Bog Miroslav Mandić Bog

I hope I don’t get ill

last night it started with the nose and tonight it carried on with sweating

it’s easier now that I wrote it

beloved Elder Porphyrios never prayed for his health because he was ashamed

it’s Saturday. it’s fifteen degrees outside. it will be up to thirty

it’s first of May. Labour Day. I don’t know if the shops are opened

I’m walking in my Crocs shoes through my garden – Universe

the swallows are high. I don’t know if I manage to take a photo of them

I hear them shrieking in their fast flight

I always feel good with swallows

everybody feels good with swallows

I’m enjoying the smell of cut grass. I regret that I haven’t

lay in the grass and watched the sky more in my life

I believe that the same tone can be heard in every blessing of Miroslav Mandic

music of one tone

she gently caressed his bare shoulder and then even more gently kissed him

I just remembered that I forgot to soak the lettuce

these kind of things also happen to me – I take the calculator and pedometer

and unconsciously swop their places so in the morning I can’t find the pedometer

but enjoying while waiting for the lights to turn green

leaning on the metal post is what I do the best

or in this awareness about the uniqueness of every step that I make

uniqueness of this inhale

uniqueness of this exhale

since every inhale is already unique with every breath I take

I inhale the Universe and all beings

since every exhale is already unique with every exhale

I exhale the Love for the Universe and all beings

I’m walking peacefully after previous two blessings

I’m sorry that I didn’t take a photo of the woman who

gently touched and kissed her man’s shoulder

it’s natural to love technology – it’s written on a billboard

that advertises Technology Fair. what is repulsive in marketing

and advertising is that they are abusing all centuries old knowledge

advertising billboards are the anthology of stolen human spirit

I hope that lemon and propolis with Echinacea will help me

I’m watching Your terrace but You are not there

when in ecstasy I’m God

in tranquillity all beings

between ecstasy and tranquillity I’m You

hallo love – said the fruit selling woman who already addressed

me in such a way when she saw word love on my temple

I live for You

I am Your Miroslav Mandic take away

God I feel You within me – it’s me – a poem of all beings

beggars love in divine way

people are stealing each other’s energies in all kinds of ways

through knowledge. violence. ideologies. through playing up to somebody. getting ill

through lies. charming through sorrow. through anger. intimidation. through seduction

through promises. betrayals. through ridiculing. through motherhood. through fatherhood

most of the people are stealing energy

rare people are creating energy. even more rare are those who are giving it away

but only one is creating enough energy for everybody

all beings are in one

through all beings horror transforms into the goodness

every word is gratitude for the grace with which I say every word

through every word I shelter myself within the heart of all beings

through every word I shelter the heart of every being

harmony of contradictions

contradiction of harmony

if a poet is the shepherd of the words then a poem is his donkey

every word within his poem is his shepherd’s stick

I am a stick of writing

parks are spreading large amounts of gentleness

every time is the best time for real time

I love to take it from one spot and then circle circle circle around it

until the moment in which thinking becomes poetry

I miss you sea

I love to start from the circle and to circle circle into the

one spot until my thinking becomes poetry

an old man is pulling heavy cart up the hill

heart to heart

a dog is watching towards the open window and the man

who is coming towards him is greeting him with lifted eyebrows

wind is swinging tree branches – beings love to caress other beings

either you caress or you steel

caress me – God is constantly saying to the mankind

caress me – a man is sometimes saying to God

lift me up – a white round pebble told me

take me as well – said the other round pebble

God’s beauty created with goodness

http://antwrp.gsfc.nasa.gov/apod/ap100503.html

God’s goodness kissed by beauty

http://www.flickr.com/photos/sueskeepsakes/4577717382/

I don’t know how to connect this page with internet

so as these addresses from previous two blessings become blue

nobody and nothing save love

somebody and something kills love

sometimes one can love only if they are nobody and nothing

sometimes loneliness is the only way of kissing all beings

nobody salt – nothing bread

constantly loving love of unloved

when I see that somebody’s joy makes others unhappy I’m ashamed to rejoice

happiness you are happy only through happiness of all beings

making an effort – kissing everything

only a couple that loves each other in such way that they love everything is – love

