Bog Miroslav Mandić Bog

I have never listened to a song for so many

times as this one which I’m constantly playing

I cannot listen to it enough

when the bass kicks in after the whistling

constant swinging

Amy’s voice which is rearing and plunging

back vocals

tenderness which is swirling

cuddliness which is plating

Jewish-Gypsy-like

ends of the same walking stick

drum road

rhythm of yearning

voice of longing

hart on the road

heart on the palm

heart in language

drum-road my beloved

invisible cannot be seen in anything as clear as in the most wonderful nobody sees

hey splendour You’re Gypsy-like

hey simplicity You’re Gypsy-like

life is a constant concert of life

life is a constant jumping into the arms of life

life is a constant transformation of selfishness into the unselfishness of the life itself

I’m moving so that there won’t be and hurting

I’m moving so that there won’t be and self-hurting

life and death are constantly intertwining in one and only life

in one and only love

we’ll meet again we’ll meet

Gypsy-like

only loving

a fly is flying through the air in the First House of All Being

drum-road Gypsy-like drum-road

through paths of beauty

drum-road

tap tap tap

dub dub dub

drum drum drum

by soles

through drumming

through roading

gypsy-like – through a poem

language is guarded by a poem

life is enriched by a poem

spirit is cherished by a poem

through poem heart is singing that everyone is important like everything

through poem mind is whispering that everyone gives their life for everything

through poem God is rejoicing to Himself

tap tap tap

dub dub dub

drum drum drum

Gypsies shouldn’t become like those others

but those others should become like Gypsies

leaves are falling

from last spring to nowadays a tree was feeding

the leaves. from now on fallen leaves will be feeding the tree

poem is the most gypsy like with Gypsies

as I’m getting older poem is being more and more important

as the Planet is getting older poem is being more and more important

poem is the other

I’m crossing the street it’s a poem

two sparrows in the grass are a poem

a man with the mobile phone in one and folded newspaper in the other hand is a poem

drum steps rhythm rose I no longer know what poem is

I love to sing through one word

through dawning

through every word

through the dawning one

a boy has close his eyes and he’s trying to walk

I also closed my eyes. lavender and rosemary are smelling

first I’ve met Robert. a year ago. I was going through

the shopping centre in Padina. we’ve met by the shop of healthy

food. he asked me to buy him something. he picked salty snacks

when I moved to Padina half a year later I was seeing him more often

and that’s how it all begun with those gorgeous God’s chiod

tap tap tap

dub dub dub

drum drum drum

Saturday. a stray dog’s day. last day of writing about Gypsies

I’m rejoicing the Saturday and the dog and wandering and writing and Gypsies

I’m rejoicing the writing about the kids which I’m meeting almost every day on the Padina

