Bog Miroslav Mandić Bog

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    416909

    bud

    FIRST OF OCTOBER TWO THOUSAND AND TWELFTH

    2831. day
    1st October 2012


    first of October

     

    thirty degrees Celsius

     

    people say that ever since the temperature

    has been measured there wasn’t so many warm days

     

    light mist is alleviating the sunlight

     

    the bells of midday love are ringing

     

    let’s go slowly

     

    slowly and gently

     

    pigeons are pecking in the grass

     

    my thighs are singing

     

    I’m thinking about death

     

    poor boy is chopping the wood in front of his house

     

    the mist is gone and now the day is hot

     

    maybe I could go for a swim

     

    nothing is worse in this world than conservatisms

     

    nothing more obscene than traditionalism

     

    I took off my shirt

     

    my armpits are wet

     

    I hear myself pronouncing these words

     

    forty years ago I read Somerset Maugham’s The Razor’s Edge

     

    tonight I’ll start reading it again

     

    soon I will start reading again The Narration of One God Searcher

     

    it’s hot it’s hot this Indian Summer

     

    I’m watching the leaves falling

     

    I lifted my arms and I’m drying my armpits in the sun and wind

     

    I’m enjoying myself like a horse

     

    in You myself

     

    in everybody myself

     

    in myself of myself for Yourself

     

    in myself of myself for all beings

     

    I had a swim

    inexplicable pleasure

     

    water was as ever so loyal

     

    watery and loveable

     

    with my bare torso I’m getting out of the last blessing

     


     

    BR OF LOVE

    2832. day
    2nd October 2012

     

    brain of love

     

    whirls

     

    swirls

     

    meanderings

     

    gardenings

     

    grass blade by grass blade

     

    hair by hair

     

    particle by particle

     

    brain of love hugs all brains

     

    brain of love love-kisses all brains

     

    brain of love sings lullabies to all brains

     

    life is full of love

     

    love is full of life

     

    I will be swimming today as well

    swimming was like in the North Sea

     

    eating raw food

     

    loving everybody who I love

     

    loving everybody who I will love

     

    loving those who are still to be born

     

     

    loving

    this

    song

     

     

    loving oxen

     

    loving cows with oxen within them

     

    wheels which are turning

     

    hills which are taking off

     

    wrinkles around the lips

     

    freckles on the shoulders

     

     

    loving

    this

    song

    as

    well

     

     

    whirling swirls

     

    swirling meandering

     

    meandering gardening

     

    brain of love resurrects all dead

     

    brain of love resurrects all died loves

     

    brain of love harmonises all loves into one and only all-life

     

    brain of love unites all lives into one and only all-love

     

    HOWEVER AND JUST

    2833. day
    3rd October 2012


    nostalgia is God

     

    nostalgia God

     

    earthworms are so gentle

     

    tree bark is so beautiful

     

    vineyard peaches are so sweet

     

    two hundred years ago there was no wooden lampposts which are making me nostalgic

     

    in two hundred years there will be no lampposts at all

     

    seventy or so years ago tape recorders didn’t

    even exist and by now they already stop existing

     

    earthly nostalgia are connected to the space and time

     

    to childhood and early surrounding

     

    to parents and first impressions

     

    morning light in the windows

     

    the very windows

     

    fog and frosting on the windows

     

    earthly nostalgia is illness

     

    godly health

     

    every youngling in God’s embrace

     

    it’s cloudy. that’s how I’m writing. cloudy

     

    I could go crazy from poppies and how I yearn for them

     

    from the first touch

     

    from the first kiss

     

    from the first entrance

     

    for two days now I have unknown pain in my

    left thumb which I have no one to tell about but You

     

    You my yearning

     

    smell in the horse stables

     

    fresh smell of cleaned room

     

    geese roosters hens and turkeys

     

    bread put in hot milk

     

    bread with margarine spread

     

    sweetness of fruits

     

    running

     

    bicycle

     

     

    however

    only

    and

    just

    god

     

    EIGHTY THOUSANDS AND MORE AND MORE

    2834. day
    4th October 2012


    next fourteen blessings are about counting

     

    counting buzzing

    (in Serbian these words are very similar: “brojanje” and “brujanje”, T.N.)

