Bog Miroslav Mandić Bog

roe-deer is singing

 

I am a roe-deer

 

I is singing

 

I am

 

butterfly

 

another butterfly

 

a bee on the blue flower

 

little bugs have came out. flies started to fly

 

patience I love-kiss You

 

patience please help me

 

I close my eyes

 

I’m snoozing

 

wind carries me to the side

 

warm soil smells

 

good child is giving me strength

 

poem conceives a being

 

a poem being

 

singing being

 

master Srki is locking up his cobbler store Srki

 

poor man is looking at the bill for what he’s carrying in to plastic bags

 

goodness attracts all beings

 

a granny with placid smile is carrying asleep grandson on her shoulder

 

two hairdressers are sitting embraced in the sunny shop window

and waiting for a new customer

 

poor girl is walking in sneakers that are few numbers bugger than hers

 

poverty

 

exemplar

 

self-sacrificing

 

the dawn of the exemplar

 

one and only is the answer

 

it’s name is so beautiful

 

answer

 

is

 

responsibility

 

while kissing in the morning houseleeks and cactus for few days now I hear turtledoves

 

ten year old boy wanted to run across the street on the red light but the car started

moving and luckily he stopped on time. he got scared but even more so ashamed

 

only idiots are being cocky when drunk – a fourteen year old boy says to a girl

 

you’re drawing well – I said to the seven year old girl who was drawing

with chalk on the asphalt. she smiled. she rejoiced me a lot

 

if somebody offered me in my youth several basic roads

which I could take I would like the most this one that I took. but I would

have given it up because it would seem impossible even if it’s the most just

 

the wind is waving my unbuttoned red velvet shirt – that’s that road

 

with all difficulties that I’ve lived through and that I live I’m repeating

Nikola Tesla’s sentence whole my long life I’ve spent in

verve. that was the source of my happiness

 

you shouldn’t be tolerating that foolery – says older gypsy to the younger one

 

I’m walking slowly

 

I don’t have time for not having time

 

clearness

 

publicness

 

clear words of publicness

 

walking thirteen kilometres every day is not hard but it sure isn’t easy

 

writing every day 33 blessings is not hard at all but it’s sure almost impossible

 

I’m thinking of monks in deserts – I feel ashamed

 

I’m thinking of kids in mines – I feel ashamed

 

I’m thinking of horses – I feel ashamed

 

a man is sitting on the bench and writing. he hooked the paper to the carton

with blue clothes peg. before he writes something he waves his hands

in the passage I see small handwriting written in even rows

 

I already wrote how I’m more and more ashamed but since then I’m even more ashamed

 

why water isn’t for drinking – a young girl started whining when she saw

the sign on the faucet saying water isn’t for drinking

 

I saw one pebble on the road and I felt that I feel good because of it

 

stones – flowers on the road

 

everything that is actually is just a sort of stones

 

while walking over this soil with traces of caterpillar tracks of a

small trencher I feel I’m here as if I’m anywhere in the world

 

whole world is where I am and over there are borders money and passports

 

without borders money and passports I would have been everywhere

in this way everywhere is here

 

my heels are tensed from fatigue

 

painful

 

heels

holly

whole-heels

fifth

heels

tensed

 

while I’m kissing remains with the remaining strength

I hear turtledoves again in the late afternoon

 

next summer will be seven hungry years that have passed

 

and

until then

and

after that

nineteen years since Kaja is gone

 

Kaja

Mother

of God

 

sixth day since the buds of the book I am You are I started to bloom

 

when the midday bells of love begin to ring I’m writing the bud-poem

 

midday love – midday poems

 

poems of love giving

 

sore loins

 

sore Achilles’ tendons

 

sore heels

 

I’m thinking of a girl with radiant face that was staring at people on the lake

 

radiance of the contrite ones

 

enchanting beauty of the abandoned ones

 

lips on the loins

 

I’m writing for the spine

 

meandering

 

spine-like

 

through spinal health to all beings

 

        s        

p

i

n

s   p   i   n   e   n   i   p   s

n

i

p

s

 

self-encouragement

 

self-healing

 

self-like–to–all-like

 

mysterious stranger is entering the city

 

wanted

poem

is

actually

me

 

