Bog Miroslav Mandić Bog

poem
the poem of one name
the name of a man
the name of god
the name of a poem
i wrote it i sang it
from january 6th 2005 to july 24th 2017
i sang it every day except sunday
33 poems a day
i call them blessings
198 blessings per week
129600 blessings for twelve and a half years
129600 (360×360) blessings have formed a ball book
universe
universe of poem
each day is marked with day number and date of singing
first three books have been published
fourth and fifth book are in my computer
last eight books are on the website
i hope that everything will soon be together on the website

    You
    are

    298244

    bud

    THESE ARE THE WORDS THAT ARE HEARING AND LISTENING EVERYTHING THAT IS BOTHERING AND HURTING YOU

    1851. day
    25th January 2010

    who kisses never dies

     

    who kisses resurrects those who are not kissing

     

    who kisses resurrects the kissing

     

    I am loyal to Your love

     

    I am everywhere

     

    just don’t ever tell me that I’m not the Universe

     

    I kiss the abstraction although it has been misused

     

    I kiss figurative although it has been misused

     

    I kiss donkey’s ears

     

    I am the money of all-soul

     

    I am the Scotsman in Serbia

     

    I am everyone who is somewhere and somewhere that is in somebody

     

    I am sentimental Miroslav in glory of sentimental Johnny

     

    it’s sunny but it’s very cold. the leftover snow sparkles

     

    I’m walking for the first time in new Kronos sneakers

     

    beauty in front of me gives me the strength

     

    all my attention goes to protecting myself from the cold

     

    only all beings love and guard every being

     

    I’m kissing you all beings

     

    I wink at all keys

     

    bell is ringing. take me. I’m watching the ground. I gather myself within the goodness and I’m having a nap

     

    for a while now a fat cyst on my back is hurting me a bit

     

    I noticed it for the first time in Timisoara in the beginning of the second year of the Rose of Wandering 

     

    the back is ever so lonely

     

    neglected. unwatched. unloved

     

    misery gathers on the back 

    twenty years ago Ljuba Gligorijevic told me

     

    cherish my back

     

    make from my back Garden of Love of All Beings 

     

    I picked up this white pebble to be in the centre of the Garden of Love of All Beings 

     

    I’m also walking so as everybody can speak to me about is bothering and hurting them

     

    speak out yourself and you will feel better and it will slowly go away

     

    today I was attacked three times by dogs because they heard the ringing of my bell

     

    I am the gratitude itself – I’m in a warm room

     

     

     

    A BUD OF WALKING WITHOUT WALKING

    1852. day
    26th January 2010

    yesterday I caught a cold. I felt it whilst I was walking

     

    I wonder what to do. should I go walking or not

     

    how to know what is good

     

    what should I do to close the circle of walking around Earth on 31st December 2019

     

    for last few years I am more frail

     

    if I don’t walk how to make up the kilometres

     

    I will be walking in the evening and on Sundays

     

    I don’t like when I’m ill

     

    I feel guilty like every boy

     

    boy don’t feel guilty

    I say to every boy

     

    accept guilt like a man and transform it into the deeds of love

     

    live life in the joy of life

     

    celebrate life since life has been given to You

     

    I decide that I won’t be walking today

     

    I will only go to the shop and pharmacy

     

    two margarines 79,80 din

    homemade noodles 42,50 din

    vegetable additive for cooking 48,90 din

    vegetable stock cube 65,80 din

    red onions 25,72 din

    potatoes 22,64 din

    carrots 24,24 din

    apples 36,53 din

    two hot paprikas 49,98 din

    two rye melba toast 61,80 din

    mineral water Heba 36,90 din

    mineral water Jamnica 43,90 din

    paper napkins 81,90 din

    toilet paper 59,90 din

    tooth paste 57,90 din

    three children soaps Becutan 134,70 din

    three times 150 grams of olives 185,00 din

    six sachets of Fervexa 180,00 din

    two bars of vitamin C 45,00 din

     

    kiss from a Glacier Bud

    an e-mail waited for me when I came back in the Nest

     

    a man regenerates a man

     

    this is a photo of my face while I’m writing this blessing

     

    I’ll go to make myself a soup and sleep for a bit

     