     

    buzzing singing

     

    words are buzzing to numbers

     

    numbers are singing to words

     

    throughout centuries

     

    words are beautiful from numbers

     

    numbers are good from words

     

    they are both one

     

    countless and endless sequence of numbers lies in the number one

     

    countless and endless orb of words sings and buzzes in the first word

     

    God

     

    until the eighty thousandth blessing comes

     

    80000

    80000th blessing in which all by now 79999

    blessings are as well as all future 49600 blessings

     

    I love words more and more

     

    I love numbers more and more

     

    I love the word itself more and more

     

    I love the number itself more and more

     

    more and more I love more and more

     

    I love more and more these eight words

     

    I love more and more Lhasa de Sela

     

    I love more and more that You love more and more Lhasa de Sela

     

    we are one in Lhasa de Sela

     

    we are one in Billie Holiday

     

    one in Mohamed Bouazizi

     

    one in Julian Assange

     

    one in the Pussy Riot

     

    one in a runaway child

     

    one in a good boy

     

    one in the one and only mathematics of language

     

    one in the one and only language of mathematics

     

    one in the one and only loyalty

     

    loyal love for the one

    bud

    God

     


     

    35TH TIME LAO TZU. GOD AND LITTLE POEM

    2835. day
    5th October 2012

     

    There is no greater catastrophe than to underestimate the enemy.

    To underestimate the enemy might entail the loss of my treasures.

    Therefore when two equally matched armies meet,

    It is the man of sorrow who wins.

    Lao Tzu in the Chapter 69

     

    My teachings are very easy to understand and very easy to practice,

    But no one can understand them and no one can practice them.

    In my words there is a principle.

    In the affairs of men there is a system.

    Lao Tzu in the Chapter 69

     

    God

     

    God God’s God

     

     

    i’m

    however

    only

    god’s

    god

     

     

    God in God

     

    God in everything

     

    God in a little poem

     

     

    god

    little

    poem

    is

     

     

    small song

     

    bowing to all little poems-small songs is

     

    little poem-small song leafage is

     

    little poem-small song solitude is

     

    little poem-small song a woman is

     

    little poem-small song a man is

     

    little poem-small song fingers over brows is

     

    little poem-small song fingers over the strings

    of one and only soul in one and only little poem-small song

     

    little poem-small song swallow is

     

    little poem-small song uncatchable swallow flight is

     

    little poem-small song for the first time the only path is

     

    little poem-small song for the first time each path is

     

    little poem-small song the last time-path the first time-path is

     

    little poem-small song vetar is

     

    little poem-small song vetar in the wind is and wind in the vetar is

    (vetar means wind in Serbian, T.N.)

     

    little poem-small song licking of tongue-language by language-tongue is

     

    little poem-small song penis is

     

    little poem-small song through fuck is

     

    little poem-small song little chapel to everybody is

     

    little poem-small song a pillow for everyone is

     

    little poem-small song through penis is

     

    little poem-small song though walking

     

     

    little

    poem

    through

    god

     

     

    little

    poem

    god

    to

    god

    is

     


     

    DON’T GIVE UP SATURDAY

    2836. day
    6th October 2012


    save me every day

     

    every day protect me from Yourself

     

    every day walk with me

     

    every day hey every day

     

    every day street dogs

     

    every day good

     

    good through beauty

     

    I’m pulling my shoulders inward

     

    I’m twisting myself

     

    I’m gathering the space within me

     

    I’m condensing the time into eternity

     

    I’m singing poetry

     

    I’m dancing existence

     

    I’m a singer of the hotel of life

     

    a dancer of the art of hotel I am

     

    I’m a hotel to the great singers and dancers

     

    everyone who walks every day singer is

     

    everyone who walks every day poem is

     

    everyone who lives every moment dancer is

     

    everyone who lives every moment dance is

     

    through the fields of possibilities

     

    through the paths of sameness

     

    I’m singing dancing

     

    I’m dancing singing

     

    I’m bluesing the air

     

    I’m watching the photos of Janice Joplin as a little girl and I’m crying

     

    hey crying

     

    cry me beauty

     

    cry me goodness

     

    cry me hunger of the starving ones

     

    cry me thirst of the deprived ones

     

    cry me freedom in jails

     

    cry me and every day save me my joy oh joy

     