I’m ashamed because I think badly about some people

I’m ashamed that I think about them at all instead of loving them

only wining myself

I would love to see rattans somewhere

sometimes joy isn’t anything else but being worthy of somebody’s suffering

I admire sufferers who are transforming their suffering into joy for others

I really want success and love only within all beings

for a moment I feel really ashamed from some thoughts of mine

sometimes I feel life inside of me unbearable because it annuls somebody else’s life

life wants to live. some beings cannot survive that

and that’s why they cut their lives short

this camomile helped me... here are first poppies of this year

poppies are the testimony of my great love and great love suffering. I was

twenty four. I watched them alongside the roads on my way to Germany

beauty often lies behind the ugliness

goodness often revives in a sinner

sinner atones for the sins all of those that are not aware of their sins

power kills the energy of other beings – helplessness steals the energy of other beings

I’m thinking You like-mindedness

Your suffering refined me

dedicated to Gazmen Djogani and his last night’s sufferings

I wish that after love suffering You love with all-love

don’t worry

I am the soles of all beings

I am the feet of all beings

I am the heels of all beings

I am knees of all beings

I am the bones of all beings

I am the spine of all beings

I am the pussy of all beings

I am the dick of all beings

I am the anus of all beings

I am the belly of all beings

I am the tits of all beings

I am the arms of all beings

I am the hands of all beings

I am the fingers of all beings

I am the neck of all beings

I am the face of all beings

I am the eyes of all beings

I am the lips of all beings

I am the nose of all beings

I am ears of all beings

I am the skin of all beings

I am the blood of all beings

I am the juices of all beings

I am the heart of all beings

I am the brain of all beings

I am the soul of all beings

I am the spirit of all beings

I am the unknown of all beings

I am the uncreated of all beings

I am the name of all beings

I am the humour of all beings

don’t be afraid

God is God in the heart of every word

Bogdanka Poznanovic

dedicated to Bogdanka and Dejan Poznanovic

always

dedicated to forever

forever

dedicated to always

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zsiYfk5RV_Q&feature=related

dedicated to the freedom of all beings

early morning

dedicated to the early morning

dew on the grass

dedicated to the dew on the grass

young nettle

dedicated to the young nettle

she bowed her head – a has a sore belly

dedicated to the girl with a sore belly

flute of air

dedicated to the music of air

goodness of the unexpected

dedicated to the goodness of the unexpected

soul of the machine

dedicated to the soul of the machine

forehead of the soles

dedicated to the prayer-walking

heal of the fingers

dedicated to the prayer-writing

belly-button of the bud

dedicated to the prayer-creation

silk of the mind

dedicated to the cotton of nonviolence

from the cup

dedicated to the old times

tears

dedicated to the tears

sparkles

dedicated to the sparkles

http://translate.google.com/?tab=yT - sr|en|како да напишем оно што не знамevo

dedicated to the Google Translate

now I can write in English

dedicated to the one and only – God’s – language

to be compassionate for the lack of freedom of the powerful ones

dedicated to the roses

to be compassionate for the narrow-mindedness of the clever ones

dedicated to the path

to be compassionate for those who are mocking

dedicated to the sincere ones

to be compassionate for the brown-noses

dedicated to the children’s effulgence

to be compassionate for the hoity-toities

dedicated to the innocent ones

spilled tea

dedicated to the common experiences

experience of language

dedicated to the lovers of language

a kiss

dedicated to the love workers

transiency

dedicated to the eternal transiency and eternal newness

alone

dedicated to the alone one

Miroslav Mandic

dedicated to Your Miroslav Mandic

observation

dedicated to the well-intentioned

dedication

dedicated to the oblates

tears

tear

tears are tearing

tears of tears

road of tear

tear of rose

face of tear

tear of soul

tear of mind

tears are pouring

bathe me with you tears

tear and dew

eye

tear is dewing

lip

dew is tearing

love – tell me

tear – love-kiss me

yearning for a touch

yearning for water

yearning for air

yearning for light

tear of yearning

tear

tear

tear

tear

tear

transform me with tears of orgasm

tear

I gave an oath to life with the orgasm of tears

healing through tears

richness through tears

joy through tears

tearGod

God’stear

love – God’stear

tear tears tear

