Bog Miroslav Mandić Bog

I LOVE YOU

 

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.      .

.      .      .

.      .      .      .

 

music

 

music of goodness

 

immortal goodness of beauty

 

beauty of immortal singing to beauty

 

everything I write is music

 

number

 

ten

 

one

 

I

 

and

 

You

 

three

 

of the eternal

 

love

 

in

 

immortality

 

of all

 

beings

 

everything I write is a poem

 

one

 

only

 

poem

 

of one

 

and only

 

poet

 

God’s

 

herald

 

four words sing world

 

three deliver it

 

two kiss

 

budding

 

.      .      .      .

.      .      .

.      .

.

 

 I’m caressing my right palm with the left one

 

I’m starting to write

 

that’s me

 

I word

 

my words in Your heart

 

my words are pumping Your heart

 

my words are Your love blood

 

my words are Your immortal body

 

my immortal words are making everybody’s heart immortal

 

immortal heart is beating in the chests of all beings

 

immortality emerges from watching in each other’s eyes

 

we are watching each other

 

we are kissing through watching

 

fucking with eyes is the sexiest and most innocent fucking

 

eyes are the light of immortality

 

fucking is the sanctity of life through which life becomes immortal

 

fuck mortal ones fuck

 

fuck thirsty for love ones fuck

 

fuck hungry for immortality ones fuck

 

fuck fucked ones and through fucking be immortal fuck

 

may you deliver immortality through fucking

 

all beings are minerals

 

all beings are plants

 

all beings are animals

 

all beings are sprites of nature

 

all beings are people

 

all beings are higher intelligence

 

all beings are God

 

immortality within the moment is immortality within the eternity

 

immortality is love of a being for all beings

 

I changed sweaty t-shirt – there it is swaying in the strong wind

 

I’m caressing my left thigh with my left palm

 

I

well

that

is

you

you

well

that

is

I

 

three hundred weeks of writing and singing of Miroslav Mandic book

 

three hundred weeks of circling and repetition

 

three hundred weeks of hope and despair

 

three hundred weeks of ecstasy and tranquillity

 

writing is confidence in singing

 

singing is celebration of confidence

 

cock of singing has confidence in pussy of creating

 

pussy of creating has confidence in cock of creating

 

cocks of all beings believe pussies of all beings and love-kiss them brotherly

 

pussies of all beings believe cocks of all beings and love-kiss them sisterly

 

war doesn’t exist any more

 

through hurting another being man becomes unfree and miserable being

 

through killing and enslavement of the other a man becomes an evil-doer

 

arrogance is asexual

 

sexuality are all ecstatic moments in which beings are playing with each other

 

the one who’s fucking is fucking with all beings

 

fucking is the art of love

 

fucking is the art of loyalty

 

fucking is love and loyalty towards art

 

through fucking I don’t have any more time for not having time

 

through fucking I don’t have anything except everything

 

I’m reading Byron’s letters. I’m reading Byron for the first time

it pleases me very much actually because of our different origins and nature

even though different we are the same by ideals and openness to everything

 

some beings don’t like other beings. some beings are killing other beings

but every being is protected loved and eternal with all beings

 

love of all beings belongs to every being

 

being is love

 

all beings are one and only love

 

many beings are afraid of other beings. many beings are most afraid of love

and because of that fear from love they are shutting off from other beings

or are killing other beings

 

love is not a need

 

love is art of receiving and art of giving

 

love is three hundred weeks of love writing

 

love is three hundred weeks of creating love

 

love is three hundred weeks of creating creation

 

of sexual singing to the singer of fucking

 

just before the morning in my dream Slobodna Tisma told me

there is a trace remained on your lower lip which writes dead

dedicated to the project Resurrection of All Dead through Love

 

this morning unexpectedly a tooth started to ache me. it’s wobbling

it should probably be pulled out

 

pain takes away my energy. it stops me. makes pointless. humiliates

 

walk Miroslav walk

 

on today’s seventh kilometre it will be

3000 kilometres of the First Time Second Ten Year Walking

 

every made step is a great thing

 

every

written

word

is

a

great

poem

 

pain stop being pain

 

pain I wish You that You are never in pain

 

pain rejoice Yourself

 

pain rejoice me

 

pain atone me for my vanity and harshness

 

pain relieve me from feeling guilty

 

I admire this old man who is swimming in the lake

 

I admire Nietzsche for often writing under severe pain

 

while watching old woman sunbathing I feel how

my body is enjoying breathing through another body

 

I made 4.286.225^th step of the

First Time Second Ten Year Walking

 

I took a photo of it

breathe me

 

by the end of December it will be 4000 kilometres

love-kiss me

 

love-kiss Miroslav love-kiss

 

