Bog Miroslav Mandić Bog

    You
    are

    416909

    bud

    LETS

    2404. day
    1st August 2011

    understand each other

     

    I am god

    dear god

    only through you

    I am god as well

    without you

    I’m neither god

    nor I would

    want to be god

    nor I would believe in god

    yesterday’s poem from the book I am You are I

     

    fuckable

     

    surrendering to myself

     

    surrendering to the magic of unknown

     

    unknown is loyal to the known

     

    known is a bow to the unknown

     

    it’s easy to live if I surrender to the life itself

     

    to the whirling of the water in the drain

     

    to the wattle basket knitting

     

    to the language games

     

    does anyone know where is my book

    Philosophical Investigations by Ludwig Wittgenstein

     

    I love the fact that I don’t put a question mark after the question

     

    water drips from my red rags for wiping the floor after wiping the floor

     

    sea is sexual

     

    plain is sexual

     

    corns are sexual

     

    prayer is sexual

     

    love is the most sexual

     

    many

    words

    that

    I

    have

    pronounced

    will

    sprout

    like

    god

     

    my beloved whore I love-kiss Your transformation

     

    my beloved whore I love-kiss Your loyalty

     

    my beloved whore I love-kiss Your service

     

    waves are lifting up and throwing themselves into the waves’ arms

     

    there will never be what already was

     

    there is no return

     

    resurrection

     

    it will be more beautiful and better

     

    it’s more beautiful and better now

     

    right now

     

    our love overflows into the hearts of all beings

     

    there is no moss on the rollin’ stones

     

    fuck it there is no end to the end

    final

    konec

    son

    fin

    end

    kraj

     

    LOVE-KISS THE LOVE-KISS

    2405. day
    2nd August 2011

    I am god

    dear god

    only through you

    I am a man as well

    without you

    nor I am a man

    nor I would want to be a man

    nor I would trust a man

    yesterday’s poem from the book I am You are I

     

    it feels great to write these words

     

    enjoy yourself through enjoying in me

     

    between

    you

    and

    me

    there

    is

    eternal

    war

    which

    yearns

    to

    be

    transformed

    in

    love

    actually

    by

    you

    and

    me

     

    I love half-war states that are overcoming the war

     

    I am the name of all narcotics

     

    I am a junkie of all God’s stimulations

     

    in one moment life is nothing else but the one of Novi Sad

    for Mi and Iv

     

    drops

    are

    not

    dropping

     

    You are my doctor contrite love of mine

     

    angels are sawing wood

     

    they are greasing the saw with bacon

     

    dance over my body

     

    sing within my soul

     

    resurrect within my mind

     

    don’t be blinded by love

     

    every day yearns to be beautiful day for all days

     

    may nobody be a wreck and may the word wreck live forever

     

    next Tuesday the Poem about Poem begins

     

    mysterious are these words which are talking about the mystery of words

     

    a word next to the word and there’s a path

     

    a word by word and there’s a story

     

    words are delightful testimony about words

     

    enjoy my words the same way I enjoy Your enjoying

     

    I think I’ve already written how Danube enjoys the word Danube

     

    I love enjoyment that creates and I don’t like enjoyment that destroys

     

    I’m moving away

     

    as much as I’m moving away that much I’m coming closer to You

     

    I think I’ve already written also that my heels and

    Achilles’ tendons are hurting from 10th January 2011

     

    drink joy and beauty every day

     

    eat health and goodness every day

     

    everyday – my every day little sister

     

    take a look at take a look

     

    PRACTICING LOVE

    2406. day
    3rd August 2011

    I am god

     

    dear god

    only through you

    am I a poet as well

    without you

    nor am I a poet

    nor would I want

    to be a poet

    nor would I believe in poem

    yesterday’s poem from the book I am You are I

     

    soil is sparkling

     

    I’m waiting for you blessings

     

    pictures are coming down into the heart

     

    relationship is a sanctity

     

    swine of mine thank You for teaching me not to cast pearls before swine

     

    our

    misunderstandings

    are

    a

    lot

    greater

    fuckup

    then

    our

    fuckings

     

    wow how a young sales woman was delighted last night by the tattoo on my temple

     

    that young lady filled me with love

     

    to fill somebody else with love is God’s joy

     

    young lady I love-kiss you forever

     

    I put the white rose bud on my palm. I’m watching it

    love-kissing. it’s petals are trembling. all beings are love-kissed

     

    I love You love

     

    love love-kiss all unloved ones

     

    sometimes it’s the most important to love-kiss the love itself so that love would survive

     

    sometimes love isn’t anything else but practicing love

     

    love-kissing the air

     

    love-kissing the unnoticed

     

    love-kissing the uncomprehended

     

    love-kissing accidental passers-by

     

    practising love is a gratitude to the sanctity of the life itself

     

    life itself is God’s breath

     

    I don’t put anything on my palm and I imagine that I’ve put the whole Universe.

    I’m watching it. love-kissing it. it’s vibrations are trembling. all beings are love-kissed

     

    all three dried up roses on my table are beautiful

     

    wow how beautiful it is to have a small amount of things

     

    wow how good it is to love-kiss everything

     

    sometimes practicing love is nothing else but

    wonderful tears that are coming from the depths of being and are not pity but celebrating 

     

    cry kisses

     

    sometimes practicing love is nothing else but love for practicing

     

    practice me beauty

     

    practice me goodness

     

    beaudness of mine – gooty of mine

     

    through soft lips of unprotectedness

     

     

    THE ART OF PATIENCE

    2407. day
    4th August 2011

    I am god

    dear god

    only through you

    am I an artist as well

    without you

    nor am I an artist

    nor would I want

    to be an artist

    nor I would believe in art

    yesterday’s poem from the book I am You are I

     

    morning freshness is coming through open window and balcony doors

     

    from this morning I’m not listening Rolling Stones. yesterday

    I finished reading Keith Richard’s Life. I enjoyed enormously

     

    I’m listening jazz right now

     

    from few days ago I love listening classical music

    in the evening when I’m putting things on the internet

     

