bit warmer so I don’t have a scarf over my nose and mouth but from time to time I blow warm air through the nose to keep it warm I’m walking – I’m not travelling – everything within me is travelling yesterday Ivana translated the title Heel Fairytale... as if it is was fifth fairytale and I meant heel fairytale (“fifth” and “heel” in Serbian is the same: “peta”, comment by Ivana) few days ago Ivana translated that Miroslav Mandic book is fairytale for everybody and I wrote that it is for all beings I wink at Ivana I’m in middle. I’m going back. downhill. so far it was uphill so I was sweating a lot and worrying too much only about the walking it’s a bit easier to walk downhill everything is friend and friendship everything doesn’t know the enemy and hostility everything is constant creation of everything everything is constant kissing of everything of tails and wings of flappers and winds of books and meadows of lasers and streams of trout and mature water three magpies in the branches I bow down to everyone who doesn’t have enemies I wink at the shells always when I wink I feel how I’m also winked at in some places where the snow wasn’t cleaned one walks like walking over little children’s mountains uphill to the Cvetko’s market. sweating again slowly for the health of my lungs from Cvetko a slight downhill slope. collecting and gathering three hours of walking. not a lot. not a little. it’s eternal I am Your glory hallo cactus thank You for waiting for me I said to cactus as soon as I got into the Nest
HUGGER-SINGER
little is so little exactly as much as big is big incomprehensible the biggest is yearning for the smallest the smallest is yearning for the biggest everything that is is constant wedding of the biggest and smallest one step for the biggest one step for the smallest biggest wouldn’t exist without the smallest nowhere the biggest isn’t feeling so good like in the biggest I’m gently holding my hand on Your belly I write with love – I write to love art of the chestnut it’s getting warmer – sparrows are flying again I wink at the flees I winked at the flees because I’m thinking all the time about the sense just now I felt the sense of today’s walking I’m walking so as to hug the Universe shall we go there to cheat the people one young boy says to another near Vuk monument Universe couldn’t exist if nobody was hugging it infinity of existence genesis is the only happening within the genesis everybody has its own place everybody exists only through genesis I hug everybody who hugs good throat sings beautifully when body hair stands up from the joy the world is always saved I’m still holding my hand on Your belly everything I am doing is cosmic work street works in the Universe under the light of the public of all beings
EPOS
beggars are the spout and delta of goodness while I’m walking I lift myself a bit with my foot of the right leg and that’s enough for the eternal art I wink at Ignacy Witkiewicz dedicated to Vera Varady’s Czeslaw Milosz I finished reading of Mahabharata. I don’t want to hurt anybody but world of warriors and wars is not my world all big epics that are talking about war and war waging are not mine I live on new not yet written epics on epos about patient observation epos about lofty non- action epos about not opposing the evil epos about a horse who is contemplating over man epos about glorious bacteria and viruses epos about grass and hay epos about the centre that is everywhere and periphery that is nowhere epos about love for every particle epos about big singing of small songs epos about the Bud of All Beings epos about a child which is resurrecting all creatures epos about the eyes of this woman who is crossing the pedestrian crossing epos not about the theory of everything but about love for everything epos about anonymous forces of love Jelena Besir and I had coffee at the half way point of her 2/33 Walking for the Bud of All Beings epos of loneliness epos of the rain – warm rain is starting epos of thinking epos ball eposgame epos of care-freeness epos of groundless heroism and heroism of groundlessness epos of the root and fruit of words epos about the best one – poem is telling the best one unlike the ancient epics that are telling about the best ones biggest epos ever written – epos about anything I-epos by epos-ohm by ohm p o e m
WINKER
it’s so beautiful that I’m walking slowly from the beginning heavenly. harmless. innocent I also took off my sweat-shirt I’m just in my shirt near the main Post Office I think of snowdrops the wind is getting stronger. it’s colder. I feel cold for a while just to say sorry for slagging you at the writer’s forum approached me and told… who I haven’t seen for twenty years I can only imagine how people some people are slagging me to be slagged is good for calming down I’m holding my palm around my throat. all my attention is going towards keeping myself from coldness when I got going I thought how good it was that I put on such a light clothes now I’m thinking quite the opposite that it’s not so good I put on such light clothes I was hoping that on the Bulevard’s uphill I’ll come across a leeward spot but I didn’t my palm around my neck and just as soon as possible to get to the Nest I’m thinking about a lot