Robert Edi Ersan Sebastian Kemal Kemana Vidan Muja Jasmina…

I’m meeting them in passing while they’re begging or collecting old papers

dear Robert Edi Ersan Sebastian Kemal Kemana Vidan Mujo Jasmina…

I am a poet and my encounters with you are my poems

that’s how You Robert are my poem

that’s how You Edi are my poem

that’s how You Ersan are my poem

that’s how You Sebastian are my poem

that’s how You Kemal are my poem

that’s how You Kemana are my poem

that’s how You Vidan are my poem

that’s how You Mujo are my poem

that’s how You Jasmina are my poem

whenever I see You my heart starts trembling and singing Your poem

Robert Edi Ersan Sebastian Kemal Kemana Vidan Mujo

Jasmina… within You apart from Your heart Your poem is beating too

I wish You to live and sing it every day

I wish You to sing it in health beauty and goodness whole life

I wish You to fulfil everything God expects from You and what

he made You for exactly what You are – one and only unique in the world

Robert Edi Ersan Sebastian Kemal Kemana Vidan Mujo Jasmina…

Robert Edi Ersan Sebastian Kemal Kemana

Vidan Mujo Jasmina… rejoice every day

make one poem of Yours out of every day

I wish You to look up into the sky every day

I wish You to feel the love for earth You’re standing on every day

I wish You to feel the children delight while drinking water every day

I wish You to enjoy every bite You make

and be compassionate with those who don’t have

I wish You to feel joy in whole of Your body in each breath You take

I wish You to discover Your treasure that is hidden waiting for You

be the best healthiest and richest man in the world and show everybody

what that means to be the best healthiest and richest man in the world

Robert Edi Ersan Sebastian Kemal Kemana Vidan Mujo Jasmina…

may Your body always be clean and smell of Your soul

may Your heart always be full of love for everybody

may Your brain always be calm and simple and joyful

Robert Edi Ersan Sebastian Kemal Kemana Vidan Mujo Jasmina…

whole planet Earth with all the stars belongs to You and

therefore care for them the way I felt You care for me

Robert Edi Ersan Sebastian Kemal Kemana Vidan Mujo Jasmina…

may this poem guards You every day and may it give You the strength

throughout whole of Your life and in the end celebrate You my dear

Robert Edi Ersan Sebastian Kemal Kemana Vidan Mujo Jasmina…

this poem I will print to each of them separately

and give it to them in an envelope with a chocolate

writing is a light of presence

singing is the very light

poem

of

light

within

the

flanks

of

swinging

I’m writing so that I can always feel I’m here

only for You

i’m

singing

so

that

you

would

experience

that

i

am

you

You are my poem

singing Universe of Love

everything is good exactly the way everything is good

everything is love

a womb of the one and only love

Monday of love

just started to walk new-born

eternal art of the bud

Miroslav Mandic bud

walking creating singing

every moment everywhere and for everything love

eternal art in the poem of all beings

si

me

my

so

sing me my soul

one and only soul of all beings in each being

what

you’re

feeling

now

is

transformation

which

makes

from

you

my

poem

of all-love

sex – God’s miracle

money – God’s sanctity

God – God’s love

I don’t imply implying

nothing is cleaner than sex

nothing more unselfish than money

nothing more simple than by God

on the model in which I’m writing Miroslav Mandic every day the following is written in colour

T O   M I N E R A L S

33 blessings for Monday

T O   P L A N T S

33 blessings for Tuesday

T O   A N I M A L S

33 blessings for Wednesday

T O   S P I R I T S   O F   N A T U R E

33 blessings for Thursday

T O   P E O P L E

33 blessings for Friday

T O   H I G H E R   I N T E L L I G E N C E

33 blessings for Saturday

incomprehensible transforms

simplicity refines

I’m walking by the lake and hunting the seagulls with the camera

yesterday I wrote fly seagull fly

today I wish to write flying seagull is flying

while hunting seagulls I see how pigeons crows sparrows butterflies are flying

heart within me cheers

fly leaves fly

fly stones fly

fly loyalty fly

fly not giving up fly

fly incomprehensible fly

fly sex fly

fly money fly

fly sky fly

fly flight fly

fly Bud of Walking fly

it’s hard to take photos of flying beings

especially since I’m using the camera with a slow focus

each photo I make is some sort of a poem

I just thought of making the series of 33 photos with numbers

there is swirling behind the word swirling

I love when all knowledge is within one and only knowledge

I love when all loves are within one and only love

all

poems

in

one

and

only

poem

when all knowledge is not within one and only

knowledge that’s not the knowledge but professions

when all loves are not within one and only love that’s not love but selfishness

when all poems are not within one and only poem those are not poems but culture

I would love if all expert terminology would be replaced with the sameness

I would love if all loves would be replaced with the resurrection of all loves

I would love if all poems would live within the poem of the life itself

i’m

off

to

love

you

I looked at the grass and I felt that I love it – that I love You

when I love the grass I love You

when I love You I love the grass

I saw a paddle and I felt that I love it – that I love You

when I love a paddle I love You

when I love You I love a paddle

I’m watching and everything I’m watching I feel that I love – that I love You

when I love You I love everything

when I love everything I love You

I love grass because it’s grass

I love paddle because it’s a paddle

I love everything because it’s everything

I love You because You are I

a young man who is coming towards me has bent down

and lifted a dinar. you’ll be rich – I told him. I recently started

doing this. until now I wasn’t picking it up – he responded

today is Nadezhda Tolokonnikova’s birthday

I love You Nadezhda

freedom like the hurricane Sandy is conceived

in one moment at one place during one event

freedom is already conceived in Nadezhda’s heart

freedom breaks all the shackles

hurricane is rushing towards in which all suppressed rushing towards is breaking free