    I love tender mornings

     

    walkouts into the infinity

     

    the infinity of these moments

     

    infinity of these slow words

     

    slow gazes

     

    tender mornings are slow

     

    tenderness is always slow

     

    slowness is tender

     

    decisions are tender

     

    writing of I am You are I poems is tender

     

    writing of blessings is tender

     

    accepting the other is tender

     

    surrendering to the other is even more tender

     

    freshness is still getting in through the open window and balcony doors

     

    grapes are slowly coming to me

     

    patience is a gift of great lovers

     

    patience is in deepest relationship with the greatest speed

     

    patience means being worthy of sex

     

    shake

    it

    baby

    shake

    it

     

    when You are completely calm forever I will tell You everything about You

     

    everything

    about

    You

    is

    everything

    about

    me

     

    being patient means being saved

     

    drink from my feet

     

    eat from my palm

     

    bath in my words

     

    sleep in my steps

     

    never enough

     

    I want it again

     

    I’M LEAVING THAT

    2408. day
    5th August 2011

    I am god

    dear god

    only through you

    am I a walker as well

    without you

    nor am I a walker

    nor would I want

    to be a walker

    nor I would believe in walking

    yesterday’s poem from the book I am You are I

     

    I’m sorry that instead of practicing love we had to dig the dirt of relationships

    it was written in an e-mail I got last night around midnight

     

    that’s why we’ll proclaim that mud as practicing of love

     

    it’s really tiring and boring everything ugly that happens within relationships

     

    relationship is a sanctity but very often it turns into the thwarting…

     

    I’m leaving that

     

    but since I’m still here – here are few words about

    beautiful new Canon PowerShot A800 photo camera that I bought

    yesterday but I was sad when I couldn’t download the photos from it

    that’s how I need to be patient and wait until somebody does it for me

     

    I thought that even today I will be taking photos with it and enjoy

    because it’s display is a lot larger than on my present camera. that will help

    me to watch through it what I’m taking photo of with greater thoughtfulness and joy

     

    hey it’s Friday

     

    I took a photo of my new camera taking photo of this page

     

    little

    poem

    lead

    me

     

    what You feel right now it is You among all beings

     

    grass is green

     

    it’s wonderful how grass is not giving up

     

    I’m listening how Miles Davis’ trumpet and John Lee Hooker’s guitar are mingling

     

    that’s a good relationship

     

    what a pleasure

     

    my butt cheeks are jigging on their own

     

    Miles and John are talking

     

    they are agreeing through the trumpet and the guitar

     

    relationship is constant agreement

     

    agreement is the only fucking

     

    fucking is only when it’s forever and constant

     

    now Sony Rollins is blowing

     

    wow how I enjoy certain people

     

    then that fine difference between trumpet and saxophone

     

    all guilt of this this world evaporates through me into the vastness of heavens

     

    guilt is being transformed in the heavens and

    it’s falling onto this world like a sudden rain of love

     

    I’m crackling with my lips towards the screen – I’m kissing You

     

    I’m winking at these words that I’m writing

     

    these

    are

    the

    twenty

    four

    words

    of

    the

    poem

    that

    you

    can

    tattoo

    in

    your

    heart

    to

    guard

    and

    love-kiss

    you

    always

    and

    forever

     

    ask me once what did Vuja say to Kajka about her and her best friend

     

    the same way always and forever are together in my one and only now that’s

    how we are always and forever together You and I in one and only love eternity

    amen

     

    73RD TIME 33 DAYS

    2409. day
    6th August 2011

    I am god

    dear god

    only through you

    am I a husband as well

    without you

    nor am I a husband

    nor would I want

    to be a husband

    nor I would believe in love

    yesterday’s poem from the book I am You are I

     

    loneliness of mine You are not alone I am with You

     

    great husbands are alone because they are creating yet uncreated love

     

    one more day closer to the Poem About Poem

     

    approval

     

    through approving I make good the approved

    (in Serbian it has a meaning of making good the approved, t.n.)

     

    I’m telling you nicely approve me what I tell You

     

    I’m approving writing through singing

     

    today I’ve made first photographs with the new photo camera

     

    I love the photography more and more as a primary picture not as a technology

     

    everything that is I approve

     

    approval is a mystery through which the tame ones love-kiss

     

    through approval even stones are shedding tears for goodness

     

    approve

    me

    approval

    approve

    me

    through

    approving

    me

     

    goodness approves beauty

     

    beauty makes goodness more beautiful

     

    make

    my

    approval

    more

    beautiful

    approve

    me

    through

    making

    me

    more

    beautiful

     

    rose

     

    rose wine

    I’d love to drink rose wine if the rose wine even exists

     

    grapes are not sweet yet but I’ve heard that they

    are being decorated with vine leaves to be sold easier

     

    they say it’s Saturday today

     

    Saturday like any other day is best for fucking

     

    fucking You are a sanctity of all sanctities that’s why I surrender to You every moment

     

    I fuck You fucking – fuck me fucking

     

    love-kiss me love-kissing – I love-kiss You love-kissing

     

    fucking You are so good that it hurts

     

    love-kissing You hurt me with Your beauty

     

    drink me fucking

     

    eat me love-kissing

     

    sleep me fucking and love-kissing

     

    a boy is a path to a girl

     

    a girl is a rose to a boy

     

    one

    is

    the

    bud

    one

    is

    the

    poem

    one

    is

    god

     

    YES

    2411. day
    8th August 2011

    morning joy of mine make all beings joyful

     

    a child is standing on the edge of the dock watching the water

     

    yes says the child to the water

     

    yes is the deepest thinking

     

    salt loves to be salt

     

    statements to be statements

     

    sub-statements to be sub-statements

     

    tops of the tree tops are enjoying the sky vastness

     

    roots are yearning for depths

     

    yesterday I felt why are they saying that the widows are fucking the best

     

    widows are fucking the best because they have been watching death in the eyes

    dedicated to Kaja Mandic

     

    instead of writing You about how excited I am about tomorrow’s beginning of writing

    the Poem About Poem I will write You how I’m always excited while waiting for You