    I was sleeping and I still feel sleepy

     

    in one moment I felt like a baby and that was healing

     

    I just got this

    http://media.sas.upenn.edu/pennsound/authors/Stein/1935/Stein-Gertrude_If-I-Told-Him.mp3

    and Miroslav enjoy – Art

     

    I enjoyed

     

    love never ends

     

    I became lively for a moment

     

    and immediately lost strength

     

    my arms are weak

     

    my fingers start caressing my palms on their own

     

    I’m thinking on grinded lemon with sugar or honey

     

    I use toilet paper for my nose that is constantly runny

     

    how just kisses feel cold

     

    wolf

    boy

    rejoice

     

     

    WITHOUT STRENGTH

    1853. day
    27th January 2010

    I had a runny nose the whole night

     

    at the moment I’m just staring at the screen and playing with cursor

     

    I don’t have what to write but I know I will write 33 blessings

     

    I’m waiting for the sea waves to come to me

     

    it’s only when I lose strength do I notice that I don’t have it

     

    when it’s here I don’t feel it

     

    it’s snowing

     

    there is no wind

     

    snowflakes are slowly falling

     

    I never saw the snow falling on the sea but I love that image

     

    as well as the branches which bend under the snow that fell

     

    I’m drinking warm tea

     

    warmth in my lungs is pleasant

     

    I rarely saw the deep blue colour of the sea

     

    ear throat and nose are very connected

     

    I’m listening to wonderful music on the computer

     

    I should draw the Blue Rose and record the Blue Film while I’m drawing it

     

    I should draw 64 Buds

     

    here is Billie Holiday. she is magnificent. all shades of blue are in her voice

     

    I really love You my Billie Holiday

     

    it’s beautiful with artists that they love me and surrender to me completely

     

    they are loyal to me and they never betray me

     

    I have learned loyalty from creators and creativity

     

    I write loyally

     

    writing is like walking

     

    it moves away

     

    feet like words are leaving traces

     

    ground is constant palimpsest of traces of life

     

    again and again one on top of another

     

    sweat bedews my forehead

     

    enjoy your strength

     

    enjoy loyally

     

     

     

    WOMAN HERO – WALKING OF JELENA BESIR

    1854. day
    28th January 2010

    Jelena Besir phoned me yesterday to suggest that she walks instead of me today

      

    at first I said no but then I accepted 

      

    I wanted after a while to suggest 

    to people to walk sometimes instead of me

     

    I have always been doing it. letting others do something

     

    that is an exercise in trust and identifying

     

    I didn’t want to do it now since I wanted

    to make some rules by which people would be doing it

     

    now I am lagging behind 39 kilometres

     

    last night I watched dog races in Alaska on TV. sixteen dogs are

    pulling the slays and a man on them. the race lasts for ten days and is exhausting

     

    I’m sweating. yesterday I felt worse than first day

     

    today I got up feeling shattered

     

    I’m all confused. even routine things are slipping away from me

     

    in moments of clarity I cheer myself

     

    footballers are training in the snow and coldness

     

    some dogs would be too exhausted to continue the race

     

    one had a painful ankle of the left front paw

     

    you could see in their eyes fear of death and hope for life

     

    I made myself a second cup of tea. put on my sweat shirt

    with the hood. it’s my job to cure myself

     

    yesterday I cooked potatoes and made puree with margarine. there is something

    simple in potatoes what is healing. that simplicity itself is healing

     

    like Gertrude Stein’s texts

     

    writing is creating of beauty

     

    sweat is starting to drip

     

    I’m deciding not to shave today either

     

    would it be good if I take a shower

     

    yesterday I remembered several times how

    in childhood my mother used to put warm compresses on me

     

    life is a huge race for life

     

    do bees race as well

     

    I’m starting. here comes the sun. I’ll give you a call from the half

    Jelena sent me a text message at 10:39

     

    I’m thinking of big turtles

     

    I’m watching the footballers running on the snow and I smile

     

    I wink at Jelena who is walking for all beings instead of me

     

    it’s warmer in the city. the city warms up. everything is truthful

    Jelena at 12:02

    conscience permeates everything. everything is visible. the city is warmer but also more dense

    people are here and we should be careful with them not to bump into them. it’s truthful again

