Bog Miroslav Mandić Bog

I’m walking for three kilometres now and I’m not able

to write anything because I’m not in the state of poem

the state of poem is the state of all-permeating

the state of the one

all states in one and only state

the state of the first word

with the first word all words are existing

there is the first word in every word

word grass in the word grass

word work in the word work

word gift in the word gift

the state of poem

this

is

tattooed

poem

through

which

god

sings

on my back

I’m watching one stone

I’m watching one woman who is getting out of the car

I’m watching two Chinese women talking over the phone

I feel how a drop of sweat is sliding down my neck

I rub my hair with my hand and drops of sweat are tingling the skin on my shoulders

I haven’t taken the photo of the grass yet

I am the face

I am really excited by the beauty of the words I am the face

while I was taking the jackstone out of my insole a woman who

was passing by was watching how I was putting the sock with the insole

I’m walking from one to the other side of the city

over the seven hills and valleys

from Padina to Karaburma

I’m more so the Universe than I’m in the Universe

face to face with the grass that I’m taking the photo of

life is a temple to the life

everyday life is a temple of eternity in every day

I love big words

through eternity everything is eternal

there it is the Danube – wow I’ll be swimming

I’m watching it spreading meandering and going towards its confluence

each step of mine contains all beauties of this world

everything there is within me

me and wind are affirming ourselves

on the entrance of the woods a robin always sings

goats’ shit is smelling in the woods

path in the woods has dried out from last week’s rains

workers are mowing the grass around the lake

I’m walking slowly – resting my brain

letting our mind at ease is very important

because that’s how the brain is getting its food on its own

maybe I’ll have a swim tomorrow in the lake

how grass fells pleasant on the bare feet

I took the jackstone out my sandal

air is my pillow

I’m waiving to the poppies

I hear the silence of the street through which I’m passing through

I close my eyes

relax my face

slight smile buds

I’m walking

it’s warm

sea is in my nose

I’m walking and imagining how I’m lying in the warm on the warm sand

I remember how I used to jump into the water

enjoy the chirping of birds

I’m letting goodness to pour down from

the top of my head down my spine towards the feet

you remember that I call energy goodness

goodness beauty have flown next to my shoulder

lizard bugs

dignity of everything that is moving

everything is moving

dancing

love-kissing

languages are dancing with each other

they are drinking their own juices

through the blood vessels they are feeding whole body with goodness

grace within the cells

little butterfly on the path

a crow is cowing high in the tree top

a lump of moss has fallen from the tree

across from that ants have made their path

deep in the woods a rooster crows

bees are drinking water from a little paddle on the path

million happenings on each square inch of the ground

water of the lake smells good

if I don’t go for a swim I will at least step into it

when I came to the shore a big frog jumped into the water

I’m taking off my sandals socks and insoles

I stepped into the water

it’s cold

if I go for a swim I will grow in my eyes

I went for a swim

it was marvellously cold

it was prickly

coldness was feeling nicer and nicer and it was warmer and warmer

afterwards I laid down on the warm pebbles

two-three times I moved a bunch of pebbles on my prostate to warm it up

I’m crying from joy because I was in the water

to be in the ground

to be in water

to be in the air

to be in the light

to be within self

within God

God

I’m standing and watching a fly on the rock

self-massaging and self-caressing

gentleness is goodness

goodness is a good boy who asked me yesterday please

do You know where is a playground around here. and when I showed

him that it’s just twenty yards away he turned around and poignantly thanked me

goodness is a content of beauty – beauty is a form of goodness

from last night’s rain the path through the woods is wet again

greenery is greener

I’m thinking of the painters who were painting only with paints

dew on the grass is shimmering

from last night’s rain the temperature of the air dropped so there is no swimming today

wind is miraculous

so is that wooden stick on the pebbles

for few days now boat races are taking place on the lake

rowers are rowing

wind is miraculous

slow walking is miraculous

transformation is miraculous

the Transformation that I gave to one person to transform is miraculous as well

miracle is a priori

transformation before the transformation

wavy

wave after wave

snooze me snoozing

smile me smiling

I’m dragging my sandals over the asphalt in glory of insouciance

ice-cream selling man is eating ice-cream

four boys are jumping over the bouncy tires

sun is shimmering on a little green bug which is crossing my way

it’s nice to be pensive

to drift away

to get out of oneself and let the body rest and walk on its own

mind of mine rest my soul

soul of mine rest my body

body of mine may my mind and my soul find tranquillity within you

I’m lifting this body in glory of all bodies

I’m lifting this soul in glory of all souls

I’m lifting this mind in glory of one and only mind

I love-kiss You God I love-kiss You

let’s go

into the deep cold water of the warm day

I was swimming today as well

first I was lying on the warm pebbles

I was an infant in the arms of grace

being was flowing through me

I was the very being

I was the very grace

being grace

I wanted to share that with You

with somebody

anybody

everybody

I got up and went into the water

the grace of warmth was replaced by the grace of coldness

I was swimming slowly and watching into the sky and all of that happened with You