freedom is conceived in the heart of Julian Assange

even though Julian Assange is also imprisoned

I love You Julian

freedom is joy

whenever I feel freedom I’m setting myself free and I’m liberating

within freedom I love-kiss You is love which liberates You

I’m bathing You with tears my Gypsy

beauty on personal struggle for freedom is the same beauty as in sexual surrendering

path only path

my sensitivity is greater and greater

solitude more and more loyal

solitude is a refuge to the loyal and identical ones

blessings are nakedness

even when I don’t say a thing words are saying everything

and if I’m silent about something being silent about sings me

here the face of this old woman I could have been silent about

following blessing is beautiful

…the essence of the Tractatus is ethical… my work consists of two parts: one

which is set out here and everything else that I haven’t written down. and actually

that other part is important…

Ludwig Wittgenstein

I’m slowly going down the Boulevard to heal myself from Your injuries

cold sunny day. autumn colours of plane trees are enchanting me

this craw has reminded me of the craw from few days

ago who hid a walnut in the grass and covered it with leaves

I’m releasing the injuries and surrendering myself to the street

street is a miracle. festival of body and face. festival of hope and despair

I’m smiling to the street

I’m enjoying and I already can thank You for injuries

I’m enjoying that such book as Tractatus exists

have I ever written the word veering

the glow of old cobble under the asphalt shines like a poem

sun is warming my cold nostrils

I’m half way through. I’m tired. I’ll go slowly by the river Sava

I’ll call goodness to join me

I remember how on the Rose of Wandering when

I was exhausted I used to surrender to the tiredness and it carried me

diamantes melt away in front of tiredness goodness and love

I’m tenderly thinking of millions upon millions of people who did hard physical labour

in order to be worthy of those people I myself am mining 86400 Moments each day

in order to thank all those poets of work I’m singing them every day 86400 poems

I’m thinking of all different ways through which

people have been liberating others of hard and slavery work

one of the best ways is silence

I was never doing what people were expecting me

to do but on the other hand I was doing cities. doing love

doing insouciance doing unreasonableness. doing sameness. doing smile…

after so many ways of doing everything came down to walking creating and singing

and walking creating and singing to one and only poem which sings everything

I love-kiss You Gypsy

today is the Day of All Beings

Velimir Khlebnikov’s birthday

the day I went to prison forty years ago

the day I started the Rose of Wandering twenty one years ago

I’m listening to the black mother fucker mister Andre Williams

as soon as possible outside

on the road of forty years that are gone by

forty years of making a poem from life

forty years of making a life from poem

outside for hugging through walking

walking is fucking with everything that is

surrounding me and everything is surrounding me

everything begun with some sort of death that I experienced in jail and

with rebirth which vegetarianism nonviolence and all other decisions I made

in jail brought to me. decisions that were protecting and leading me through life

it carried on with love pain which has always reminding me to be worthy of love

and then the first step on the great road of the

invisible and patience in the visible on the great road

ten years of dying of my I brought me to the spring and revelation of the I of the very I