     


     

    86 TIMES 33 DAYS

    2838. day
    8th October 2012


    wind is moving dry leafage in the grass

     

    I’m standing in the middle of a sunlit field

     

    peace

     

    peace feels good

     

    a small and a big fly are flying above the grass

     

    when a dry leaf starts trembling on the ground I think it’s a mouse

     

    meaning of life is in the life of meaning

     

    life of meaning is in the life with thoughts

     

    thoughts

    such a wonderful word

     

    silky

     

    like this little path

     

    I love thoughts

     

    thoughts that think

     

    thoughts that create

     

    thoughts that sing

     

    I love to think and think actually of that how I love to think

     

    I also love not to think

     

    just to exist

     

    I also love thoughts which are not thinking but just existing

     

    like this soil full of fallen leafage acorns and pinecones

     

    like this crow just before taking off

     

    she was looking at me and looking at me and then she took off

     

    thoughts are music

     

    music which is walking

     

    I’m walking thinking talking writing singing

     

    I’m walking thinking talking writing singing I exist

     

    I’m walking thinking talking writing singing You exist

     

    I’m walking thinking talking writing singing we exist

     

    it’s disturbing how everything that was already thought is created and sung

     

    it’s kindling how repetition is unrepeatable

    and how everything that is always is for the first time

     

    first time is the one and only lasting

     

    last me last me lasting

     

    I’m lasting You I’m lasting You love


     

    MEOWING

    2839. day
    9th October 2012


    I am a poem of singing

     

    I am a fairy-tale of creating

     

    I am music of walking

     

    I am a poem of singing – says the poem of singing to me

     

    I am a fairy-tale of creating – says the fairy-tale of creating to me

     

    I am music of walking – says the music of walking to me

     

    we love You poem of singing

     

    we love You fairy-tale of creating

     

    we love You music of walking

     

    poem is a fairy-tale to music

     

    fairy-tale is music to a poem

     

    music is a poem to a fairy-tale

     

    everybody is something to somebody

     

    something is everything to somebody

     

    only the wholeness is honourable

     

    being honourable is only being everything

     

    love-kissing and incomprehensible everything

     

    very incomprehensible all is one

     

    everything that is not everything is sorrow

     

    I’m everything and I’m really happy

     

    I’m smiling at today’s blessings

     

    I wink at air

     

    I hop to immortality

     

    little green pieces of glass are shimmering by the path

     

    a bee in the trash container is collecting honey

     

    I sat on the bench

     

    turned my back to the sun

     

    leaned my hands on the backrest

     

    I’m talking to God

     

    I’m telling him through His words

     

    He responds with my words

     

    we are the same

     

    just like You and me

    in the First House of All Beings first oat porridge in my life is waiting for us

     



     

    NOT A WORD MORE

    2840. day
    10th October 2012


    I’m

     

    a

     

    word

     

    which

     

    is

     

    playing

     

    with

     

    itself

     

    and

     

    doesn’t

     

    stop

     

    and

     

    will

     

    never

     

    stop

     

    because

     

    playing

     

    is

     

    fairness

     

    and

     

    fairness

     

    is

     

    nothing

     

    else

     

    but

     

    goodness

     

    and

     

    beautiful

     

    fucking

     

    of a couple

     

    which

     

    is

     

    one


     

    FIFTEENTH OCTOBER

    2841. day
    11th October 2012


    by principles

     

    by heroism

     

    by all-life in the spine of all-life

     

    by finely finelying

     

    by tears which are love-kissing the tears of those who are in tears

     

    when I was reading Lao Tzu in 1969 I didn’t know I will live by principles

     

    belief in path makes rose from path

     

    principle of fairy-tale-like is of the first principles

     

    living life like fairy-tale

     

    finelying finely

     

    alone for everybody

    I love you because you are alone for everybody – says a woman who loves a man who is alone for everybody

     

    on fifteenth October I will be walking for the Occupy movement

     

    the Occupy movement is the most innovative and the most universal

     

    planet Earth needs a hymn of unity and agreeing

     

    all experiences and knowledge based on the idea about enemy are outdated

     

    joining makes enemies and it’s outdated as well

     

    I will be walking the same as every day

     

    by the music of walking

     

    dancing

     

    innocence of ideals is eternal

     

    the ideal of innocence lives by each moment

     

    take a look at anything and look anywhere and

    You will see with which innocence what You are looking at is watching You

     

    loyalty of anything that exists is a condition of existence of both anything and anyone

     

    universe of tranquillity

     

    all peace of enthusiasm is everything You need my poem

    (universe in Serbian is “svemir” and it can be devided in two notions “sve” which is “all” and “mir” which is peace, T. N.)

