Bog Miroslav Mandić Bog

A Book about the Blue Money

last night I saw Etela Merk on TV in her dog shelter

my Etela I hug You gently

good beings are fucking unselfish

fucking is openness

everything for everything

You already sound

You smell

I’m watching You

You’re glowing

I don’t have the words with which I would describe the beauty and goodness of pleasure

a friend started giving lessons in masturbation

it’s crisis. one has to live of something

everybody charges why wouldn’t I

business is good

people are calling. asking. coming

I’m not expensive

I immediately show them the pricing of masturbation

male sloe organ 400-450 dinars

female sloe organ 350-400 dinars

mold widening of organs 300-400 dinars

modifications of organs 850-950 dinars

gluing of organ’s tops 150-250 dinars

replacement of organ’s heels 800-900 dinars

hammering of organ’s heels 150-250 dinars

stitching of organ’s soles 300-450 dinars

gluing of organ’s soles 150-200 dinars

three years guarantee

clients are choosing the technique I’m using while putting sloes on organs

while I was working like a shoe-maker there was not enough for bread

now there is even for a book

for now I’m the first and the only one in the city

I’m working a bit

you should know what love loneliness and masturbation are

sometimes my friend I think I’m Jacob Boehme of the twenty first century

dedicated to my friend the shoe-maker and all good beings

I’m licking my lips

I’m a navel of Your immortality

love redeems death

Marinko Sudac called me after five years and made me really happy

one flower is more valuable than all the banks in the world – I said to Marinko Sudac

subordination is the most effective technique of power and success

for creation and poetry subordination is nothingness

only a poet creates an artist

only an artist writes of a poet

all beings live through poem

poem is created by an artist and wrote by a poet

work is written by a poet and created by an artist

Marinko – everything is so dear

Marinko – everything is so mild

Marinko – everything is so sweet

every movement of the body is called Rajka

every feeling is called Dusica

every thought is called Milica

every sigh is called Nada

every exhale is called Vera

an encounter is called Radojka

kiss Ljubinka

smile Ruzica

gift Darinka

fucking Nevena

courage Slobodanka

Marinko – the best ones are the worst because they are silent about

they lock up and kill the best one

Marinko – success is the greatest obstacle to creating and poetry

my love

I’m constantly saying my love to everything and everybody

I would love to say my love to everybody and everything

air is so mild

birds are surrendering to it with their spread wings

ten more days till 9^th November 2010

always till the end

the end is now

now is eternity

while walking calmly I’m thinking of 9^th November 2010 with great excitement

I walked half of the circle around the lake with Jelena. in the end I told her that she

should celebrate 9^th November with me on her own or with somebody

during the solemn lunch

Marinko Sudac phoned me yesterday and said

Miroslav I will call you every day from today

Marinko phoned me a moment ago and said

you went under my skin and into my heart with the Monday poem

I asked Marinko that instead of me he calls

somebody else every day so that the love would spread

I asked Marinko as well to celebrate 9^th November with me on his own or with somebody

I kiss your thoughts. your Milica

Milica sent me text message

you are kissing thoughts beautifully my love

I answered Milica

everything that exists is my love

today I’ll buy grapes

I haven’t eaten a lot of grapes this year

I adore grapes

an old gentleman took off his socks and set on the upper part of the bench

with the pencil in his mouth

I’m taking a photo of autumn vermilion

grapes of immortality with the immortality of grapes

I sent a text message to Zelimir Zilnik

on Saturday at half three on Zeleni Venac Zelimir and me

will have bread and grapes for lunch

Zelimir and me are having bread and grapes for lunch for few years now

come to eat bread and grapes

or potato broth when the grapes are gone and winter comes

come whenever

come no matter to who

come to the trees

God is love

You are love

poem is love

art is love

walking is love

I’m off

to the grapes to my love

five more days to 9^th November 2010

four more days till 9^th November 2010

I hope that 9^th November will be the most important day of my life until now

in order for 9^th November to be the most important day in my life until now

it’s necessary that every moment of my life is the most important

in order for every moment to be the most important in my life

it’s important that the moment of my death is such as well

in order for the moment of my death to be the moment when

all beings are rejoicing it’s necessary that I rejoice dying as well

in order to rejoice dying at the moment of dying I should be dying every day

every moment I’m dying and every moment I’m resurrecting but I’m rarely aware of it