    Jelena at 12:31

    while I’m writing this message I can see on my hands that I’m cold

    body is warm. walking is warming up. it’s only important to walk

    Jelena at 13:31

    I have crossed over beautiful green tram bridge. first time I crossed it with

    you. now on my own. I see that everybody is doing their job. now slowly... a bit more

    Jelena at 13:56

    here I am near my working place. I don’t feel like getting into the bus. step by step I feel that I have finished planetary walking

    I’m getting into the ordinary one. when I sit down I will write the final message

    Jelena at 14:32

     

    it’s a heaven for butt cheeks and legs when you sit after the walking

    Jelena at 15:37

     

    I was enjoying in Jelena and Jelena’s walking

     

     

     

    WATCH-OVER-WOMAN-SINGER WALKING OF IVANA DJOKIC-SAUNDERSON

    1855. day
    29th January 2010

    yesterday I was better and from this morning even better

      

    I start thinking how beautiful it is to go outside 

      

    but I’m staying at home for next few days

     

    Dear Miroslav, as much it made me sad that you are still ill, that much I was rejoiced and happy by Jelena’s walking! Wonderful! If nobody else would, if you wouldn’t go, and you shouldn’t, and if it means something to you, tomorrow I could also contribute to the 39 km you couldn’t do through illness! I would go to Ada and back and walk the circle around the lake which is even a bit more than 13 km!

    Last night Ivana Djokic-Saunderson sent me an e-mail

     

    it means a lot to me

     

    while I was drawing the blue rose I was saying aloud hello-healthy healing

     

    it’s nice that the word healthy also means greeting hello

    (in Serbian word zdravo means both healthy and hello)

     

    healthy-hello health

     

    when I was playing football we were greeting the audience

    in the beginning of the game with hey, hey, hey

    (healthy-hello, healthy-hello, healthy-hello)

     

    to greet somebody means to be healthy

     

    it’s wonderful that somebody else can at least take your place a bit

    Sun sent me a text message at 09:56

     

    Bud Walking is watching over

     

    to watch over is to love

     

    loving endlessly – watching over constantly

     

    watching over – guarding buds

     

    if there weren’t those who are watching over human life would be extinguished

     

    I’m watching over – I am

     

    I am a watch-over

     

    I am blossomer

     

    I am a provider of words

     

    I love those words that are ending with er

     

    er beat-essence

     

    rhythm and essence

     

    I am a rhythmer

     

    I am a beat-essencer

     

    oh I am oher as well

     

    pather and roser

     

    liveer

     

    live – life doesn’t die

     

    I going on walking, on circling, on watching over

    the Planet. wonderful sunshine, snow, me and You. kiss

    Ivana at 13:36

     

    enjoy alive enjoy

    I sent a text message to Ivana at 13:37

     

    it’s warm. I already unbuttoned myself and I’m waiting to cross the second half

    of the street. I crossed it. I’m near Ada, with things well arranged in my pockets

    Ivana at 14:01

    Ada is so beautiful in the winter, and in this new light…

    I’m breathless. birds are walking over the icy surface of the lake

    gray-haired man with naked torso is exercising. cats are playing in the snow

    Ivana at 14:17

    a minute ago, two women out of the blue stopped in front of me and started

    to hug each other friendly while loudly laughing. I’m approaching the half way

    stage of the lake while I go around them. it’s alive. it’s beautiful. I kiss you

    Ivana at 14:43

    not until now, when it is becoming a bit hard, with mild pain in right foot and

    left hip, have I felt the humbleness that is giving me the strength. 4-5 km to go

    Ivana at 15:19

    a circle around Ada finished. last 3 km

    in front of me. this was a circle within circling…

    Ivana at 16:15

    this first out of I hope first 33 Buds of Walking, caressing of the Planet

    is coming to an end. Thank You Miroslav! … I’m entering my building

    Ivana at 16:15

     

    I suggested to Ivana and now to all beings to make 33 Bud Walkings

     

     

    BELGRADER-SCOTSMAN – WALKING OF ALLY SAUNDERSON

    1856. day
    30th January 2010

    I am a ground

     

    a strength of these words

     

    nobody was here until now

     

    the Bud of All Beings is sprouting here

     