     

    all peace of tranquillity is everything You need my fairy-tale

     

    all peace of introspection is everything You need my walking

     

    modesty of Universe

     

    sing me poem sing

     

    create me fairy-tale create

     

    dance me walking dance

     

    alone for everybody

     

     

    hey

    alone

    for

    everybody

    i’m

    yours

     



     

    A WOMAN WHO LOVES A MAN WHO IS ALONE FOR EVERYTHING IS SPEAKING

    2842. day
    12th October 2012

     

    hey Alone For Everything

     

    faith in love of love is a half

     

    love for faith of faith is a half

     

    your love creates me

     

    your faith makes me free

     

    landscapes are joining us

     

    agreeing is wedding us

     

    like-mindedness is taking us up towards infinity

     

    hey

    you

    Alone For Everything

     

    through you I’m everything as well

     

    when over my thighs

     

    down my spine

     

    over my palms

     

    down my throat

     

    you

    Alone For Everything

     

    were drifting

     

    sliding

     

    while I was walking behind you and watching you walking

     

    while I was watching you watching your poppies by the raod

     

    wheat fields

     

    sky blueness that was surrounding us with the horizon

     

    hey

    you

    Alone For Everything

     

    when I stopped being ashamed of you

     

    when I just felt what I haven’t yet spoken out

     

    when I got drunk from every word of yours

     

    when I cum with each your poem

     

    he-alone

     

    she-alone

     

    we are one

     

    path

     

    rose

     

    tremble

     

    God

     


     

    LOVE-KISSING IS THE CENTRE OF BEING

    2843. day
    13th October 2012


    a moment ago I fell in the bathtub while taking a shower

     

    I thought I didn’t break anything but I have a contusion of my ribs on the left side

     

    I feel pain when making certain moves

     

    I never fell in the bathtub before

     

    I should be more careful

     

    a body of a sixty three year old is not the same body as of a sixty two year old man

     

    I’m grateful I didn’t hurt myself more

     

    after all I will be able to go into Saturday’s dog-like wandering through the streets

     

    child-like joys are more and more alive in me

     

    discoveries

     

    ideals of youth

     

    discoveries in youth revelations in old age

     

    states of daintiness and fathomlessness

     

    atmospheres

     

    rain that is falling somewhere

     

    lifted up collar

     

    his steps

     

    her calves

     

    being

     

    just being

     

    being nobody and nothing

     

    while it’s raining

     

    when nobody is around

     

    being compassionate with the fallen ones

     

    love-kissing the rejected ones

     

    vowing to the imprisoned ones

     

    love-kissing everything

     

    love-kissing constantly

     

    love-kissing without any reason

     

    love-kissing insouciantly

     

    love-kissing the very love-kissing

     

    love-kissing is the centre of being

     

    15th October is on Monday

     


     

    HYMN OF FREEDOM OF ALL BEINGS

    2845. day
    15th October 2012

     

    i am god

    freedom of all

    beings is making

    me god-poem

    today’s poem i am god

     

     

    Ksenija was born on this day

     

    Nietzsche was born on this day

     

    on this day thirty two years ago

    I decided to get engaged in art again

     

    today I’m walking all beings

     

    today I’m creating all beings

     

    today I’m singing all beings

     

    we are one

     

    everybody has a home in every being

     

    everyone is immortal in all beings

     

    I’m drinking You up all-life

     

    autumn vermillion yearns for winter whiteness

    spring greenery and summer blueness

     

    eternity fills each moment with humming

     

    moment makes eternity through consciousness

     