I carry on walking barefooted

 

I’m trying my best

 

I admire every being that is trying and fighting with their self

 

great effort is needed for ecstasy

 

even greater effort is needed for tranquillity

 

greatest effort is needed for bearing as well ecstasy as tranquillity

 

I got tired. tooth has exhausted me

I bow to You God’s tooth

 

sometimes life isn’t anything else but surviving

 

I’m ashamed for falling so easily

 

I’m ashamed in order to be worthy of the most fragile ones

 

I’m ashamed in order to be worthy of anything

 

I’m ashamed in order to be worthy of all loves that I got scared of

 

I’m

ashamed

of

this

love

as

well

as

of

every

poem

through

which

You

sing

me

 

what a dream with Tisma! and is it his project? and which loves you got scared of?

asked me Ivana in her e-mail concerning yesterday’s blessings

 

Resurrection of All Dead Through Love is my contribution to resurrection

 

many people and many beings are working on resurrection

not even knowing they are doing it nor knowing that it is being done

 

the fact that many are engaged in it

and from the beginning of time as well is a common project

bowing to Nikolai Fyodorov

 

work of love

 

a fruit is in the seed a seed is in the fruit

 

death is within life and life is within death

 

dying is within birth and resurrection is within dying

 

non of this I’m writing I know but I’m writing it because that’s how it is

and that’s how it will be

I’m kissing great poets of love

 

when I watch something with love I see love in everything

 

when I watch with immortality I see immortality in everything

 

God has created all creatures

 

all creatures are constantly creating God

 

word has been created in order to resurrect all beings

 

word

by

word

and

words

are

resurrecting

the

beauty

of

a

poem

and

goodness

of

singing

in

hearts

of

all

beings

in

front

of

your

and

my

eyes

through

one

and

only

eyes

 

questions are resurrecting both answers and the dead

 

yesterday’s blessing I’m ashamed in order to be worthy of all loves that I got scared of

didn’t refer to any specific love but on the feeling that I couldn’t recognise many loves.

that I was too ashamed. that a lot of things I didn’t understand. that many things I didn’t

love. that I was accepting that love is what is happening just between two people and

only amongst people. that I was jealous. that I would feel I wasn’t loved. that I couldn’t

recognise when somebody loved me. that I didn’t feel that everything and everybody

already love me

 

everything that is love is

 

all being are love

 

word is love

 

number is love

 

God is love

 

this man in front of me who is reading newspapers while walking is love

 

workers who are collecting big stones around the lake and throwing them

into a small tractor trailer and merrily singing while doing so are love

 

love of walking. love through walking. love for walking

 

love of flying. love through flying. love for flying

 

love of thinking. love through thinking. love for thinking

 

love of language. love through language. love for language

 

my tooth is not aching today. absence of pain is love

 

I was thinking of You and I saw one crow bathing in the lake and I immediately

sent You a text message Petar, was is you just a moment ago, this crow which was

bathing in the lake

little icon of love

 

Jelena brought me the book How the Steel Was Tempered

example of Jelena’s love

 

it’s hard for the one who said everything that he or she could of a certain subject

I’ve read these Voltaire’s words last night reading Byron

 

we are walking towards each other

 

when writing third word in the first blessing of the day

 

when looking forward to the third blessing in the second one

 

when in the third one I’m writing the same as in the first one

 

when I get up earlier in order to write

all 33 blessings before Elisa and Art come

 

when I’m using the word when to emphasise beauty of the moment

 

when hesitation disappears in front of the decision to go and get shaved

 

when after shaving I get tingling feeling on my skin

 

when day is becoming brighter and brighter like any other day

 

when excitement before the meeting resurrects excitements of past meetings

 

when I feel tranquillity because I got ready for the beloved ones

 

when I recognise that every moment is a sanctity

 

when I become the one I am

 

when the routine of repetition gives me back the freshness of first things

 

when I cannot wonder enough to the beauty of when that is singing me

 

when the flock of birds flies of the water

 

when I stop waiting for the appearance of the new when

 

when persistence transforms into music

 

when Your absence transforms into the eternal presence

 

when the child nurses its mother

 

when the one who had the eternal milk gushing from her breasts

 

when the one who resurrects You with a poem

 

when winds in the river valleys are blowing towards other winds

 

when the hand on the belly heals with love

 

when the healing with the whole heals all parts

 

when a mouse love-kisses a cat

 

when something that never was becomes

 

when the flock of birds after few slow circles again flies down onto the water

 

when certain cobbler bestows his walkings to the many

 

when grass starts walking all of a sudden

 

when autumn leaves

 

when a man on the road

 

when a woman with a rose

 

when bud of all beings