of situations in which beings are hiding themselves in shelters under the eaves running away from the rain into the leeward spot from wind into the warm to keep away from the cold coming into the nest crawling into the pits and holes entering the cities getting to the wood running away into the basements from bombs running away from tyranny all the way until they reach free territory if I’m already freezing and worrying may at least the blessings stay if I’m already slagged off may there at least be blessings about slagging if I was better dressed it would have been a different tune but instead it’s this blown through one older gentleman with his hand on his back is peacefully whistling I drank a warm tee I had a warm shower I drank lemonade I already changed the sweaty undershirt I’m drinking a bit of brandy I wink at the one who has slagged me on the writer’s forum I wink at winking
LUMBERJACK OF LOVE
I will be drawing little circles for every plane tree on the Boulevard in Belgrade it’s been said that they are eighty to ninety years old but soon in spite of their beauty and incredible importance for life and culture of Belgrade they will be cold-bloodedly cut down by the circle-wholeness I will heal me-You and all beings from helplessness because I can’t prevent evils that are constantly happening in the world who is – what kind of a being – is developing financing and producing weapons that are used for killing it’s starting to rain slightly. will I manage to draw all the little circles people are terribly cruel – unsurpassed killers but good deeds of rare beings are surpassing evil doings of people as I pass the plane tree I draw a little circle I drew all plane trees from Cvetko’s Market to the main Post Office I’m getting a cramp in my left hand in which I was holding a pad and crayons I continued to Kalemegdan in order to cover today’s mileage I’m starting to draw little circles for every plane tree across the road from the main Post Office to the Cvetko’s Market I finished – all the plane trees are now alive forever although man will soon commit the slaughter slaughter-man slaughter-man transform yourself into the healer man – don’t take the life of the other beings man – clean your evils and sins in the oceans of tears of other beings man – may Your chest tremble with love cry for all beings man – you can’t live or survive if you kill any other being man – have you ever seen the beauty of the green moss on the trees man – have you ever seen an apple on the tree branches man – have you ever been saved from coldness by a tree man – have you ever found better method of thinking than the picture of tree man – give birth to the nursery plants man – quiet down within trees man – find your survival in the lungs of trees man – you are just a servant to the dignity of trees man – trees are the blue roses in the universe man personal religion is the religion solely of God God alone God of all beings all big religions are just private religions man conscience is knowledge knowledge itself knowledge of all beings all big universities are just the interest of private knowledge man giving your life to the other is the only economy profit itself harmony of all beings all big corporations and banks are just death and sorrow of private ownership man Your beauty is the beauty of God beauty itself beauty of all beings all big fashions in everything and also in art are just private and old fashioned only-I-you lumberjack healer calmer waiter
FIRST 33 BOW-DOWNS
I bow down to Your face I bow down to the grass which is swaying in the snow I bow down to the nostrils and pine needles I bow down to the bow-downs of all pilgrims I bow down to the openness I bow down to the walk while walking bow down is freedom with which free people are kissing the un-free I bow down to all hugs I bow down because I enjoy bowing down I bow down to flowers that smell nice I bow down to the road that leads everyone to everybody I bow down to the easiness of bowing down I bow down to the hand on the chest I bow down to the lips on the groin wow how bowing down is healing everything gathers in the bow-down I stop anywhere and I just bow down – I call that wise I bow down to the seriousness of bowing down I bow down to the tenderness of bowing down I bow down to the particle that is trotting through the heart of the Universe for millions of years I bow down to the dog in the city in which there is not even a mad dog I bow down to the fingers of my hands that folded up in the prayer for prayer I bow down to the heart that is kissing the lonely hearts I bow down to the heroism of those who have endured the pain of love and not hurting anybody I bow down to everyone who brings peace to somebody else I bow down to the mystery of the soil I bow down to the holy scriptures that are talking about the one and about simplicity I bow down to the yearning that is giving You birth within me I bow down to the warm and dry long legged boots on my legs thanks to Vesna Milovic who gave them to me couple of years ago I bow down to the inexhaustibility of repeating the unrepeatable only repeating is singing the unrepeatable and that’s why I bow down again I bow down to the bud of Your belly button I bow down to the bud of Your heart