with the decision about walking I took upon myself

everything that all people do for several thousand years

with the prayer started oncoming to God and transformation into God

the Rose of Wandering has lead me into the heart

of the Universe and universe of the heart of all beings

Your constant presence all these forty years even though You are not yet around

an earring of the one and only and one and only love in the left ear

with Miroslav Mandic book identification of everything

with everything and everyone with everyone has started

with innocence of solitude I’ve discovered solitude in offspring of all beings

I love-kiss you runaway children

a temple of love in the tattooed word love on my right temple

I’m a mother a father a sister a brother a daughter a son to all beings

Bud

God

getting old

and after forty years here I am in the beauty of this sentence

for all these years I couldn’t have been a man if I lived like people

I wouldn’t have been a man also if I carried on being a man and not God as well

now

i’m

god

now that I am God You are God as well and everything is God

God is God

one

god

one

poem

one

bud

last night I was listening to John Coltrane

what a splendour listening to John Coltrane

God

God

blues

God

jazz

God

rock

God

hip-hop

God

electro

God

God

boulevard of music

as soon as possible outside to the Boulevard into the music of walking

9.58am

I at the Cvetko’s Market. from now on I’m going down the Boulevard

Saturday stray dog is wagging his tail love-kissing all beings

I’m thinking God and I’m thinking of a worm in the ground

who is feeling fine and I feel how that makes me feel fine as well

not believing in God but being God

not believing You’re love-kissing me but being love-kissing

I love-kiss all of those who believed and hoped

and love-kissed God so that I would also be God

God worm

I’m tenderly looking at everything I’m passing by and I feel that tender look is God

look tenderly over things and You will feel that it is God looking

it’s wonderful when I’m singing to God but it’s even more so when I’m singing God

walking makes me a man

creating an angel

poem God

sun is warming my back and both a stray dog and me are warm

on this corner my Gypsy beggar Ruzica was begging

now coffee papers and pleasure – says one older woman to another

in this kiosk by the Djeram Market is the best rye bread in the city

there is a big line on the street in front of the

post office because the pension money is being distributed

a trumpet player is sitting on the street and begging through sad melodies

a man behind me is constantly talking to himself

while going down the Balkanska street I’m thinking

weather to go through the Savska or Sarajevska street

Sarajevska is tamer so I’ll go through it. I lifted up the collar

and a smile appeared on my face and that would be it for this Saturday

I’m reading again the Narrations of a God Seeker

grace

music above music

goodness of God makes God out of anybody and anything

flickering everything flickers

God flickers God in each being

I’m watching the pigeons jigging the grass and I feel flickering of God within them

I’m watching the leaves of a plane tree and I feel trembling of God within it

I’m watching the yellow leaves of a walnut tree and I feel trembling of God within it