     

    I can never have enough of that

     

    but before I carry on writing I want to tell You about something

     

    how false art is hiding behind personal debts and guilt

     

    glamour

     

    how greed is always unsuccessful

     

    theatrical

     

    how nobleness is constant modesty

     

    male tenderness

     

    recognition

     

    beloved sameness

     

    love-kissing through sameness

     

    Abraham’s yes is here am I to you

     

    here

    am

    I

    to

    you

     

    while I’m waiting for You I am all yes

     

    I feel Your yes

     

    Your yes and my yes are one yes

     

    we are getting breathless

     

    instead of breathing we breathe yes

     

    y

    e

    y  e  s  e  y

    e

    y

     

    thighs of the Universe in the palms of Cosmos in the heart of Heavens

     

    ah

     

    BOWING TO POEM – POEM IS THE BEGINNING

    2412. day
    9th August 2011

    beginning

     

    on this day on 9th August 1973 I got out of jail

     

    two years before that during the hot August days I wrote the

    Poem About Film because of which I was sentenced and imprisoned

     

    I bow to You Poem About Film. I will in Your glory in days that

    follow do 33 bows to poem through the text of Poem About Poem

     

    I wrote the Poem About Film being twenty two years old and forty two years should

    have passed so that I would write the Poem About Poem being sixty two years old

     

    I

    am

    god’s

    glory

     

    and now here you go Miroslav. in front of you

    are 1084 blessings. celebrate them through poem

    I get up from the table in order to become the beginning of the poem through the deep bow

     

    my eyes are full of tears. modesty oh modesty sing me

     

    modesty

    you

    are

    the

    poem

    of

    the

    beginning

     

    every moment is the beginning

     

    my belly is trembling

     

    beginning is a body of freedom

     

    with the body in the body

     

    my tears are drying

     

    I fuck You with the tears

     

    all of a sudden I felt I won’t even manage to begin

    writing about the beginning and the end of the beginning will come

     

    there is no coming back with the beginning

     

    brain transformed

     

    I am god

    I am beginning

    you are my poem

    about my beginning

    with which

    I created you

    through singing

    today’s poem from the book I am You are I

     

    beginning is a priori orgasm

     

    orgasm before orgasm

     

    a

    poem

    before

    the

    poem

    is

    the

    poem

    to

    the

    poem

     

    kiss my nipples

     

    shine within my words

     

    I love You because You are my loyal I

     

    beginning is everything – everything has begun

     

    begin me beginning

     

    a poem is the beginning of all-healing

     

    Novalis’ love

     

    blessed is the man that rejoices with trembling and that puts his trust in Him

    every day I will read few Psalms of David for the Poem About Poem

     

    j

    u

    s

    t

     

    b

    e

    g

    i

    n

    t

    r

    e

    m

    b

    l

    i

    n

    g

     

    it could have been different. it could have been a thousand different ways. but

     

    it’s

    obvious

    that

    poem

    is

    one

    and

    only

     

    BOWING TO POEM – POEM IS THE POEM ABOUT FILM

    2413. day
    10th August 2011

    First philosophers were applying images on everything. Because poetry,

    which is nothing else but applying images on thoughts, is older than prose.

    I read these Kant’s words a moment ago while sitting on the toilet seat and reading his Logic

     

    judge me, O LORD, according to my

    righteousness and according to mine integrity that is in me

    Psalm 7:8

     

    out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast Thou ordained strength

    Psalm 8:2

     

    I loved film a lot when I was young

     

    I was getting strength from it and I was surrendering myself to it completely

     

    I learned from films to recognise enjoy surrender

    and give myself away to male and female heroes

     

    to the heroes of beauty and goodness

     

    through film I vowed to the all-hero because when a hero isn’t

    a hero to everybody then he is a hero for ones and a villain for others

     

    that summer I was few months short of being twenty two

    years old and few months after three decisions I made. to breakaway

    with university studies because I felt that world evil is uprooted in the university

     

    to breakaway with art because I’ve yearned for the

    miraculous art and not for success career and surviving

     

    to breakaway with film my first big love because film was

    disgustingly expensive thing and completely within the hands of the powerful

     

    it was very hot. it was Novi Sad. there were cigarette butts. there was asphalt. there was

    huge sexuality and even greater loneliness. it was great power in front of the abyss

    of meaninglessness. it was somebody who wasn’t there. those were

    all bridges that I’ve burnt behind me

     

    in one loft covered with sweat and wrapped in white sheets I was writing

    Poem About Film as a farewell to film and the decision to make a film out of text

     

    I made it since because of that text I was sentenced and last night

    Ivana told me how reading and translating yesterday’s blessings she

    had a feeling that just now forty years later am I finally getting out of the jail

     

    the text was translated from Hungarian to Serbian by

    Katalin Ladik and it was printed in Uj simpozion. I’m going to take a look

    at the Poem About Film which I don’t have in original and in which end is written

    The text was rewritten based on the need for basic translation of the

    Poem About Film inscription which was sent to the Local Court by the

    District Prosecutor’s Office. It was rewritten for internal needs and it will be

    at the disposal of members of the Youth Forum’s Council, members of the Chair

    of the Municipal Conference of the Youth Union and members of the Secretariat of the

    Province Conference of the Youth Union.

     

    POEM ABOUT FILM

    a fourteen verse sonnet about film

    Thanks to the revolutions. But no thanks!

    Thanks to the geese. Remember and get back.

    I’m writing to my friends hoping that this text finds them

    in good physical health, spiritual happiness and love…

     

    that’s how the Poem About Film begins and eleventh

    twelfth and thirteenth part of the text are three of my – shortest – screenplays

     

    REVOLUTION

    screenplay

    When?   Now

    Why?   Just because

    How?   Like This

    Instructions for making this film. For film Revolution nor film camera, nor cameraman,

    director, screenplay writer, costume designer, set designer, actors, nor extras are needed.

    The film is being recorder live. This film should be recorded every day until the day of death.