I

is

the

most

beautiful

poem

 

I

is

the

most

poetic

poem

 

16:16 (4:16pm)

one to the other is everything

 

wise sayings are said by themselves

 

sings

love-kisses poem love-kisses

sings

 

Kaja my mother is not the most beautiful mom

 

Kaja my mother is not my mom

 

Kaja my mother is mother to all beings

Your Kaja

 

dandelion

 

girl Madonna

Kajadonna

this 64246^th blessing is 555^th blessing till the middle of the book

 

wedding of small and big

 

harmony of obvious and incomprehensible

 

agreement between privileged and rejected ones

 

revolution of innocence

 

terrible need to call somebody but I don’t have anybody who I can call

 

nobody are mountains

 

nobody are clear creeks

 

nobody is cosmic dust

 

nobody is all is nobody

 

nobody of words

 

nobody of light

 

nobody the source of everything

 

nobody the one of disunited

 

nobody everything to somebody

 

somebody

 

I

 

somebody

nobody    I   somebody

nobody

 

nobody of beauty

 

somebody of goodness

 

roe deer

 

robin

 

all villages

 

all villages of all cities

 

all villages of all minds

 

village of oceans and winds

 

village of light and Universe

 

village of one and only heart

 

city of one and only mind

 

see come to have a swim together

 

autonomy

 

autobiography

 

auto-loyalty can somebody be loyal to You even for one second

 

while I was taking a photo of magnolia one

turtledove flew in to the wire to see what was it all about

 

be everything to me – I am Your love

 

misery – no. poverty – yes yes yes

 

inferiority – ne. calmness – yes yes yes

 

superiority – no. verve – yes yes yes

 

I’m waiting

 

I’ve leaned the fingers of both hands against the desk

 

I’m watching the screen

 

I was thinking of things that I’ve heard on television

 

of a girl that was licking ice cream being leaned on the exit door of the supermarket

 

of the shop for poor people

 

of the rarest courage – courage in peace

 

of the rarest compassion – compassion in happiness

 

of solidarity in catastrophes

 

of blue beggar

 

of the smell of rye bread

 

I’ll add béchamel to the cooked vegetables even though I don’t know what béchamel is

 

this morning I was tenderly thinking of holly nescience

 

I have never felt before more beautiful knowledge than the holly nescience

 

I remembered how I resented my age when I was twenty six

and how I came to the decision to go towards the new innocence

 

wow how sanative that was

 

I’ll go now to make that béchamel

 

while I was making béchamel – if it is béchamel at all – I remembered my

thoughts from this morning about beautiful human experience

owing nothing guarantees long lasting love

 

you want long lasting love – then don’t owe anything

 

people are much more cheating with love than with money

 

when love is gone then only money remains

 

that’s why money is so brutally precise

 

one third of money is love

 

blue beggar begs blue money

 

blue money is bowing of love-money

 

name of the blue beggar is I-am-You-are-I

 

I’m more and more excited by old people because I see girls and boys in their weakness

just awakened sexuality

 

greatness and beauty of old trees

already eternity of all beings

 

I’m happy because today I will write about my envy

 

I’m thinking about that from last night

 

these words moved me

 

people are slandering each other either out of envy or because they

are themselves like the ones they are slandering. in first case, those who

we are slandering are simply more claver, beautiful, rich or all together better

that the slanderer; in second case, of typical projection, we slander people because

of those individual characteristics which we ourselves posses in our hidden being,

and which are bothering us, which we are even ashamed of, being either

not at all or not sufficiently aware of them

Vladeta Jerotic in his book Teachings of St. Isaac the Syrian and Our Times

 

slandering gives birth to slandering. blessing gives birth to blessing

Isaac the Syrian

 

I’m going to the lake and I’m thinking of my envy

 

I’m happy to write about it so that envy would get out of me but not enter anybody else

 

I empathise with You and Your envy

 

before I went outside I wrote on a piece paper the words of

Vladeta Jerotic that I will leave to a random passerby on the lake

I didn’t do it because of what happened

 