within whatever God is it is God

the writer of the Narrations is anonymous

I adore anonymous ones

Miroslav Mandic is a glory of all anonymous ones

through the name Miroslav Mandic I’m cleansing

myself from Miroslav Mandic and I’m becoming the name of God

everyone’s name celebrates nameless ones

namelessness serves the name

name celebrates namelessness

my beloved god-love-kisser and god-seeker I love-kiss You

You are the light within things

everything is shining and everyone is shining

I’m going

You’re singing

me

hey hey hey

every

word

is

poem

of light

within

any

other

thing

11.38 am

I came with a city bus to the end of Sremcica

I’ve never been to Sremcica

it feels good to be where I’ve never been

I’m happy because I’m somewhere

a tear is falling down my face

I’m rejoicing the road in front of me

from so many impressions not a single word is coming to me

when words are not saying anything then they are pointing out everything

it’s colder and colder and that is also wonderful

wavy hills on the edge of Sremcica are

disappearing in the fog which joined with the greyness of the sky

while You are reading this I’m walking by the street called Reader’s

in Sremcica I’m thinking of You Nadezhda Julian and god-seeker

from all of these impressions in Sremcica I could write

a huge book but instead of all of these words only two it’s raining

in two-three hundred years there won’t be even a trace of all of this

everything will turn into goodness and beauty of invisible and unspeakable

how happy I am not having a house

how happy I am to socialise with this rain

how happy I am that these words are singing me

I’m walking – embrace

I’m creating – love-kiss

I’m singing – fuck You

on the left side of the road there are no houses any

more so the wind is stronger and it pours slight rain on me

I’m getting out of the Sremcica

I went through Sremcica in 7645 steps in sixty seven minutes

alone on the road

being on the road means being in sex of the very life

in the sex of all beings who are intertwining and whirling above the road

being on the road is the wedding of enthusiasm and tranquillity

being on the road is the embrace with faith hope and love

I’m in Zeleznik

fuck how good is in Zeleznik as well

from Zeleznik I’m turning into the Obbrenovac road

I am the constant God’s glory

cars are speeding. nobody wants to stop. it’s really wonderful

I never liked to draw attention to myself but on the Second Walking

for Poetry I discovered and started to love both attention and carefulness

(in Serbian attention and carefulness are similar words: “pažnja” & “pažljivost”, T.N.)

walking draws attention

through attention everything is becoming carefulness

attention is mild

carefulness dear

God is walking

walking is God

every day is a victory of every day

anything is a victory of anything

everything that is wins through the fact that it is

I don’t believe in existing model of the world

existing models of the world are closest to the world but because

of their wide expectance they are also farthest from what the world is

I am the world

word world

words of the world

holly poem of the word

(in Serbian “holly” and “world” used in this way are the same: “sveta”, T. N.)

God is art

art is God

the language which I’m speaking all beings are speaking

the language in which I’m singing all beings are singing

the language through which I am all beings are

the language with which I’m walking all beings are walking

the language through which I’m love-kissing all beings are love-kissing

the language of the first time first spoken word

the language of the first time every spoken word

the language through which myriad times

repeated word I’m using as if I’m saying it for the first time

melodising

melody of the language is in the oath to the first word

melody of the language is in the first time spoken word melody

innocence of an oath protects the innocence of the language

human languages divide

language unites

God is poem

poem is God

I’m on the Ostruznica levee

it’s completely covered with grass

nobody is walking over it so there is no path

I’m enjoying the beauty of its body which I can see in its mild bend

when I was a child I was watching how one levee was made

hundreds of horses and hundreds of workers were working from dusk till dawn

peasants were working on the ground and workers with soil

soil is wondrous

it gives birth

channels are done in the soil. levees are done from the soil

elementally

I’m under the influence of elemental and I’m in the element

walker

singer

rhythm of all beings

I live what I live

I sing what I sing

late autumn vermillion salutes winter snow whiteness

earth is heavens

life on the earth is heavenly

people make atrocities to each other and to

other beings and they make hell out of the earthly heavens

this morning as well I was reading about atrocities one nation does to the other nation

I never say the names when hatred is in question so that hatred wouldn’t spread

greatest evils are done in the name of family nation and God

greatest killer is the feeling that You are right

committing the crimes in somebody’s name is selfishness

and stupidity greater than any other selfishness and stupidity

biggest lie of them all

even though I am sad because of those everyday

crimes and atrocities the joy of the very life is invigorating me

while gardening with my steps through this levee heavens

I hope that this garden will bare more and more heavenly fruits

heavenly compassion of all beings towards one another

heavenly love of the powerful ones towards the powerless ones

heavenly freedom of the powerful ones within the powerless ones

heavenly elementally

I live what I sing

I sing what I live

let’s

let’s go

we are one

sure we are

only ones

everybody

melody and harmony are one

all rhythms are one

you excite me

you excite me as well

I fuck Your heart

it’s yours

with irony man defends himself from his own weaknesses

with wittiness man hides his imperial and colonial crimes

I’m crying

I’m also crying

sweet is agreeing

as sweet as it can be

agreeing is the road

rose on the road

president of the world Julian Assange

holly bird of the world Nadezhda Tolokonnikova

again I feel like crying from beauty

and me from goodness

everything is so simple

and innocent

all boys are mother-fuckers

all girls are fucked mothers

swearwords are mine…

…my lullabies

everything I say You already thought of

everything that you say creates me

Bud

is budding

I thought of writing in next ten or so meters 33 blessings from what I see

while I was writing them I felt within myself unreal beauty in that simple reality