     

    JOSIP BROZ TITO

    screenplay

    To record the colour photo of Josip Broz Tito in one shot that would last for two hours.

    Camera is static. Along with the end caption speaker says: This was Josip Broz Tito

     

    WORKERS

    screenplay

    To record all workers in Yugoslavia. One take

    one worker. Worker says his or hers personal information

     

    twenty two year old Miroslav Mandic I’m on your side

    you were on your own against everybody

     

    I’m also on your side sixty two year old Miroslav Mandic

    you are alone for everybody

     

    I’m thinking of the wind that I felt today on my skin and listened to it around my ears

     

    towards the end of the walking I slowed down

    and felt the beauty of sun and goodness of poem

     

    sun’s

    poem

    while

    walking

    the

    poem’s

    sun

     

    with each gaze I record one film because through the

    Poem About Film and jail that came after it I became film

     

    unrecorded film – poem – one and only film

     

    all the boys of this world are already dead

     

    boys

    live

    through

    poem

    poem

    sings

    to

    girls

     

    I bow to You Poem About Film – You are bowing to courage

     

    poem

    about

    film

    is

    never

    ending

    into

    eternal

    film

    about

    poem

    it

    turned

     

    poem

    about

    film

    is

    never-ending

    film

    of

    goodness

    and

    beauty

    within

    one

    and

    only

    poem

     

    fuckable

    filmable

    poemable

    BOWING TO POEM – POEM IS THAT WHAT IS

    2414. day
    11th August 2011

    violeta

    ivana

    eternal

    workers

    surrender

    yourselves

    to

    the

    work

    and

    enjoy

    working

    that’s

    what

    tells

    you

    this

    work

    and

    jail

    poem

    a message in an e-mail which accompanied yesterday’s sending of the

    blessings so that Violeta could edit and correct and Ivana translate them to English

     

    dearest feelings for you. south from me. showing me what

    is art by saying nothing, just listening to wind, bud, street. you

    an sms which I got yesterday from Dagmar Moser

     

    I am loyal to all beings – tell that to everybody Mirjana

    an sms which I sent to Mirjana

     

    poem is not an investigative judge. poem is not a prosecutor. poem is not a judge

    punishment is. atonement is. redemption is. freedom is. love is

     

    poem is not anciency that destroys immediacy

    now is

     

    poem is not opposing

    beggar is

     

    poem is not a teacher nor a professor nor a doctor

    fool is

     

    poem is not richness nor theatre nor elite nor dialogue nor democracy

    wandering is

     

    poem is not liberal-capitalism nor communism nor fascism

    unselfishness is

     

    poem is not a family nor a tribe nor a nation nor a state

    recognition is

     

    poem is not ideology nor idolatry

    idea and freedom are

     

    poem are not human laws

    law is

     

    poem is not an atomic bomb

    atomic lullaby is

     

    poem are not biological interests

    biological health is serving non-interest

     

    poem are not slavery and conformism

    obedience to God and love are

     

    poem is not You

    Your sweaty dress which I’m hanging on the rope to dry until You get out of the bathroom is

     

    poem is not superiority

    surrendering to the other is

     

    poem is not talking

    word is

     

    poem is not female nor male

    a child is

     

    poem are not killings nor celebrations of hymns and

    flags with which soldierly killings are being committed

    pulsating heart of a poet in every being is

     

    poem are not culture nor social relations

    admiration and praising the praise are

     

    poem are not taxes nor impoverishment of the poor

    gift and giving are

     

    poem are not weapon industry. meet industry. dairy industry. beauty

    industry. entertainment industry. museum industry. indifference industry

    compassion and solidarity are

     

    poem is not maternity selfishness that stops the evolution

    runaway child is

     

    poem is not fatherly crimes that prevent the revolution

    child-revolutionary is

     

    poem is great-grandchildren’s grandchildren’s and sons’ recognition that

    their great-grandfathers’ grandfathers’ and fathers’ have committed war crimes

     

    great poem is when that is done either by

    great-grandfathers or grandfathers or fathers themselves

     

    poem is meandering down the road

     

    poem is curling around the rose

     

    poem is – everything else are stories about it

     

    poem is cracking of the thumbs on both hands before I wrote this blessing

     

    poem is a hand with which I’m caressing the poem

     

    poem is withdrawing through which all borders are being erased

     

    BOWING TO POEM — POEM IS CREATING THE FORM AND SINGING THE CONTENT

    2415. day
    12th August 2011

    uphold my goings in Thy paths, that my footsteps slip not

    Psalm, 17:5

     

    poem is everything that is waiting for me

    through the form and content in the following hour

     

    poem of love is being born from love not from a man and a woman

     

    through the form

     

    all words through one word

     

    through singing

     

    one word through all words

     

    Miroslav Mandic book is a poem

     

    beauty of shaping

     

    goodness of a ball

     

    a poem that constantly flows

     

    circles

     

    through the rhythm of 33 blessings every day

     

    blessing by blessing

     

    innocence of singing

     

    form has always been exciting for me

    fucking You

     

    content has always been orgasming me

    fucking me

     

    one is the form

    beauty

     

    one is the content

    goodness

     

    I can’t stop wondering how this 68159th blessing was created

    market price of this blessing is 68159 euros – for You of course it’s for free

     

    if the world could feel my joy while listening to these

    street songs it would be forever freed from selfishness and ownership

     

    form is unrepeatable

    Gertrude Stein

     

    content is repetition

    Epic of Gilgamesh

     

    form through its beauty takes a breath away

     

    content through its beauty sheds tears

     

    form is immortality

     

    content is regenerating mortality

     

    h

    h    o

    h    o    m

    h    o    m    e

    h    o    m    e    l

    h    o    m    e    l    e

    h    o    m    e    l    e    s

    h    o    m    e    l    e    s    s

    h    o    m    e    l    e    s    s    n

    h    o    m    e    l    e    s    s    n    e

    h    o    m    e    l    e    s    s    n    e    s

    h    o    m    e    l    e    s    s    n    e    s    s

     

    here I am – I am a poem through super-beautiful form and super-good content

     

    a    d    m    i    r    a    t    i    o    n

    a    d    m    i    r    a    t    i    o

    a    d    m    i    r    a    t    i

    a    d    m    i    r    a    t

    a    d    m    i    r    a

    a    d    m    i    r

    a    d    m    i

    a    d    m

    a    d

    a

     

    here I am with super-good form and super-beautiful content

     

    exhale before you inhale

     

    b

    b  u

    b  u  d

    b  u  d

    b  u

    b

     