    I would die from beauty I see in his eyes

    said to me young friend of mine yesterday

     

    adrenalin of all-love fills every word of freedom

     

    my beauty is based on beauty of the other

     

    my goodness is based on goodness of the other

     

    my freedom is based on freedom of the other

     

    beauty yearns for beauty of every being

     

    goodness yearns for goodness of every being

     

    freedom trembles with love for every being

     

    old poor woman is wearing a white rose in her hair

     

    freedom of all people depends only from me – ok – only from You and me

     

    midday – midday bells of love are ringing

     

    I’m walking the Hymn of Freedom of All Beings from Slavija to Kalemegdan

     

    with this walking from Slavija to Kalemegdan

    I’m pronouncing the Bud of Walking as the Hymn of Freedom of All Being

     

    that’s how after three years of walking with today’s 874th walking

    I came to the main idea for the First Time Second Ten Year Walking

     

    ten years of walking is the Hymn of Freedom of All Beings

    hey mother father woman children God this is Your miracle

     

    breathing feeling working thinking creating being singing through freedom

     

    solemnity and celebration of the Hymn of Freedom of All Beings is within everyday

     

    the Hymn of Freedom of All Beings is dedicated to Ksenija Nietzsche return to art and

    everyone who lives their freedom and freedom of all beings and freedom in every being

     

    I am the hymn of freedom of all beings


     

     

     

    HYMN OF THE SEX OF ALL BEINGS

    2846. day
    16th October 2012

     

    the day after the Hymn of Freedom of All Beings

     

    every day is the Hymn of Freedom of All Beings

     

    freedom of love

     

    little girl

     

    love of freedom

     

    little boy

     

    drops of tea in a white cup

     

    all shades of all colours

     

    I’m thinking truth

     

    I’m enjoying the tranquillity

     

    I’m enjoying the silence and warm wind

     

    I find it nice that you are thinking me – says the truth to me

     

    it’s true that I find it nice that you are thinking me – the truth carries on

     

    I’m happy with no reason and I’m sharing that right away with everybody

     

    with sour tree. with still green leaves on an old fig tree

    with a woman-gatherer of old paper who sat down to rest

     

    I’m walking only in a short sleeve t-shirt

     

    each of my everyday three hour walking contains two feature films

     

    I am an archetype of film heroes

     

    in my youth I was surrendering to the film heroes

     

    in time not only that I myself became a film

    hero but I am now an archetype of all film heroes

     

    if You were here and now with me You would live all those films

     

    however reading them You can see and experience them

     

    I’m enjoying the big plain tree leafs

     

    when making certain moves ribs on the left side of my back are hurting me

     

    trees have helped me a lot in my spiritual development

     

    with their beauty

     

    steadiness

     

    changeability

     

    sexuality

     

    sexuality of trees was calming and settling my sexuality

     

    Hymn of Freedom of All Beings is at the same time also Hymn of Sex of All Beings

     

    sex of all beings is sex of love and freedom of all beings

     

    sex of consciousness and conscience

    sex of every being with the sex of all beings

     

     

     

    SHIMMERING

    2847. day
    17th October 2012

     

    I’m thinking of Meher Baba’s silence

     

    in all photos his lips are closed

     

    a word alone is

     

    a word which only is

     

    sunny autumn day

     

    beauty of writing

     

    I love You Meher Baba

     

    words which only are they are like sacks full of sand

     

    green leaves are becoming yellow

     

    leafs are falling down in order to feed the tree

     

    words are going away in order to feed God

     

     

    god’s

    words

    to

    the

    god’s

    words

     

     

    word fish is

     

    word bird is

     

    word female-lover is

     

    word sound is

     

    word male-lover is

     

    word touch is

     

    word everybody is

     

    word somebody somebody is

     

    word rhythm rhythm is

     

    word cow cow is

     

    word by word friendship is

     

    words which just are like words which just are

     

    I know I get on Your nerves

     

    I am a whirlpool of nerves

     

    words are nerves

     

    energies

     

    I am God

     

    shimmering

     

    whirlpools

     

    whirlwinds

     

    wordmmering



     

    DANCE OF LIFE

    2848. day
    18th October 2012


    at fifty-seven, I felt old. now, at seventy-four, I feel much younger than I did then