    I am awake dreamer

     

    I am a founder of the Spiritual Inheritance of All Beings

     

    wow it’s so beautiful

     

    wow it’s so good

     

    wow

    it’s

    so

    obvious

    that

    God

    is

    writing

    these

    words

     

    … Ally must have liked my red cheeks when

    I came back, so he said that tomorrow he will be walking for you and also in his

    Scottish (ghille) shirt and socks:-)), in order to take a part of Scotland for you!:-)

    Also Bojan signed up for Sunday, but I told him that you might give him some

    instructions and Ally and me told him shortly what you are doing and how…

    Ivana wrote me in her e-mail last night

     

    I am the wings of all steps

     

    the way I live is the way I sing

     

    I’m kissing still unborn

     

    I’m creating still uncreated

     

    I am a touch to every skin

     

    I am a childhood to all young

     

    to tell everything and not hurting anybody

     

    I am a sharp knife of poetry that celebrates everybody

     

    I am a broken knife of a story that encourages everything

     

    singing everything kissing everything

     

    everything

    sings

    everything

     

    all beings make everything

     

    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 are the eyes of the hen which is laying an egg

     

    Bud of All Beings is all within me that I have been given by a worm

     

    Bud of All Beings is one and only wedding

     

    Bud of All Beings are Your 33 Bud Walkings

    Bud of All Beings are Your 2nd time 33 Bud Walkings

    Bud of All Beings are Your 3rd time 33 Bud Walkings

     

    Ally has just left on his walking and he asked me to translate his messages to you

    Ivana told me at 15:42

    My journey for MM has brought me to Ada. It’s empty apart from two girls

    running. It is peaceful. It reminds me of the open spaces of Scotland.

    Ally wrote to Ivana at 16:02

    As I pass the Sunset kafana I can see the sun setting at the bottom of Ada

    It has turned the clouds a beautiful shade of pink. It makes me walk slower

    Ally at 16:23

    As the sun sinks lower in the sky it is changing the shape

    and colour of the clouds. The sky is now bright and the clouds

    resemble my favourite place in Scotland. The place is called Glencoe

    Ally at 16:35

    As I stop to watch the sun finally set I will tell you about Glencoe

    Ally at 16:45

    Glencoe is a part of the oldest mountain range in the world

    Ally at 16:46

    For me Glencoe is the one place where I truly feel Scottish. When I enter

    I always stop at the side of the road and get out of the car. The reason

     I do this is that I connect with all the history that has happened there

    Ally at 16:52

    This makes me feel sad but it is a good sadness. It makes

     you feel alive. Then when I start to look at the mountains with their

    carpet of beautiful purple heather and lush green grass reaching to the

    sky I realise how lucky we are to live on this planet called Earth

    Ally at 17:01

    I am stopping for five minutes as my hips are hurting so I will tell you where my

     sadness in Glencoe comes from. I get the feeling that the mountains are speaking

    to me, telling me of all the bad things that have happened over the centuries there

    Ally at 17:13

    Six pm. Finished Ada. Hips still hurting which I think

    is through sitting at computer all week Bad computer

    Ally at 17:55

    Miroslav, when I started this walk I was looking for a way to share with you

    something about Scotland, but could not find the way and I now realise that God

    showed the way through giving me such a beautiful sunset. Thank you God

    Ally at 18:00

    Well Miroslav, I have now completed the circle

    Thank you for letting me help you. Cheers. Ally

    Ally at 18:33

     

    I wink at Ally and beauty of Mahabharata that I'm reading with pleasure

    WALKING OF BOJAN KOSTIC

    1858. day
    1st February 2010

    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

    1859. day
    2nd February 2010

    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

    1860. day
    3rd February 2010

    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

    1861. day
    4th February 2010

    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

    1862. day
    5th February 2010

    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

    1863. day
    6th February 2010

    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

    1865. day
    8th February 2010

    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

    1866. day
    9th February 2010

    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

    1867. day
    10th February 2010

    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

    1868. day
    11th February 2010

    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

    1869. day
    12th February 2010

    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

    1870. day
    13th February 2010

    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

    1870. day
    13th February 2010

    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

    1872. day
    15th February 2010

    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

     

     

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