    BOWING TO POEM – POEM IS THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF POEM

    2416. day
    13th August 2011

     The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want

    He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters

    He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake

    Psalm, 23:1, 2, 3

     

    This Is Just To Say by William Carlos Williams is my favourite poem

     

    This Is Just To Say

     

    I have eaten

    the plums

    that were in

    the icebox

     

    and which

    you were probably

    saving

    for breakfast

     

    Forgive me

    they were delicious

    so sweet

    and so cold

     

    in an interview with Linda Wagner, Williams explains this poem like this:

    Since my wife was absent, I left a note for her, just like that, and she

    gave me a really nice answer. Unfortunately, I lost it. What she wrote was

    as good as this is. A bit more complicated, but as good. Maybe the value

    of this poem lies in its simplicity.

    Question: I would like to ask you why is it a poem?

    Williams: First of all, metrically it’s completely proper. (He reads). Hence,

    dogmatically speaking, it has to be a poem, since that’s how it goes, can’t you see!

    Question: Although it opposes many notions about what the poem is (Williams

    is laughing with pleasure), since it is something anybody could say.

    Williams: Yes, because nobody believes that poetry can exist

    in their own lives. That is one of our first mistakes.

     

    PERCEPTION OF ANNOYANCE TOWARDS THE NOTION OF ANNOYANCE

     

    I’m

    annoyed

    with

    annoyance

    between

    us

    but

    the

    fact

    that

    I

    wrote

    that

    to

    you

    liberates

    me

    from

    annoyance

     

    You smiled when a moment ago I read this poem

    to You and You said that it liberates You from annoyance

     

    REALLY

     

    you

    really

    love

    me

    you’re

    killing

    me

     

    I wrote the poem Really when I was young. those are actually

    the words of a girl which I was watching one evening very carefully and

    with care and she told me before we parted you really love me you’re killing me

     

    on the top of my palm where it bends I wrote a poem by tattooing the word poem

     

    on the left palm I wrote a poem about dance by tattooing the word dance

     

    a poet is the autobiography of a poem

     

    a poem is the autobiography of a poet

     

    first ratatouille this year

     

    I’m jigging with my leg

     

    each

    poem

    sings

    and

    testifies

    about

    itself

    and

    so

    do

    I

     

    I

    am

    a

    child

    revolutionary

     

    there

    are

    no

    boundaries

    between

    beings

    nor

    between

    worlds

     

    when

    I

    start

    crying

    my

    tears

    are

    falling

    down

    your

    eyes

     

    when

    I

    smile

    you

    come

     

    when

    I

    say

    sorry

    to

    you

    you

    resurrect

     

    poverty

    I

    love-kiss

    you

     

    poems of the slaves are hymns to God

     

    a

    poem

    to

    freedom

    is

    the

    freedom

    itself

     

    this book is written in God’s glory

    Wittgenstein wished for this to be put as an inscription in one of his books

     

    I would love so much to write my autobiography

     

    to sing about creation

     

    to create singing

     

    through the dick I’m coming back to my own birth

     

    more and more same with each step

     

    a

    poem

    is

    rebellion

    and

    love

    for

    rebels

    support and encouragement to young London rebels who are setting

    free the whole world from the crime of this civilisation and its authorities

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    this poem of love for all beings that I wrote with twenty words I announce to all beings without words

     

    with each boy within me I vow to each girl within You

     

    a

    poem

    is

    my

    scream

    bud

    through

    which

    the

    younglings

    of

    all

    beings

    are

    being

    born

    within

    every

    being

     

    BOWING TO POEM – POEM IS INCEST

    2418. day
    15th August 2011

    today is 15th August 2011 like any other 15th August today is also 15th August

     

    fifty three years since Milomir Mandic committed suicide

     

    Milomire I love You more and more and I admire You more and more for killing Yourself

     

    the voice of the LORD maketh the hinds to calve, and layeth bare

    the forests, and in His temple doth every one speak of His glory

    Psalm 29:9

     

    suicide is a sort of incest

     

    the

    blood

    of

    poem

    love-kisses

    the

    poem

    of

    blood

     

    horror love-kisses horror

     

    anybody’s face is a poem

     

    walking is incest

     

    watching is incest

     

    thinking is incest

     

    one is the heart – incest is

     

    one is the creation – incest is

     

    one is the incest – love is

     

    singing is incestuous

     

    incest between mother earth and son wind

     

    incest between father light and daughter water

     

    incest between brother singing and sister dancing

     

    incest with hands

     

    incest with feet

     

    incest of babies

     

    incest of ideas

     

    incest of the first and the last word

     

    conscience is incest

     

    sameness is incest

     

    everything was created from one

     

    everything is to each other one and only

     

    I’m watching – You are kissing Your breasts’ nipples with Your lips

     

    You are singing immortality with Your mind

     

    here – do You feel us within the incest

     

    you

    and

    me

    are

    one

    I

     

    I

    am

    the

    incest

    I

    love-kiss

    you

     

    I

    am

    the

    poem

    fuck

    me

     

    BOWING TO POEM – POEM IS GIVING ONE’S WORD

    2419. day
    16th August 2011

    I give You my word that I’m giving You my word

     

     

    poem

    is

    giving

    one’s

    word

     

     

    given

    word

    is

    great

    poetry

     

     

    wedding through conscience

     

    love

    what

    it

    is

     

    most

    natural

    medicine

    for

    the

    pain

    that

    exists

     

    love

    one of the last William Barrows’ words in the diary from 30th July 1997

    two days before death. I made a poem in glory of William Barrows

     

    in the end of his life Barrows gave me the word love

     