    Jean-Louis Trintignant to Paul Auster

     

    as one gets older life is more and more beautiful

     

    the very goodness

     

    beauty of the life itself makes every being forever young

     

    one can constantly cum form the beauties of autumn colours

     

    constantly be in love from the touch of air

     

    being a constant prayer from faces of every woman

     

     

    i am god

    everyone who looks

    into the face of a woman

    has looked into my eyes

    today’s poem i am god

     

     

    I’m dancing

     

    sliding by words

     

    I’m spinning

     

    I’m holding an empty space by the waist

     

    we are spinning

     

    hips by hips

     

    leanings

     

    bendings

     

    hands and legs

     

    faces eyes

     

    bellies

     

    breasts

     

    butt cheeks

     

    shaking

     

    jumping

     

    sweating

     

    sparkle in the eyes

     

    heat in sexual organs

     

    loved we love

     

    back to back

     

    legs

     

    thighs

     

    radiance

     

    arch-trust

     

    innocence


     

    IN THE SUN IS WARM IN THE SHADE IS COLD

    2849. day
    19th October 2012

     

     

    a siskin is climbing up the window bars

     

    birds always exhilarate my heart

     

    one boy has climbed on the tree and another one throws fallen acorns at him

     

    young man is filling his car tank with gasoline from a bucket

     

    a worker is taking out of the truck his tools with which

    he will assemble new furniture in somebody’s apartment

     

    little white butterfly has just flew onto the grass blade

     

    a worker from municipal park and landscaping maintenance has just pricked

    a plastic bag in the grass and brought it towards a sack he’s carrying in his hand

     

    a worker next to the lifted up cars on a car lift

    in the auto repair shop has just shouted somebody

     

    for days now a young man is painting with

    white paint long metal fence around the car shop

     

    another young man with a cigarette in his

    mouth is talking with somebody over the phone

     

    an older man with a sweatshirt around his waist

    is chewing a gum and enjoying in the sun while waiting for the bus

     

    I love to love

     

    but I love the other because of him or her and

    not because of myself. isn’t it so my sparrows in the grass

     

    in the sun is warm in the shade is cold

     

    white traces of bird’s faeces have stuck onto the windshield of a car

     

    old trash bins are receiving new trash in them

     

    these large yellow quinces have drawn my attention as well

     

    armed security has stopped the pedestrians so

    that American embassy car could get into the embassy

     

    legal violence is billions times bigger than the illegal one

     

    men at the tables of a cafe bar are betting on sports like possessed

     

    I love the word I am because through it I really am

     

    I love the word love-kiss because through it I really love-kiss

     

    I love the word God because God is God

     

    I’m crossing on the sunny side of the street to warm myself a bit

     

    young woman threw something from her bag with contempt into a trash bin+

     

     

    with slow bites of a bannock I’m slowly climbing up the Balkanska Street

     

    from a crowd of people it’s hard to see somebody in the crowd

     

    while I was talking about the crowd of people a bee was flying around my voice recorder

     

    I’m talking writing

     

    I fucked this one that is standing in the shop window 

    – a man is pointing to the mannequin in the window

     

    I went into the centre of Belgrade in the morning sun

    I’m coming back from the centre of Belgrade in the afternoon sun

     

    I was socialising for four hours with Igor Lazin. we haven’t seen each other for ten years

     

    I’m walking slowly. warm sun rays are resting me.

    I’m surrendering to the tiredness which is carrying me

     

    SATURDAY STREET DOG

    2850. day
    20th October 2012


    I’m Saturday street dog

     

    young green shrubs are swinging in the wind

     

    from Cvetko’s Marker over Djeram and Vuk to the

    Knez Mihajlo Street then by the Train Station and Fair to Padina

     

    wanderer lover to everything and everybody on that road I am

     

    to the remembrance of my three year walking through the Boulevard

     

    the day is sunny and it’s easier for the dog and the wandering

     

    every day and all kinds of weather are good to the dog and the wandering

     

    thighs flanks hips

     

    long live my boy – says a disabled beggar to me

     

    living with plants – it’s written on a wall

     

    I’m recognising the faces of some people who I was seeing for three years

     

    street dog purifies everyone from selfishness

     

    if I wasn’t a street dog today maybe these days’ sadness would have crushed me

     