with somebody

anybody

everybody

it’s nice to be in big water

in one water in all water

I was resting

renewing

with brain

spine

with ohm

with moment

with pebble of the warm day

with apricot of sweetness

enjoyment is a holly duty

enjoyment is milk of goodness

through enjoyment cells are resurrecting

here

I’m going

mowed grass smells good

a girl who is passing by me is drinking coffee

while walking and smiling to somebody within herself

rain has washed the air

I’m surrendering to the greenery to the wind in blueness of the sky

Jasuka and Zeljko are coming for a visit today

Jasuka has translated my Autobiography

and How Come This is in My Hands to Japanese

pure calligraphy

picture of poetry

that’s me walking towards you

yesterday I didn’t do the Solemn Sunday Lunch of All Beings and I won’t do it for a while

I would like to rest outside on Sundays

in God’s hanging around

to walk a bit into nowhere

to stare

to dawdle

to enjoy

enjoy

enjoyment is life’s enjoying in ourselves

life enjoys so that it can be enjoyed

life is free-of-charge

remedial

it’s fragrant

the art of living enjoys the life of art

enthralling slowness

a fourteen year old boy has stopped in front of the church and started praying

grass has grown to the knees

for the first time this year I’m watching roses

scorching hot sun in the end of the walking

in a short while I will see Jasuka and Zeljko

I’m always excited before the encounter

I would love to type in the blessings before they come

and then peacefully go towards them

from today in all blessings John Maeda will be present

a moment ago Zeljko draw my attention to him

I parted with Jasuka and Zeljko

I’m watching the top of an old walnut tree

sublime is in everything

I’m writing this blessing with the harmony of voice

a magpie has flown in front of me

I’m walking the streets of Bele Vode

I would really love to have an iPhone

to work with touch screens

to develop intuition

to the red roses on the fence of the Brace Vuckovic Street

I should patch the pocket of my jacket. it got ripped from the pencil which I’m holding in it

I’m enjoying the poppies and camomile

I will never stop wondering how poppies are beautiful

I will never stop wondering how anybody is beautiful

how good it is that something is beautiful

how beautiful it is that something is beautiful

good is good to me

beautiful is beautiful to me

good really needs beautiful

beautiful really needs good

I feel good I’m in goodness

I feel beautiful I’m in beauty

by the road

down the road

in the noise of cars

noise to the grass noise to me

green fruit of red cherries are bigger and bigger

Jasuka and Zeljko have been the first guests in the First House of All Beings

guests-hosts because in the house of all beings everybody is both guest and host

it was easy to dwell with them

I love to dwell easy

like a pit in a cherry

I in each I

I’m looking for a bench to sit and eat a banana

to write all today’s blessings outside in the air

there is a bench

and it’s also a bench with the kind of backrest I love

I’m sitting on the bench

I’m leaning my back

I’m watching the apartments of the building which is surrendering little concrete park

I don’t see anybody on the windows and balconies

does anybody see me

sun generated warmth relaxes me

everything is so beautiful

wind smells good

banana is melting in my mouth

I’m crushing it with my tongue so that I can better feel its taste

third bite

I always enjoy the tranquillity after everything being done

this is the tranquillity before I do everything

tranquillity so that I would do everything

fifth and last bite of the banana

turtledove coos from the top of the building

a pigeon has flown to the dove on the window of the eighth floor

I would love to enter any of buildings as little as possible

any cinemas. museums. galleries. libraries. bookstores. theatres. cultural institutions