     

    You

    have

    been

    excellent

    yesterday

    keep

    on

    being

    good

    and

    be

    good

    every

    day

    and

    don’t

    you

    worry

    a poem in Your glory from the sms that I sent You

     

     

    thank

    you

    I

    think

    all

    day

    about

    the

    blows

    that

    you’ve

    been

    receiving

    and

    how

    you

    survived

    until

    now

    and

    retained

    love

    for

    all

    my

    outbursts

    I

    apologise

    to

    you

    love

    forever

    a poem in God’s glory from the sms I got from You

     

     

    a word rock has been given to the rock

     

    a rock is tender like my belly

     

    a given word is a given poem

     

    all words that I’m writing are poems that I’m giving to You

     

    all the words that I’m saying are poems through which I’m giving to You

     

    giving one’s word is keeping one’s word

     

    given word is a path by which a word leads me

     

     

    god

    gave

    me

    a

    word

    and

    gave

    me

    himself

    within

    the

    words

     

     

    all the words that people have given to each

    other and kept are the only treasure that exists

     

    given word is lullaby

     

    my times are in Thy hand; deliver me from the hand

    of mine enemies and from them that persecute me

    Psalm 31:15

     

    within Your heart are my words

     

    Petar Miloradovic has sent me the words of Pier Paolo Pasolini and Nikita Stanesku

     

    here – I give my word that I will do everything so that the new economic crisis doesn’t occur

     

    here – I give my word that I’m doing everything so that great wars don’t come

     

    here – to all beings I give my word all beings you are immortal

     

    here – I give my word that every word of mine is immortal

     

    here – I give my word that every word of mine is the most expensive

     

    here – I give my word that every word of mine is a path

     

    here – I give my word that every word of mine is a rose

     

    here – I give my word that every word of mine is dancing

     

    here – I give my word that every word of mine is singing

     

     

    here

    is

    the

    joy

    through

    which

    the

    word

    joy

    sings

     

     

    here

    is

    the

    love

    that

    you

    yearn

    for

    within

    your

    as

    well

    as

    mine

    I

     

    BOWING TO POEM – POEM IS DYING THROUGH EACH POEM AND DYING FOR EACH POEM

    2420. day
    17th August 2011

    who said deep blues here

    me

     

    from culture I only believe in the culture of deep blues

    if I was a researcher I would be researching what is dert in different nations and especially in different beings

     

    whoever had ever felt horror he or she recognises beauty of tranquillity

     

    whoever had ever felt chaos he or she surrenders to Cosmos

     

    whoever felt beauty of voluntary poverty

    he or she will never whish any kind of richness

     

    whoever and whenever had was excited

    by goodness he or she will always be loyal to goodness

     

    whoever and whenever had felt sexuality

    of sacrifice he or she will surrender to obedience

     

    whoever and whenever had experienced

    a trauma he or she will recognise yearning for great energy

     

     

    whoever and whenever had said to somebody I love You he or she became a father

     

    whoever and whenever had heard I love You he or she became a mother

     

    whoever and whenever had been ready right away

    he or she enabled the centuries to get some rest

     

    whoever and whenever had been tired he or she will know who is humour

     

    whoever and whenever had saw a frog flying he or she will love-kiss the water

     

    whoever and whenever had saw a swallow flying he or she will love-kiss the meandering

     

    whoever and whenever had saw anybody’s

    face as God he or she will be Goddess to God

     

    whoever and whenever had resisted their passion he or she will become love

     

    whoever and whenever had saw the donkey’s

    ears he or she will protect the youth of all beings

     

    whoever and whenever had drank the milk from the breast

    of word he or she will respect the milk in the breast of every being

     

    whoever and whenever had come on

    incomprehensible he or she will serve the comprehensible

     

    whoever and whenever had cleansed the vomit

    and shit of the other he or she can be proclaimed an emperor

     

    whoever and whenever had read William Blake he or

    she will always love-kiss William Blake within him of herself

     

    whoever and whenever had smacked somebody in the purple of blood will fall in love

     

    whoever and whenever had walked the field may he or she surrender to infinity

     

    whoever and whenever had gotten number five

    by throwing the dice may he or she bow to Pythagoras

     

    whoever and whenever had denounced him or herself he or she

    had experienced that the whole Universe had announced itself to them

     

    whoever and whenever had been mad at me he or she

    had just surrendered to me through his or her closedness

     

    I acknowledged my sin unto Thee, and mine iniquity have I not hid. I said, "I will confess my transgressions unto the LORD," and Thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin

    Psalm 32:5

     

    whoever and whenever had felt the knees he or she will discover bowings

     

    whoever and whenever had experienced this he or she became a word

     

    whoever and whenever had smiled he or she had surrendered to immortality

     

    poems are immortal because through each poem one dies

    in order to resurrect as soon as possible with the next poem

     

    BOWING TO POEM – POEM IS THROWING ONESELF INTO THE POEM I APOLOGISE

    2421. day
    18th August 2011

    I apologise – raise me through You absolution

     

    I apologise – raise me into the infinity of Your goodness

     

    I apologise – raise me into the closeness of Your beauty

     

    I apologise – raise me through Your horror behind

    which goodness and beauty are hiding embraced

     

    I apologise – raise me into Your redemption through which Your horror disappears

     

    I apologise – raise me into Your rampage to transform it into joyfulness

     

    I apologise – raise me into Wittgenstein’s proclamation

    an inner process stands in need of outward criteria

     

    I apologise – raise me so that I can understand how important is what’s not important

     

    I apologise – raise me into every grass blade

     

    I apologise – raise me into the glassy gaze with

    which a cow breastfeeds all of those who lost the meaning

     

    I apologise – raise me through joy into the eyes of those who are left only with hope

     

    I apologise – raise me to inspire through

    raising all the fallen ones and those who gave up

     

    I apologise – raise me to the joy and gratitude of sanative jocularity

     

    I apologise – raise me into the loyalty I owe You

     

    I apologise – raise me through the apologies those universal healings

     

    I apologise – raise me to the first word good within which all words are

     

