Bog Miroslav Mandić Bog

here

here 

 

heroic time is always only the present

 

heroes of the past live only in the heroes of present

 

one is the hero

 

heart of freedom

 

I always loved to join in

 

through dancing

 

and

 

lead

 

in singing

 

alone

 

alone everybody

 

alone everything

 

a song of a fourteen year old 

 

with the song of a fourteen year old

 

going through every year of life with a song

 

with heroism 

 

with love

 

with the animal of life

 

with the basses of one and only heart

 

with the heart of freedom

 

freedom of all living creatures

 

freedom which throughout different times lives only in one and only being

 

being which was the only one to dare and sing the song of freedom

 

how just after one day of rain dried up grass from the drought gets green again

 

freedom sprouts like grass

 

punk grass

 

tears of my childhood

 

tears of my youth

 

tears in running

 

tears in swallows

 

tears are rolling through the freedom of all beings which love

 

tears of freedom in the tears of swallows

 

 

 dancing is joining

 

singing is leading

 

dancing is dialogue

 

singing is monologue

 

I would love to eat only raw food from today

 

without frying and cooking

 

it makes me joyful when I see people who are sun-gazing in the evening

 

they are standing still in the landscape

 

little suns

 

bread and tea

 

a man who randomly kills tithe of people is a monster

 

a soldier who kills thousands of people is a national hero

 

a man who robs a bank is a criminal and gets jailed

 

a banker who robs whole nations is a

dignitary and gets awarded with large sum of money

 

horror of civilisation

 

respectable citizens calmly produce and sell arms that will kill millions of people

 

all those killings are supported and by churches and by governments and by universities

 

that’s not my world

 

I’m joining the air

 

I’m singing the sun

 

I protect the soul

 

one is the soul

 

I caress the body

 

one is the body

 

I love words

 

one is the word

 

path

 

we are

 

dancing

 

butterflies are flying

 

little birds are flying into the hearts

 

indescribable beauty of paths in each leaf

 

life reaches each particle

 

 

 

come

 

come to me come

 

come to me come tenderness

 

come to me come pearly rain

 

come to me come violet greenery

 

come to me come my beloved Everland

 

come to me come I am a constant film of all-life

 

come to me come the same way Vuja was coming in a rain jacket

 

come to me come I am the one and only country

one and only nation one and only dance

 

come to me come to the daily bread of notions

 

come to me come to the tasty spreads of abstractions

 

come to me come to bathe in the waves of good vibrations

 

come to me come to Mosorin to walk across the Titel hill to Vilovo

 

hey fuck it to Vilovo next to the sand escarpment and swamps full of canes

 

then from little Vilovo to even smaller Lok

 

by that meadow and shadoof where I saw and

heard for the first time the whiz of a whip in the landscape

 

come to me come to watch how wolfs are mating

 

come to me come to see the boy Erstan

 

come to me come to walk for the freedom of Julian Assange and the Pussy Riot

 

come to me come to live for freedom of all imprisoned and oppressed in the world

 

world is again mercilessly sliding towards the great war catastrophe

 

people don’t want to renounce privileges and greed

 

people don’t want to be compassionate with those who differ

 

people don’t want to transform their selfish emotions

 

people can’t snap out of the numbness towards the beauty of the life itself

 

people can’t start believing in the light within themselves and surrender beloved to death

 

war is being overcome in ourselves

 

come to me come to overcome wars in ourselves

 

come to me come to be the backing for the harmony of all-being

 

come to me come so that the path wouldn’t be alone

 

come to me come so that nobody would be alone

 

come to me come so that the rose wouldn’t be alone

 

come to me come so that the bud of all beings grows in fragrances

 

 

 

 

as the oldest man in the world I’m saying no to the mankind

 

as just born God’s baby I’m saying yes to the God’s world of all beings

 

I’m the oldest man in the world because I’m all people that have ever lived

 

all people are alive in me

 

all yearning to resurrect in one and only love

 

love of just born God’s baby

 

no matter if they loved or hated

 

no matter that they were killing each other

 

no matter that in the end they are trying to kill the mankind itself

 

all of them will resurrect as just born God’s baby

 

hey how beautiful it is when lilac blossoms

 

hey how beautiful it is when linden starts smelling

 

hey how rotten leaves are beautiful

 

its sexuality confirms mine

 

hey how beautiful it is not to surrender to nostalgias

 

hey what a great wonder are big horse’s back

 

horse sweat on the horse back

 

hey how important it is to be ashamed for all my fake shyness

 

hey when I just think of sexual organs of all beings

 

hey when I recognize a beauty in the she-wolf

 

hey long sandy beaches

 

hey radiant Nietzsche’s words

 

hey Julian Assange

 

hey Pussy Riot

 

Julian Assange is the conscience of dying mankind

 

Julian Assange is the president of all people

 

my only president

 

hey ripe grapes

 

hey fibres of consciousness

 

hey thread of conscience

 

 

hey

orgasms

through

beauty

 

 

core of walnut in the whirlpool of rose

 

 

orgasms

through

beauty

hey

 

 

 fuck – Saturday again

 

warm

 

sunny

 

autumnally

 

I can’t get enough of air

 

I can’t wonder enough to the beauty of hips

 

fuck I’m the very fabric of all tendernesses

 

fuck I’m the very tenderness of all fabrics

 

fuck – Saturday again

 

warm

 

sunny

 

autumnally

 

easy poem

 

fuck we understand each other generally and in details

 

fuck I am the truth of nettles

 

fuck I am the smell of pepper

 

fuck I am the mambo of rhythms

 

fuck my name is Fuck

 

Fuck your name is beautiful Miroslav

You’re saying

 

fuck how beautiful is the word fuck

I’m saying

 

lilac-like

 

fuck I would never like if my joys would hurt somebody

 

but I also don’t accept if somebody questions the joy of all beings in me

 

fuck I’m only the language of tenderness

 

fuck tenderness of language

 

fuck how I would fuck you my dust

 

fuck this is flying

 

fuck – the vastness of agreeing

 

fuck – the dazed great-trust

 

fuck – the plain

 

tamburitzas and dulcimers

 

grace is very slow

may all of You be alive and healthy

 

fuck this Saturday as well fuck

I just thought if somebody could say hello to Radovan Hirsl and all eagles for me