I’m envious whenever I am not

 

when I am then I just am

 

I Am God

 

I Am isn’t envious of anybody

 

envy is shit

 

shit is not bad. that is its nature. but if I leave it

where I shouldn’t or if I process it then it feeds the life itself

 

problem is when I start eating my own shit

 

even bigger problem is if I start feeding somebody else with my shit

 

envy of mine transform into I-Am

 

I-Am feed yourself and drink from I am every being

 

when I am not only that I easily accept the fact that somebody else

is more claver, beautiful, rich or all together better but I rejoice it as well

 

I envy when I’m too passive

 

I envy when I’m lazy and when I’m loosing the faith in my work

 

I envy when I forget who and what I have given my life to

 

I envy when I get scared of death

 

I envy when I don’t sympathise with the more claver, beautiful, rich

or all together better ones and with sacrifice they are bearing in order to be that

 

I envy when I get scared of my verves

 

I envy when I forget that I’m the best

 

I envy when I forget that only God is the best and that I am God

 

I’m dedicating today’s blessings to the political

prisoners and all those who are innocently convicted

 

I’m dedicating today’s blessings to the more claver, beautiful, rich or all together better

ones because they bear other people’s envy and also because

I’m compassionate with their envy

 

I still can’t calm down... when I was finishing with taking the photo of my face at the end

of the lake one young woman approached me and took a photo of me. I thought it was

somebody who knows me. when she came to me she said in fury you took a photo of

us now I will take a photo of you. that’s for police. I was completely caught by her

and frightened. I told her to look what is in my camera. she looked at it but there

was not a single photo with her. I told her that I can imagine that she was

upset by my photo taking but that she also upset me and that it would

be nice to apologise when she saw I didn’t take a photo of her

to apologise. that’s horrible what you are doing – she said

God

 

I went through all the photos at the desk and she really wasn’t there

she and older woman who she was pushing the prom with had

an impression that I was taking a photo of them while I was

taking a photo of the paper with Vladeta Jerotic’s words

innocence of the Bud of Art

m

mu

muk

muza

muka

muzika

muka

muza

muk

mu

m

(m

moo

silence

muse

agony

music

agony

muse

silence

moo

m)

 

 

budded fruit trees are really breath taking

 

people are really annoying me – says famous Joe the dredger to the man

who stopped him. last summer I drove out three dredges to Slavija Square

and not even this much people was there. people love to suffer. silly people

 

I thought of telling You please God don’t ever leave

me. but then I felt that You neither want nor You can leave any

being. beings are leaving You and they think that You have left them

 

people are afraid of God because if they feel him they presage that God will be God

 

God within themselves

 

the smell of wild plums in the beginning of Visoka Street opens up my brain

 

... and in youth – asks young woman one very old toothless

skinny man. in youth we were defying each other...

 

a drawing of the Good Walker became damp from the sweat

so the drawing paper curled up

 

I am very tired

 

hungry

 

Achilles’ tendons and heels are over flown with strain

 

I’m stretching my loins

 

I’m clenching my jaws

 

I’m thirsty

 

I’ll open a water bottle

 

water was so pleasant

 

one cooked beetroot one potato one onion

one carrot and a bit of cabbage are waiting for me

 

Lightnin Hopkins is helping me. I’m enjoying his voice a lot

 

I’m circling with shoulders

 

I’m stretching the spine

 

vertebras are cracking

 

I’m tenderly thinking of nerves

 

I will massage my heels and Achilles’ tendons after the lunch

 

I will lie down and read Jack London’s White Fang

 

after my eyes start closing I will close the book

 

I will fall asleep like a child in armful of tiredness

 

I will get up after an hour. I’ll make myself a tea for prostate

I’ll massage my heels again and I’ll get out for a short walk

 

I will turn the Bud on. I will listen to some music. I’ll download

my blessings edited by Violeta and Ivana’s translation to English

 

I will put the blessings and photos on the web site

 

I will turn the Bud off. I will turn the TV on and I’ll draw the Numbers

 

I will go to bed around eleven-twelve and I’ll read again

 

I will turn the lights off

 

I’ll go