I’m walking over the grass of the football stadium in Zvezdara forest

it’s soft

the smell of grass relaxes me

one fly is buzzing over my head

there is nobody around

glory glorifies glory

acacia is blooming

forest and me

love and love forever

I don’t know how to get out of here

lizard run away behind concrete staircases

I picked the acacia and I’m chewing it. it’s sweet

reminds me of first summer swims in my youth

idlers are guarding the memories of heavens

forest path is still damp from yesterday’s rain

I’m climbing slowly not to slip

I love when the earth path winds

there are cherries – they look red

greenery has grown rapidly

green greenery greens

rooster is crowing while I’m taking a photo of the path

path regenerates me – takes me into the centre

earth path soft like grass

path is filling me with joy

I’m walking slowly so as to remain longer happy

knees like soft paths. golden bug is crossing my path

silk is silking the silk

idlers are making world beautiful with their idling

idler is idling an idler

I’m thinking of house without the walls – house of infinity

flies are flying around the dead bird that fell out of the nest

I’m standing and watching the snail crossing over one little branch. I enjoy it’s

speed. it doesn’t move but it progresses. it’s trace is gleaming. I love snails – they are

teaching me to love. I will get off the grass path onto the asphalt in order not to step on

a snail

I started to translate Angelus Silesius’ The Cherub Wanderer

this morning with Google-translate

lady-bird in front of my feet

I exist so as everything else would exist

by crossing on the other side of the street when I

saw him in the distance I just acknowledged love for him

I’m sorry that he won’t read today’s blessings

those who I respect but I defer from them I don’t want to hurt with that difference

I also don’t want to hurt anybody with my shyness

nor with God

nor with Universe in which I am

nor with art that I create

nor with Bud of All Beings

nor with Miroslav Mandic

nor with Miroslav Mandic

he was in white shirt

a boy

I love him even more

I meander through the streets

invisible

old houses of poor people are being knocked down

cheep radishes in cardboard boxes

from this morning lettuce is cheaper

four young hairdressers are sitting on the steps of the shop and smoking

a boy in the white shirt is older than me

he was walking youthfully and vigorously

I wish You health and love my Young and Vigorous

without confession there is no salvation – I read today in the

book The Road into the Heavens of another boy Elder Cleopa

all hands on her

I took a photo of a doorknob on the old courtyard doors and imagined all hands that were on it

I’m walking over the edge of the stone blocks

hey

a stone of beginning

with every stone I’m on the very beginning

every stone remembers everything

universe

of

beginning

within

the

beginning

of

the

universe

you are on my tongue

what knees are to legs elbows are to arms

I’m going to look for a computer chair

I have to choose between two of them. and I don’t know how

to transport it. I’m thinking of taking it on my back

it would probably be too difficult to carry it but if I

carry it because of the blessings it would probably be easier

carrying of the chair – it would be a really nice title

hallo red roses – I say to the red roses on the fence

every day is one work of art

last night Srdjan told me that he carried his chair on his head

from the shop to his apartment. but later on his head was hurting

feat liberates but it also kills

feat cleanses but it can also make you arrogant

thin line is dividing good from bad

even thinner line joins good with good

I saw first chair on the Boulevard. now I’m going to the other one in Sindjeliceva street

I bought the second one. paid. they will bring it to me till five

no carrying. no feat

feat without feat

it’s Kaca Celan’s feat with whose money I bought the chair

every day I sit on the chair I will think of Kaca Celan

it’s nice that Srdjan for carrying the chair remains bigger hero

I love chairs and I love the art of chair

Kosuth’s chairs are for me one of the nicest art works

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_Kosuth

few days ago I asked Srdjan to take a look at chairs in the shops

since he needs it as well so he could buy them for the both of us

now I’ll suggest Srdjan to buy the first one

so that after some time we could swop

carrying of the chair made me feel excited

since I have foggy remembrance that I already did it

to carry a chair

to think the sneakers

to believe in jauntiness

I think I was carrying it through the town and taking photos of it but I remember

even more that for some time I was absorbed in thought of doing it all over the world