Miroslav Mandic from the beginning of blessing

in the end of it is not the same Miroslav Mandic

in order to be identical with myself it’s necessary that I’m constantly changing

in order to be unchangeable it’s necessary to transform myself constantly

spiritually and creatively

one percent one percent

ten percent hundred percent

twenty percent hundred percent

thirty percent hundred percent

forty percent hundred percent

fifty percent hundred percent

sixty percent hundred percent

seventy percent hundred percent

eighty percent hundred percent

ninety percent hundred percent

ninety nine percent hundred percent

hundred percent hundred and one percent

life like and realistically

one percent one percent

ten percent ten percent

twenty percent twenty percent

thirty percent thirty percent

forty percent forty percent

fifty percent fifty percent

sixty percent sixty percent

seventy percent seventy percent

eighty percent eighty percent

ninety percent ninety percent

ninety nine percent ninety nine percent

I’m going to Sun’s but I’ll buy a wall clock on my way

because the other one is broken after all

you’ll find out who you are if you carry water

graffiti on a fence

I felt that You know I love You

every word of mine love-kisses You

when I read Miroslav Mandic I feel he love-kisses me

I haven’t found the clock but I had a nice conversation

with the salesman who I bought the clock from last time

in this shop as well the salesman was joyful and kind

he asked me immediately do I want a broken or proper clock

I bought the same one that I have in the living room. it cost only

190 dinars. the hands on the clock can be heard. there are no quiet ones

I have shallow sleep and I like to look through the room

and see what the time is on the big clock

while going down the Maxim Gorky street I’m permeated with wonderful modesty

God doesn’t need to be said who is God – watch Him hug Him love-kiss Him live Him

while walking up the Maxim Gorky street I’m smiling with no reason

a pigeon is flying in front of the bus

I’m walking really slowly through Pozeska street and enjoying

I’m like somebody

I’m like anybody

I’m hurt when somebody speaks bad things about me

faster and faster after that pain I feel pleasantness

those who are speaking bad things about me are also my love

calm from slow walking I saw and bought in the Chinese

shop beautiful silent clock for five hundred dinars

the one who love-kisses can do everything and wants to do everything

three more days till 9^th November 2010

this morning Werther killed himself

They are loaded – the clock strikes twelve! I say amen.

Charlotte, Charlotte! farewell, farewell! 

last Werther’s words I’ve read this morning

to celebrate love to celebrate

my celebrations throughout the year

1^st January

beginning of the year. since 2006 also the beginning of Miroslav Mandic book as well as

the third ten year picture of the Blue Rose and first ten year film Blue Film

7^th January

Little God’s birthday

2^nd February 

33^rd day of the year

8^th March 

decision to walk that I made in 1983

26^th March

Kaja’s passing away

24^th May – 4^th June

twelve days of writing 144 Definitions of Art

1^st June 

first June again

4^th June

Kaja’s birthday

6^th June

Milomir’s birthday

14^th July

beginning of the work One Man in 1971

9^th August 

decision to go the way of the sky in 1973

9^th August – 15^th September 

33 bows

15^th August 

Milomir’s passing away

15^th October 

decision to get engaged in art again in 1980

9^th November 

going to prison in 1972

going on the Rose of Wandering in 1991

9^th November 2010...