    I’m sad because differences among people are leading to violence

     

    I’m even more sad because the hypocrisy of similarities

    among people is spreading and throwing them into the abyss

     

    being happy I’m wagging my tail to the violence and the abyss

     

    man surrender to the life itself

     

    man do something in Your life

     

    without surrendering there is no love

     

    without undertaking there is no freedom

     

     

    without

    god

    there

    is

    no

    truth

     

     

    selfishness is the biggest mass killer

     

    it will do anything and kill everybody just to survive

     

    join my Saturday dog-like wandering in Your heart my love

     

    caress large leaves of plain tree the same way I’m doing it now

     

    everyone who doesn’t do what they should be doing knows that they don’t

    do what they should and knows what they should be doing but day don’t feel like doing it

     

    I’m wagging my tail over Your nose so that

    You can feel the happiness which is under Your skin

     

    while walking and wandering like a street dog I’m imagining

    how I’m joyfully wagging my tail in the heart of each being

     

    heart of every being actually makes my heart

     

    two women are collecting chestnuts in the grass in the Tasmajdan Park

     

    every word of a wanderer is The Hymn of All Beings

     

    I’m disobedient towards the selfishness – in absolute obedience towards love

     

    love for everything and all beings is transforming me in everything and all beings

    I love-kiss You I love-kiss You street dog of Saturday

     


     

    GOD-ENJOYING

    2852. day
    22nd October 2012


    I laid down on a wooden bench in order to write

     

    blue sky with no clouds

     

    a dog is panting in a passage

     

    grass is sprouting

     

    they say that after long hot summer and this warm autumn winter will be very very cold

     

    I’m breathing

     

    air is still cold but the sunrays are making it warmer and warmer

     

    I moved over to the other bench so that the warm bench boards warm me up

     

    my ribs are still hurting me

     

    there is nothing holier than the life itself

     

    anybody’s life

     

    hence my life as well

     

    that’s why writing about my life I’m writing about anybody’s life and about the life itself

     

    polyphony

     

    each word is the life itself

     

    because life is

     

    beauty life is

     

    in life is

     

    goodness life is

     

    is life is

     

    and life is

     

    goodness life is

     

    and life is

     

    beauty life is

     

    are life is

     

    one life is

     

    every being is good

     

    every being is beautiful

     

    every being knows who is goodness

     

    every being knows who is beauty

     

    every being is through God

     

    every being is to God

     

     

    god

    to god

    through god

    I am

     


    RIPPLING

    2853. day
    23rd October 2012


    the autumn vermilion which I saw from the bridge has brightened me up

     

    diligence of nature is gorgeous

     

    straight line on the bridge also excited and rejoiced me

     

    what is a change in the natural world it is a straight line in notions

     

    little houses on drafts are calming me

     

    wind over the river is colder and stronger

     

    one boat is floating down the stream. others are crossing from one bank to the other

     

    for few days now I’m struggling with myself

    until I saw autumn vermillion I couldn’t write anything

     

    now that I’m watching the river everything is good

     

    great. simple. sincere

    love for Tolstoy

     

    a boat which crossed to the other side of the river is already coming back

     

    this cold wind sure feels good

     

    four black dogs are lying around in the sun

     

    what saves me is that there’s no comeback

     

    comeback is in carrying on forward

     

    everything visible bares a trace of its time

     

    invisible is without traces and time

     

    sensory becomes and decays

     

    through the mind it resurrects

     

    previous four blessings I wrote standing next to the torn off yellow flower on the asphalt

     

    sometimes the only thing I can do for this world is to feel disgusted with myself

     

    feeling disgusted with ourselves liberates

     

    the surface of the river is rippling and shimmering

     

    rippled surface of the river is a watery Zen garden

     

    the law by which thing are is goodness

     

    the law by which all things are happening is beauty

     

    I really miss somebody

     

    since there is nobody I’m looking around myself and everything I see is somebody

     

    I am somebody who somebody really misses

     

    on a log which is floating down the river two seagulls are resting

     

    both seagulls have taken off and now around the log waves are spreading

     

    those waves are really good

     

    blessings actually are the waves by which beauty and

    goodness together are rippling on the surface of existence

     


     

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