cafés. banks. offices. post-offices. health centres. municipal buildings. shops

I love the building of openness

open skies of all-life

I’m getting up

I’m turning around towards the bench waving at it and smiling

it was good to me that bench

I turn around towards it once again

it’s made out of concrete with three green

boards for sitting and two green boards for the backrest

great poetry affirms and sings really everything

I picked up from the asphalt one red close-pick

cherry leaves are touching my forehead

I am a singer of the face

every face that comes towards me

every face is a blessing

traces of life

ex beauties – future old people

everything is written on the face

face novel

hey thymes along the road

white roses

creaking of a tram in a curve

I’m reaching out with my fingers through the air – I feel Your soul is soft

misery of mind is that it wants to reign

ugliness of knowledge is that it wants to rule

mind discovers only when it admires

knowledge has sense only when it serves

smallest is the measure of everything

weakest is the support for everything

all my blessings are melodies of the day

all my blessings are harmonies of the night

sometimes day is nothing else but my dancer

sometimes night is nothing else but my singer

innocence is so exciting and calming

I’m greeting You railroad which I’m crossing

You smell of tar and nostalgia

it’s nice to know that everything is water

I’m using these days to swim some more in the cold water

it’s nice to know that knowledge also yearns for singing

it’s nice to know that admiration is not knowledge

it’s nice to know that serving is a bud of freedom

it’s nice to know that the art of serving is serving the smallest and weakest

it’s nice to experience that in each blessing of mine You can

drink feed Yourself sleep and that there is also money for You in it

it’s nice to experience that love prints new money

it’s nice to experience that creation gives birth to the life itself

shimmering of the snail’s trace

bucket full of still water

rotten board on the edge of the well

willow’s wicker awaits for the knitted baskets

traces of the tea on the table

beams of light from river boats are streaking across the banks in the dark

dried out rose petals

knotted bread basket

smell of hemp throws

sticking to the big tree trunks

lacing-up the sneakers

smell of knees

boat is detaching from the bank and surrendering to the water maelstrom

secret signs on the body

hand on the stomach

taste of peanuts

panties in the grass left from the intercourse

thighs of health

joy of the throat

sisterhood

dust

husband of plants

bottom of the peak

an Indian

satisfied clit

hot pebbles

cold water

fellow travellers by bravery

all the words in a smile

wording

is everything that words are doing to all beings called like that

deep goodness

beauty of a snail

immortality and glory to all snails that I accidentally stepped on

red cup is taking from the bucket full of still water

yesterday in this place Mirjana Lukic renewed injury of the calf muscle on her left leg

on the road to the woods and swimming we were

crossing the road where it’s not supposed to be crossed

a car showed up behind the curve in huge speed

we run and Mirjana’s muscle ruptured again

may all of that be good for her

god-fearing

insouciant

reasonless

today I was swimming on my own

I felt mild fuckability of big nostrils

I remembered mildness in the saying being smaller than a poppy seed

I was daydreaming of the sound of coins falling

on top of the coins of compassion all around the Planet

water in the lake is warmer and warmer

maybe I’ll go in the evening for a swim as well since

tomorrow will be much colder and there won’t be swimming for few days

I also washed the linen today instead of tomorrow so that it could dry in the sun

do You remember washed laundry which is drying outspread over the grass

thumb and index finger joined in a circle

everything prickles from early sexuality

everything flickers in calm sexuality

life surrenders to life

heart that beats in Your chests supplies blood to all beings

Mo

Mo is a beauty from Canada whose photo I’ve been sent to one of these days

Mo lives alone

Mo is thoughtful and with her thoughtfulness she guards the world

Mo is grass

Mo the sun

I’m waving to Mo – Mo is waving to all beings

some other Mo – Monika Seles – who helped me a lot with

her bravery as a girl before the Rose of Wandering lives in the USA

one is Mo

world is saved

warmth of washed linen smells beautifully

after the spinning I will spread the second washed batch

it will be dry by the evening

the one that is outspread over the grass will also get dry

Transforma into different samenesses

love for Djordje Markovic Koder

only ten days till the beginning of writing the new 144 Definitions of Art

all 144 definitions will be about freedom

first I’ll write Art is freedom – then hit it

rain in the landscape

poem

of

the

rain

in

the

landscape

I don’t know what’s more beautiful

rain in the landscape

or

poem of the rain in the landscape

beauty of the difference of the same

it’s raining

I can’t go outside because I have only one pair of walking shoes and

they are water permeable so if I get really wet they won’t dry till tomorrow

I’m waiting for rain to stop

I washed the floors

cleaned the keyboard with alcohol

I hope that the weather will clear up in the afternoon and that it will stop raining