ripped off little branch on the big surface of concrete

I will write slowly through these five kilometres with which today’s walking finishes

goodness is sometimes nothing more than the very solitude

what is here everything is

nobody sees that I am God

for the very same reason I should see that myself

You

god

is

a

courage

to

see

that

i

am

god

in anybody’s warm tears

I slowed down and I’m enjoying more and

more in tiredness that is mildly overwhelming me

not only that tiredness is overwhelming me but the

beauty of the word overwhelming is overwhelming me as well

overwhelm me overwhelming overwhelm

wonderful is the encounter with words

I’m writing and suddenly I’m meeting the word suddenly

once and suddenly

for one and suddenly yearns my soul

I’m in the arms of a runaway child

in the arms of all particles in tranquillity

birds particles

whoever You are I feel more and more Your love

I just wanted to write say anything before

I turn off on you when my voice recorder turned off

after the splendour of the very writing writing aids are also splendid in writing

tools

stiles

pen and paper. graphite and pencil. typewriter and computer. voice recorder

even though I’m against weapons and against instruments I admit I love some tools

tools for writing. tools for listening music. tools for fucking

all of a sudden I got excited with the female one who

guards the male one that is guarding all beings within himself

happiness of solitude is in the very happiness

whoever wants can drink from this blessing

whoever wants can feed from this blessing

whoever wants can find a bed and love in this blessing

whoever wants can get wedded and find a home in this blessing

not even a sun ray wants to shine without you

I’m listening to Ljiljana Petrovic Batler

I’m listening to Miklós Sebő

I’m listening to Portishead

during the Walkings for Poetry I was singing

Gloomy Sunday in unknown places during gloomy Sundays

I’m listening to her

I’ve listened to her many times

Billie Holiday

Billie Holiday is Billie Holiday is Billie Holiday

sorrow sings marvellously

suicide attracts marvellously

marvellously day is crumbling

I crumble into crumbles

I’m a stranger above all strangers

small slights alienate, small courtesies integrate

Timothy Garton Ash

only love for all beings is worthy of love

it’s very hard for me to write and that’s very beautiful

it crumbles

looks like my subwoofer is breaking and that’s what makes me sad

I love to listen to music with strong basses

strong basses are like heavy sacks

slave liberation

grapes are gone

I’m listening again how Ljiljana is singing

whole of her body is in her throat

she embraces with the throat of sorrow

flowers are in her mouth

everything is in vain but only in vain is singing

sometimes only epidemics of suicides are not in vain

multitude of whales stranded on the shore

why

sometimes only child suicides are preventing and redeeming horrible wars of grownups

grownups stop the wars your children will kill themselves

hey Miroslav

yesterday evening I bought a new subwoofer since the old one got broke

basses are even deeper

heart beats

sacks sacks

beat brother beat

beat only beat

beat of all-peace-universe

beat of all-myth

beat of all-beat

beat of being

words beat

music beat

they are one beat

beat of the one and only mind in all minds

beat in all beats

beat in all bulls

(beat and bull are similar words in Serbian: bit & bik)

steps steps steps

beat of a moment

beat of eternity

beat of a fly

beat of an elephant

beat of goodness

beat of beauty

beat of road

beat of rose

beat of sweat

beat tears

beat of God

beat

god

three words beat

two words

one

bud

I’m alone so that I wouldn’t be alone

I’m alone for everyone

I’m alone so that a beloved other one wouldn’t separate me from a third one

I’m alone so that a beloved third one wouldn’t separate me from one and only I

I’m alone so that beloved I wouldn’t separate me from God

I’m alone so that the beloved family wouldn’t

separate me from one and only family of all beings

I’m alone so that the beloved nation wouldn’t separate me from all nations

I’m alone so that a beloved man wouldn’t separate

me from minerals plants animals and higher beings

I’m alone too much to be alone – I’m with all beings

I’m alone too much to be alone – I’m with everyone

I’m alone too much to be alone – I’m happy with everybody

I’m going only to the market to buy bread and chrysanthemums for Slava

the rest of today’s ten kilometres I hope will walk several from twenty or so visitors of my site