I’m

laying

sitting

walking

I saw Srdjan off. he went to buy a chair for himself

I’m waiting in front of the building for mine

I’m sitting on the new blue chair. I adjusted it. everything else is friendship

chair I enjoy in You – enjoy in me chair

without stimulus I typed these seven words

seven words are good and nice measure

you’ve just started and it’s already finished

horses at run

sex of thoughts

thoughts are kissing each other – you don’t think through thoughts

horse’s strength – strength of trees

ships from trees. houses from trees. tables from trees. beds from trees

jam from plums from trees

books from trees

fire from trees

everything is live

iron breathes

gravity is awake

salt an sugar are making things salty and sweet

letters in books are waiting to be read

if I was smoking I would be writing about cigarettes

I’m wearing glasses – glasses are watching

I’m walking first time second ten year walking

I’m walking around the Planet circling through the Universe

I’m sitting at the desk on the new chair

my armpits are sweating

what is the role of an armpit

the news is only what the powerful are hiding – I heard yesterday on television

conversation reveals us – I heard day before yesterday on television

I closed my eyes and I’m dosing off on the chair

I’m off to the bed for a little bit

I enjoyed it. I covered myself with the blanket. I relaxed. surrendered...

telephone woke me up – Jelena Besir

resting is very important thing – everything that exists revives me

for all His rest is work and all His work is rest – Angleus Silesius

I decided today that on question how are you from now on I will answer Thanks God

it’s warm. it will be colder for the weekend

I’ll shave myself and go on walking

it’s raining. wind is blowing. it’s Saturday

earthly paths are becoming muddy in the rain

above highways and rivers wind is stronger

I was going down Grcica Milenka street. through Vojvode Djurovica

I’m going up. afterwards I will go up again and down again and once more

down and once more up and through the forest I will get to Ban’s Hill

rain sweat and wind – I hope they don’t make me ill

wind is blowing harder through wide streets

I’m passing under the eaves of the Red Star football stadium

sweating make me healthy

I prefer to walk through the plains

I’m squeezing the water from my sleeve

wet from inside and out I’m thinking of birds while they’re flying over the ocean

I manage to get at half twelve to the petrol station

in Pozeska street on meeting with Vesna Lopicic

I might move to her empty apartment on Ban’s Hill

Ban’s Hill is better for my walking. because of the forest. lake Ada. river Sava

the most important is that I’m always poetically dwelling. in the house of infinity. in roses

I made it on time. looked at the apartment. it’s nice. I will move there on 1^st July

I was completely wet. Ivana who lives close by brought me three dry t-shirts

same way back. only now the sun is shining

I should inform my landlady Slavica Generalovic that I will move out

it’s unpleasant. I hope it doesn’t upset her too much

I’m looking forward to the change. to the forests that are around

the edge of the town is close and everything outside the city that I yearn for

I’m sitting at my computer. the rain patters against the windowpanes

I’m tired. I walked 21 kilometre

mankind is closed within itself. separated from other beings

it got dark

I’m really tired. hungry. my legs are hurting. my back

back of the head. shoulders. toes. jaws

I’m enjoying the roses

everything that exists is just one bud

Bud of All Beings

I kiss You – sing me

there was a flash of lighting – lightings are blossoming

Your sex is magnificent – it’s thundering – my sex is through magnificent

thunder stuck close by

where are the sparrows now

I love to walk through London parks full of roses

I love when everybody goes their own way

I love if A would be what she already is now even though she doesn’t know it

tell her that

I love that waterfalls feel fine in my heart

I love bread crumbs – sweetest food forever

I love pussy that liberates people from taboos and language hypocrisy

I love cock that freed itself from being cocky and waging wars

I love to witness the birth of every word in past and in present

I love to nurse constantly all beings with milk of love

I love when frontiersmen of the world identify themselves

with the middle-men of the world

I love when natives identify themselves with the immigrants

I love migratory birds who are arranging this world

I love the voice of Ruth Brown

I love everybody that sings

I love everybody who surrenders to somebody else

this

poem

caresses

my

lips

I love thinking through caressing

I love when it rains. rain is a good friend

it’s nothing. it’s just a sorrow

wind is turning the rain into the rainy dust

worms are swimming in the puddles on the asphalt

I love everything created

everything created is created with my love

everything created is love-kissed with my love

everything created is immortal through my love

I love fucking

fucking liberates all beings from fears

fucking – breathing through sense

fucking – sensible breathing

fucking – a grammar of being

fucking loves prayer

one and only skin of all beings

this

poem

kisses

my

labia

I love the tenderness of the sexes

I love the courage of singing

I love the beauty of transformation

poem sung through bow-down

empathy – understanding and entering into another's feelings

now is ancient

ancient instantaneous

instantaneous immortal

immortal now – joyful now

Universe feels good within me

I’m not only going. I’m also crying. as well as rhyming

I’m approaching Danube – it’s colder and colder

which name is the oldest in the world

flavour and experience of the name

I love free verse

thinking through freedom

acting through one and only truth

seekers of excuses live digging through more and more excuses

while I was taking photos of the roses and cherries over the fence old lady came out