    I apologise – raise me to intertwine with our bellies

     

    I apologise – raise me to the sandy seaside beaches

    so that they can resurrect within the filth of the rejected ones

     

    I apologise – raise me to help Dusan tonight

    keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile

    Psalm 34:13

    the Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken

    heart, and saveth such as are of a contrite spirit

    Psalm 34:13

     

    I apologise – raise me tonight to inspire Dusan to help others all his life

    The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and He delighteth in his way

    Psalm 37:23

    Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down;

    for the Lord upholdeth him with His hand

    Psalm 37:24

     

    I apologise – raise me to the particles of good beings through which all beings breathe

     

    I apologise – raise me to the alone ones

    who are knitting wreaths of happiness to all beings

     

    I apologise – raise me to the light through which the unwanted ones

    are lighting the path to the vain ones so that they don’t end up in the abyss

     

    I apologise – raise me to the goodness of the thrown

    away forgotten and newest machines and their yearning for the

    beginning through which they had saved people from the frenzied progress

     

    I apologise – raise me with the hips within dance

    during which the dance bows to the sex within the hips

     

    I apologise – raise me exactly where am I now and into this boy that I am

     

    I apologise – raise me to the body which vows that will immortalise me

     

    I apologise – raise me to the heart that yearns to trust me

     

    I apologise – raise me to the mind that wants to celebrate me

     

    I apologise – raise me to the one to whom my life is more important than hers

     

    I apologise – raise me into the raising apologising transforming and redemption

     

    I apologise – raise me to the raising and attainment

     

    I apologise – raise me to throwing myself into the poem’s embrace

     

    BOWING TO POEM – POEM IS GOD-LOVE-KISSING

    2422. day
    19th August 2011

    sudden morning goodness and unexpected beauty – You and I but God

     

    permeating that causes warm tears start falling – pussy and cock but God

     

    open nostrils are opening mind – path and rose but God

     

    sophistication of unrecognisable worlds – please and thank You but God

     

    a knap soaked with the smell of thyme – insouciance and unreasonableness but God

     

    we are going down the meadow full of wild flowers – goodness and beauty but God

     

    playful in the realms of otherworldly – truth and freedom but God

     

    with my hand on the tree bark – carefulness and peace but God

     

    oaths in youth are celebrating the blessings

    of the old age – asceticism and sacrifice but God

     

    as the hart panteth for the water brooks, so panteth my soul for Thee, O God!

    Psalm 42:1

    my soul thirsteth for God, for the living God; when shall I come and appear before God

    Psalm 42:2

    yet the Lord will command His lovingkindness in the daytime, and in

    the night His song shall be with me and my prayer unto the God of my life

    Psalm 42:8

     

    I would throw myself powerfully and I would fly through

    the air into the desired water – visible and invisible but God

     

    ecstatic rolls forward and rolls back – specific and abstract but God

     

    nomadic recognitions – summer downpours or winter blizzards but God

     

    joy with which I’m writing these fragile words as well – each being and all beings but God

     

    last night I enjoyed with great pleasure Your

    writing my friend – macrocosms and microcosms but God

     

    my leg between Your thighs in the dawn – sincerity and openness but God

     

    I live also through the beauty of mathematical formulas

    and that should be known – prayers and pilgrimages but God

     

    mild coarse palms in the heat are serving

    God’s vineyards – caressing and agreement but God

     

    through creating and revealing I’m loyal to everything – joy and radiance but God

     

    I love-kiss you my unsuccessful virtual beggary – calmness and serenity but God

     

    male and female beggars you are the chiefs of all municipalities in the

    Universe and heads of the Assembly of All Beings – principles and circle but God

     

    naked in struggle with ourselves we are mild

    to each other – admiration and deification but God

     

    Dusica Drazic I enjoy what You are dong – sparrows and swallows but God

     

    may somebody touch her of his knee so that

    everybody would feel good – grass and winds but God

     

    holly unprotectedness protect all unprotected ones – a Chinese boy who’s playing

    on his own on Padina and little Gipsy boy who recognises me in the forest but God

     

    everything strives towards each other everything

    love-kisses each other – victory and defeat but God

     

    yesterday’s and today’s swimming with fingers with which

    I block my ears while diving – little stream and ocean but God

     

    a butterfly that I just saw for the first time while it was hanging on

    my blue towel that was drying on the balcony – alive and dead but God

     

    with my hand on my belly I’m smiling to the

    beauty of all good features – monks and Elders but God

     

    with one leg on the pavement with the other on the road – poets and mystics but God

     

    You just You-You just You-You just You – Buddha and Christ but God

     

    a child walks on his own that’s me – rose and bud but God

     

    walks on his own. a child walks. I walk – a moment this moment but God

     

    BOWING TO POEM – POEM SINGS ME EVEN WHEN THERE IS NO ONE TO HEAR MY POEM

    2423. day
    20th August 2011

    poem is often alone and there is no one to hear it

    and that’s why poem sings only to those who are alone

     

    poem is death of selfishness and singled I

     

    poem is a sip through which I drink all wishes

     

    poem is every word that You have said

     

    poem is every word that You gave birth to

     

    I’m most proud with madness with which I love-kissed You

     

    madness for You have opened my heart

     

    you

    are

    my

    path

    towards

    one

    and

    only

    I

     

    deserts of goodness are saving young beings which are in danger

     

    have You ever experienced that when You

    stop talking all beings start singing in Your glory

     

    have You ever experienced that when You

    turn the other cheek birds are singing Your poem

     

    there is no reason for us to constantly

    not give up and not fuck with beauty and goodness

     

    for every beast of the forest is Mine and the cattle upon a thousand hills

    Psalm 50:10

    I know all the fowls of the mountains, and the wild beasts of the field are Mine

    Psalm 50:11

     

    I sing alone to the clearness of writing

     

    I

    sing

    alone

    to

    the

    lonesome

    to

    the

    very

    poem

     

    I sing alone to the dogs which are lying on the streets of Ban’s Hill

     