I bought three big white chrysanthemums

they smell of snow

in my childhood for St. Archangel Michael’s Day almost every year would snow

the smell of chrysanthemums apples and pure children’s souls

and no one will ever know that in the letter is you only you my love

and I’ll be watching in the distance and searching the silence more and more

the fact that you are here in my bed without any clothes on

from Banat all the way to Srem clouds are low

fuck me Slava

I’m Yours God’s glory

I would love to read again a collection of Serbian swearwords Red Bank

swearwords are prayers of innocent ones

beggars’ love is gratitude and love of God

cling on and curl up with me

all beings – we are one

nobody is less alone then me

I’m off to the other table. that’s where are waiting for me

wheat. candle. bread. wine. chrysanthemums

bigheartedness of the rejected ones and generosity of the imprisoned ones

beloved Nadezhda and Julian and myriad anonymous one in jails

and all beings at one and only table of the one and only family

in one and only cosmic Slava – Slava of all beings in each being

Cosmos for me is – everything and piece – Universe of everything visible and invisible

I am the Universe of everything visible and invisible

there is a vast field of visible which is still invisible

only invisible can never be visible

actually that invisible with visible and still undiscovered visible makes me the Universe

not what is still incomprehensible in comprehensible

but the very incomprehensible which is forever incomprehensible

not what is still inexpressible in expressible

but the very inexpressible which is forever inexpressible

couple of days ago Srdjan Valjarevic brought me Wittgenstein’s Tractatus

I was very excited

I thought to myself it is the most beautiful book of the twentieth century

turfs

barefoot toe sores

skinned elbows

squeezed out ulcers

cuts

disturbing salvaging

wasteland liberates

road and rose are then in virginal fervour

innocence redeems everything

cling to me cling

curl up curl up

meander

You’re within me

i’m

within

you

tomorrow I’ll begin the work While… it will be hundred and thirty two plainest photos

photos of Your sex and Your immortality

while You are doing anything during the day You will be able to live my love

while You’re sleeping

while You’re licking Your lips

while You’re calming Your heart

while You’re writing the sentence which You’re taking the photo of

I’m in a jiff

powerlessness permeates me with love

it will be a road of hundred and thirty two photos

every day through the winter until the spring

while sleeping You can feel my love for You is the first

out of hundred and thirty two photos of the work I’m calling While…

I’ll be putting them every day on the Bud link of the website miroslavmandic.name

last one I will put on April 25^th 2013

it will be a story about the source of holly

everyday from which You can drink love every day

while feeling not loved You can feel that I love You

while rejoicing You can feel that I love You

while doing and being anything You can feel that I love You

I’m walking down the side rail tracks in Bele Vode

many people who lived in last hundred and fifty years

feel nostalgic about trains platforms railway stations

people who lived two hundred years ago didn’t feel

nostalgic about trains because there was no trains at that time

they also didn’t exist three hundred years ago when

Spinoza in 1677 in his Tractatus politicus defined four ways of enslaving a man

put him in chains

take his weapons and possibility to defend

paralyse him by fear

give him plenty material goods

a flock of sparrows on the branches of not picked rosehip

six pigeons are squatting on the electric wires

workers are demolishing what they previously built so that they can build again

vine leaves are withering

oak leaves are yellow like yellow-brown pears

I remember how last summer I was taking photos of grass on this road

I made 33 photos of grass

33 photos of leaves

hundred and thirty two While… photos are four series of 33 photos

winter dream in the den of love

in that den I will be reminding You that somebody always loves You

I love this mudslide on Bele Vode

I saw rocks and felt aliens live in rocks

everything is so close

world is created now

while I was going through Bele Vode I was sad

while getting out of Bele Vode I’m joyful

on the edge of Julino Brdo ten waste containers are placed like ten crows keepers

I’m tenderly thinking of Spinoza

some people are the Universe

tender like a breast

brave like milk