waiting for the rain to stop is a great event

I’m imagining people who were waiting under some eaves for the rain to stop

who were enjoying in watching or going through their memories

after the rain snails and earthworms fill the paths and roads

plants start growing

waters raise a river level

nostalgia gets bigger

rain raining rain

get really rainy

rain

get my collar up

open me up to the surge

set me free for young water

wash birds’ wings

refresh snakes’ skin

fill the caravans

make red roses red

rain girl of mine

rainy

poem

of

mine

it’s raining today as well

existence is raining

hey rain is existing

and here is love between nouns and verbs in this rain

naming by noun

verbalising by verb

guarding a guard

loving a lover

philosophising philosopher

believing believer

traveling travel

rosing a rose

stepping a step

discovering discovery

gracing the grace

alling all

oneing one

braving bravery

thinking a thought

existing existence

raining rain

bowing down to bow down

kissing a kiss

I just thought of stopping this sequence but

a new pair of verbs and nouns have opened up for me

lettering a letter

conscienceing conscience

consciousnessing consciousness

to open opening

to surrender to surrendering

to rejoice to rejoicing

healing the health

freeing the freedom

budding a bud

 today it stopped raining

asphalt became white

it’s cloudy but it’s not raining

I enjoy more and more the beauty of snails

they move slowly like big space ships

I feel they radiate great wisdom

economy

arch-language

the grammar of primeval language is love

grammar without love is nothingness

grammar of snail language is my grammar

grammar of vulnerability

grammar within language not the grammar about language

knowledge within snail not the knowledge about snail

ascent

with the wings of all-love

Universe in the palm of a hand

snail sees everything

snail snail put out your horns

gramma of love is cooing through love

the art of tenderness

life of life

alive alive

a

l

i

v

a  l  i  v  e  v  i  l  a

v

i

l

a

conversations between Mo and a robin

word worm

words tweets

in the heart of a snail the heart of a robin

in the heart of a robin Universe

in the heart of the Universe the heart of primeval language

in the heart of the primeval language the heart of grammar

in the heart of the grammar the heart of love

in the heart of love heart of Miroslav Mandic

this morning something plunked heavily in the apartment. I jumped out of the bed

shelves in the cupboard fell down from the heaviness of

the works and collapsed together with everything underneath them

just calmly

through the very language

through myself

through the noun name

through the verb verb

through the guard of a guard

through the lover of a lover

through the philosopher of a philosopher

through the believer of a believer

path through a path

rose through a rose

step through a step

discovery through a discovery

grace through grace

everything through everything

one through one

bravery through bravery

thought through a thought

existence through existence

rain through rain

bow-down through a bow-down

kiss through a kiss

letter through a letter

conscience through conscience

consciousness through consciousness

opening through an opening

surrendering through surrendering

joy through joy

health through health

freedom through freedom

bud through a bud

money is love

love is money

money-love

as Tibika Varady my Mibi would say

money-love is poem

Poems I’m writing – mainly short, which require endless

polishing – often remind me of chess games. Their success depends

on that whether words and images will be properly deployed, and their end

must have inevitability and surprise of an elegantly given checkmate.

Charles Simic

beauty of the beginning is the same to the beauty of the end

beauty of the beginning is the same in each

particle and moment from the beginning to the end

Parmenides

for me poem is constant singing and dancing

path

rose

opening through each word

opening of each word

it’s nice that chess is called chess and not mate

three brooms and a ball leaned on the wall

poem ripens in old age

old poets are faith hope and love

I love the centre of the city because of the beggars

i

love

you

unrecognisable

poem

i

kiss

your

hands

it’s

a

poem

i’m

telling

you

to

come

it’s

a

poem

hostel

in

an

old

building

it’s

a

poem

a

book

by

teréz müller

true story

it’s

a

poem

reading

biography

of

steve jobs

by

walter isaacson

that

is

waiting

for

me

it’s

a

poem

i’m

crossing

the

street

with

other

people

it’s

a

poem

in

few

days

linden

will

start

scenting

it

will

be

a

poem

patiently

and

slowly

it’s

a

poem

you

start

holding

your

pussy

and

you

say

it’s

a

poem

cooked

buckwheat

is

waiting

for

me

it’s

a

poem

from

my

heart

in

your

heart

is

a

poem

the

moment

in

which

you

called

me

is

a

poem

don’t

think

you’re

a

poem

I would love if Arti would bring flowers to lovely Mo every month

I really love the first coming into the air of the day

I feel the wind over my face and body

grass is here

path is in my feet

I belong to everything and everything is within me

deflated green ball for children

woman in the window is watching her flowers

with the smile on my face I intake the sense of the life itself

I just remembered Petrovic family from Beska. I watched them last night on TV

http://media.rtv.rs/sr_ci/5kazanje/2598

program about Petrovic family begins after the twenty first minute and in the end of the program they sing one more song

father Dragan with his three sons

Radovan eleven year old accordion player

Dejan twelve year old bass guitar player

Dragan seven year old guitar and future violin player

father plays double bass

they all sing

mother left them

I was crying God’s tears all the time while watching and listening to them

they filled my heart with love

I’m starting to cry now as well

I love-kiss You God I love-kiss You

I haven’t felt such amount of love for a long time

with their love Petrovic family are feeding the world with love

here comes the first smell of the linden tree of this year

everything is only now

everything is for the first time

their eyes are black like coal

they are in striped suits

in white shirts with ties

little big people

elite and commercial music are kitsch and

bulshit compared to the music of Petrovic family

rejoice world Petrovic’s are alive and they sing

I am the happiest man in the world

said the father because his wish to have children came true

I haven’t seen enough of you

I haven’t kissed enough of you

so quickly everything passed

I have lost you now

it was touching how in the end of the song youngest son turned towards his father

when I felt wind from the balcony and when I saw it carrying branches

and trembling in leaves I felt tenderness to the point of complete identification