    I sing alone to each book in which Ludwig Wittgenstein is mentioned

     

    I sing alone to everyone who doesn’t give up the struggle with his or herself

     

    I sing alone to the drawings of good walker that are being born on my desk

     

    I

    sing

    alone

    to

    the

    mocking

    this

    poem

    as

    well

    is

    exposed

    to

     

    I

    sing

    alone

    heart

    of

    mine

    is

    dear

    to

    god

     

    I sing alone so that nobody would be alone

     

    I

    sing

    alone

    my

    mind

    is

    home

    to

    all

    beings

     

    I sing alone with the lips that love-kiss every word in singing

     

    I sing alone to Your ears from which my singing springs

     

    I

    sing

    alone

    poem

    caresses

    me

    over

    the

    all-soul

     

    I sing alone and horses sing with me

     

    I sing alone and poppies by the roads are singing with me

     

    I sing alone and whores are singing with me

     

    I sing alone and runaway children are singing with me

     

    I sing and alone all kisses are singing with me

     

    I sing alone and all dead are resurrecting so that they would sing with me

     

    I sing alone and all of the still unborn ones are

    singing with me so that they would once be born being good

     

    BOWING TO POEM – POEM ARE GREAT ENERGIES IN THE HEARTS OF THE MEEK ONES

    2425. day
    22nd August 2011

    I made this up last year already: when I walk my

    morning round I then add so called Miroslav’s kilometre

    first of all in order to add and not to take, secondly that one is slower

    walking, deliberate slowing down and a bit more of an eye opening instead

    of the day planning, etc. that’s how it was this morning as well on the hill above us

    in the woods

    Vera’s e-mail from this morning as an example of everyday poem of the great energy in the hearts of the meek ones

     

    meekness meekness meekness of mine keep on leading me within the singing

     

    may you find Your peaceful pillow on my dried out tears

     

    poem is meekness in which there is no fear just love-kissing alone

     

    poem is the fact that I’m writing in front of Your eyes

     

    poem is Moses Zarathustra Lao Tzu

    Pythagoras Buddha Christ Muhammad Gypsy

     

    poem is John Lee Hooker who’s birthday is today

     

    tears which suddenly start falling down the face of the toothless ploughman

     

    small river in a birth village about which a poet was singing on the bank of the big river

     

    Kaja’s sufferings when she became a widow

     

    adrenalin through which life struggles to survive within everyone

     

    adrenalin of adrenalin through which life of life struggles so that all lives would survive

     

    unbelievable amount of poems in each step

     

    believable quality of singing through each step

     

    push me hard towards singing my modesty

     

    a shed with horse collars

     

    smell of the horse piss which used to stun me and get me back to life of all beings

     

    small children which are dying in order to redeem their parents

     

    death of every being through which any poem is glory to the life itself

     

    asphalt and concrete are meadows full of flowers

    for those who grew up on the asphalt and concrete

     

    creativity enables a fly to get out of the fly catching bottle

     

    eighty five year old woman who got married

    these days to Pythagoras who is 2500 years older than her

     

    through You Your daughter came to life who is only

    twelve and she is surrendering to me and love-kissing me

     

    poem is uprising against women that is waiting for me in the autumn

     

    apples which I was throwing in the sky in Rasinari

     

    poem

    is

    god’s

    response

    to

    you

    which

    I

    still

    cannot

    find

    so

    you

    can

    take

    this

    poem

    of

    love

    as

    an

    answer

     

    18:18

    poem is tenuity of time which I feel in the beauty of time

     

    this

    is

    a

    sixteen

    years

    long

    kiss

    with

    which

    I’m

    kissing

    you

     

    this

    is

    a

    poem

    about

    my

    departure

     

    first baked paprika of this year

     

    do

    you

    hear

    my

    departing

    steps

    through

    which

    I’m

    singing

    you

    in

    the

    infinity

     

    poem of mine sing through the gifts of all beings

     

    gift

    you

    are

    a

    little-god

    of

    every

    being

    BOWING TO POEM – POEMS ARE SAYINGS

    2426. day
    23rd August 2011

    You say that poems are all that You are saying to me

     

    You say that You enjoy my goodness

     

    You say that You vow to my beauty

     

    You say that my skin is becoming more and more

    beautiful to You even though it’s becoming elderly

     

    You say that You have never met someone who speaks so clearly through being silent

     

    You say that You haven’t felt anywhere such warmth like in my solitude

     

    You say that You would love if I would never stop writing in front of Your eyes

     

    You say that You remember when we separated from each other from within the one

     

    You say that You will never hurt me again

     

    You say that You will give me Your life to sing about it

     

    You say that You live just from my sperm

     

    You say that You are guarding me while I’m flying through the unknown

     

    You say that You have been on the wedding of the eighteen year old girl and Pythagoras

     

    You say that You fucked with my father and that’s why you love me even more

     

    You say that Raca’s wife who wished from her childhood that

    her kids would fly out of her is the greatest mother You have seen

     

    You say that You would love to drink cold beer by the cold streams

     

    You say that from now on You will be loyal to each walnut

     

    You say that You will heal every illness of mine

     

    You say that You will give me back three times 33000 euros that I gave You

     

    You say that You know number 1

     

    You say that poem is Your clitoris

     

    You say that I fuck minutely

     

    You say that You love to swim with me

     

    You say that whole my heart is within Your brain

     

    You say that the eternity of my brain is within Your heart

     

    You say that You feel how I’m not sure whether to go

    today to washout my ear or to swim across the Danube

     

    You say that You support me because I decided to go and swim across the Danube

    I got into the water at 12:25pm. I swam across and got back immediately. I got out of the Danube at 1:25pm

     

    You say that You never told me that You love how I repeat a lot of things

     

    You say that sayings are yearnings for poem

     

    You say that sayings are also the puppies that we saw on the street last night

     

    You say that I shouldn’t worry about the tingling of my tongue

     

    You say I just felt how beautiful it is that in each blessing you are repeating

    something as if I said that even though I haven’t said anything and I don’t even exist

     

    You say that You are each word that I’m saying

     

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