from the house and asked me what are you photographing. roses and cherries – I

answered. just do it just take your photos – she smiled and got back in the house

more than art I only love art itself

more than many things I only love one thing

more than seeing one thing many times I only love to see one thing for the first time

more than creating I only love singing

more than singing I only love creating

creating and singing – screw it screw it – it’s a divine existence

swallows are flying over Danube. that’s where their lunch is served today

after three days of getting soaked with rain today I didn’t

I live for You every day

You are writing me within You every day

You are reading Yourself in me every day

I’m nothing – through blessing – I’m everything

I’m nothing – through You – I’m everything

nothing

through poem

everything

my creating is gratitude to the art that saved and created me

creation is affirmation of creation

art – saving creation

singing – creating salvation

admiration  is the only education

I was looking at the street book sellers for a year to

find it and here it is in my arms Andre Gide’s Strait is the Gate

as a first thing instead of history herstory. instead of his – her history of history

only insight that I love is an insight into yet uncreated

I love works of art created only through thinking

I love works of art created only through will

the one created through vanity falls apart on its own

vanity doesn’t love – vanity kills the vain one

when I am vanity is not

allowed and respected drug addictions are more criminal

and lethal than the forbidden and punished drug addictions

entertainment drug addiction enslaves millions

fashion drug addiction captivates millions

medical drug addiction disables millions

power drug addiction crazes millions

maternity drug addiction is the most covered up drug addiction

patriotism drug addiction kills millions

vanity drug addiction is the most lethal drug addiction

You are

Djodje Stanojevic

just now I got a phone call from unknown to me Djordje Stanojevic. it means a lot to me

he invited me to take part in the exhibition he prepares. I rejected the proposal as I

always do. but I told him that I would love if he could feel that I am in his heart

Miroslav Mandic is Djordje Stanojevic

he will visit me in the Nest with his friends – I’m looking forward. on

certain Cosmic shore I will tell them about Miroslav Mandic

I will ask them few things

come

dedicated to participants of the colony that Djordje Stanojevic will organise in time of the exhibition

let’s walk over the slopes of all-soul

sanctity of the unknown

through myself I celebrate the other

through myself I bringing up everybody

through myself I kiss everything

through myself modesty

through myself through God

through myself through You

step by step

let’s identify oursleves

through colourful fields we are walking

I saw three papers torn out of different books. I picked them up

from the ground in order to write today’s blessings out of them

what are these books. who are their authors. who torn them

she waited for them to make love again

nothing out of it

it was as it usually is

she felt used and humiliated

he was razed to the ground

he loved everything on her

he knew that love would destroy their relationship

such body nobody had

he fucked her for seventeen minutes

it wasn’t as it used to be

cunt remains cunt

shake out into somebody else

his lips clenched

she felt dirtier than if she lay with him hundred times

I would love to hear something

today is our day

he was speechless

he didn’t expect that

she aroused him so immensely that it all finished before it begun

in the other book on one page is a children’s drawing

and in the back among other thing is written

she was now sitting upright and thinking

it seems to me as if the sun is always looking for me in the water

it’s rude to cry

two street boys

looking for old nails

but it gave them pleasure

black clothes elongates and needle thought that it was even more elegant then before

there is an egg shell floating

said the darning needle

pine needles are shimmering

the one who surrenders to the other is saved

I

am

a morning

path

for

your

soft

feet

through

which

I feel

your

warm

goodness

and

beauty

how

they

spread

on

all

beings

while

birds

are singing

hymns

of jauntiness

and

flowers

are burgeoning

through eternal

harmonies

of causelessness

Art is walking for Ivan Ivanovic