I am everything

my mind is bathing in greenery of the horizon

open grey-blue sky is coming down into my heart

one girl is petting a white street dog

enjoying the life itself is revolution

achieved paradise

girl is trying to tie the left back leg of the dog

linden tree underneath my balcony is swaying like a ballet dancer

young leaves on a big birch is shimmering

I don’t see the wind but I feel it in my smile

wind is fluttering through my hair and the dress of the girl who’s helping the white dog

girl is carefully looking at his paw which he is licking

she is asking him to come with her

she runs her fingers through her hair and goes on her own down the street

the dog was laying there for a bit and then ran in the opposite direction

the landscape in the end of the city is green made out of light green in the front

to the dark green in the horizon which touching the sky is turning into the blue

Van Gogh was wonderfully painting with words as well

half empty yellow bus is going up towards Pozeska Street

after the yellow bus an orange one full of soil

the pleasure that warm wind gives is indescribable

I’m off to shave myself for the wind

I came back shaved to the balcony

the wind is even more exciting

trees are enjoying immensely in the wind

they are playing – they feel good

enjoying each other

like I in You and You in I

like You-I in I-You and I-You in You-I

the wind in the blessings is turning the blessings into the wind

pigeon is pecking in the grass

paper collector is pushing the cart

a crow is flying down to the electricity pole

I am tired after twelve kilometres of walking

my Achilles’ tendons are sore so is my left heel

I also feel tiredness in my thighs in my back and neck

I’m happy

I’m carrying on with blessings

music is caressing me

I’m hungry

boiled rice two tomatoes mayonnaise and Smoki (peanut flips) are waiting for me

a month ago I started loving Smoki when I realised it’s with peanuts

I’m sleepy

I’m struggling for each blessing

I’m yawning but writing

from time to time I’m stretching my Achilles’ tendons

bending my neck

I’m yawning like a lion

I’m thinking of white rocks on mountain tops

of transformation of sex into love and love into the art of sex

valleys into tops

tops into valleys

eye to eye

eye

to

eye

e

y

e

e  y  e  to  e  y  e

e

y

e

blessing into blessing

previous blessing excited me a lot

same into same

wow

it’s slightly raining

slight rain is blossoming of the rain

source of joy

rains are blossoming in the spring

spring of blossoming is in not-giving-up

in that divine at once

at

once

that

one

goes

into

the

at

once

that

at once that: how would it be to go to Baikal Lake

Vera wrote to me yesterday

at

once

that

to

go

into

at

once

that

I answered her immediately

at

once

that

to

go

into

that

at

once

immediately and at once

everything that is from one is accepted at once

I love everything that comes from the one

I love everything that goes once

tomorrow I’m starting to write new 144 Definitions of Art

from the number 1009 to the number 1152

I will be writing them all at once

they will be dedicated to Julian Assange and

all of those who are fighting for freedom of all people

to the Occupy movement and washing with freedom

to my beloved Wittgenstein and one of his beautiful thoughts

God save me from mental health

to my beloved Petrovic family for who Bra wrote to me yesterday in e-mail

I watched the segment about Petrovic family from Beska –

I wished to organise the wedding just to call them to play!

I love-kiss You my Bra

like every year I will be writing them from 24^th May to 4^th June

for twelve days twelve definitions of art each day

at once

rain is drizzling

I’m also drizzling

children who are coming back from the school

are watching me squatting and taking photos of grass

tomorrow I will take the last one out of the Thirty Three Photos of Grass

in my right hand is camera in left voice recorder

each blessing as well as all 76213 blessings

written so far are the reason I love Ludwig Wittgenstein

each blessing is unreasonableness through which I love-kiss everything

I’m walking – I’m unreasonably happy

I started the Rose of Wandering from the grave of William Blake

the next day I was on the grave of Ludwig Wittgenstein

that’s how the Rose of Wandering begun

there was seven white roses that day on Ludwig Wittgenstein’s grave

I was standing in front of his grave a lot longer than I thought

I was in deep trance of binding and identification

I experienced even deeper that

wonderful life Ludwig Wittgenstein says he lived