21^th November

Archangel Michael’s day

4^th December

birthday

25^th December

Little God’s birthday

I celebrate

Easter

four seasons

the moment I see first snowdrops

the moment I see first swallows

the moment I see first poppies

first baby potatoes

first lettuce

first swimming

first grapes

swimming across Danube

I celebrate modestly with joy in my heart

I celebrated with my close ones and I celebrated on my own

celebrating delights

I would love if You would celebrate 9^th November with me

wherever You are and whoever You are

to feel the peace in joyful soul and fervour in calmed mind

so Your body smells with health and ease

to feel the grace towards all beings and grace of all beings towards Yourself

so that every word is glory to itself and glory to the next one

I’m off to eat bread and grapes with Zelimir Zilnik

one more day till 9^th November 2010

I invite You to celebrate 9^th November 2010 with me

celebrate it in white

celebrate it more beautiful than ever

celebrate it braver than ever

celebrate it with those who You love

celebrate it with five hour fucking

with insight across the landscapes of Your soul

through thinking gently of the yearned for

with the words that You don’t dare but You want to say aloud

through celebratory drink accept the rejected ones

through celebratory mouthful feed the hungry ones

through celebratory hope fill in the hopeless ones

through celebratory right repay to the disempowered ones

unknown woman I adore You

unknown man I admire You

unknown I trust You

rain drizzles. I’m walking slowly. it’s not cold. I’m dozing off a bit

to be worthy of giving

I’m looking forward to the next day but I’m also a bit sad

because I’m almost always alone when something begins

if You knew Yourself You would have never addressed me like that

if You knew me You would have never sent me that

if You respected Yourself You would have apologised to me

if You loved Yourself You would have addressed me tenderly

I love-kiss love-kiss love-kiss You – once the closet one to me – now so unknown

every photo of Your pussy we would have sold

for 144 Euros and we would have lived eternally and like millionaires

younglings of all beings live in me and make me worthy of childhood

I bow to the dangers of growing up

I fuck with the dangers of living

twilight slowly falls

I’m leaving

another

word

or

two

mild glance

with

this

poem

I

declare

ninth

November

the

day

of

all

beings

313^th day in the year

2139^th day of Miroslav Mandic book

I was waiting for this all of these days

I lived that all these years

on 9^th November 1972 I went to jail. I was twenty three years old

and deadly crises were waiting for me. I didn’t know it will be my second birth

and after nineteen years

on 9^th November 1991 I went on the Rose of Wandering

ten year walking. ten year writing. ten year drawing

and after nineteen years

9^th November 2010 became the day of the birth of all beings

all beings got their day

all beings got their home

enough with hegemony

after thirty eight years it’s not necessary that I do anything but just to declare

peace peace

love love

immortality immortality

everything is my wife

I am husband to everything

all beings are my children

I’m outside. it’s cloudy but warm. I’ll be walking for a bit. in the Nest

I’ve left the table covered with white sheet on which there are two glasses

two plates and the candle. I would like to go back as soon as possible in order to have a toast to the birthday of all beings. I straightened up and I felt the singing of the

tattooed poem on my back

this

is

tattooed

poem

to

God

through

which

sings

God

I’m walking next to the lake. I’m thinking of the 9^th November 1972 in which I went to jail

I was a young wounded beast. declared guilty and sentenced to be shot

that day I woke up as a free man in the little apartment of Kaja Mandic in

Patrijarh Carnojevic street 19 in Novi Sad and I ended up disempowered

in the upper bed of the quarantine cell of the jail in Sremska Mitrovica

I’m watching the water of the lake and I’m thinking of 9^th November 1991 when

I went on the Rose of Wandering from London. everything that existed

depended just on me and one Blue Rose was waiting to be created

but I was the most powerless creature in the world

I begun at noon with the first step from the Earth and after ten years

of walking I managed to make the last step in the Universe

today on 9^th November 2010 I’m joyful because I saw by the lake

Little Vivacious Six Year Old Girl and because I just bought three autumn roses

they smell of childhood and celebrations that have guarded us from the miseries of life

those were the celebrations of heavenly life before death came

I’m sitting at the table and celebrating – I’m renewing the paradise in all beings

celebration is a heavenly state in which death doesn’t exist

to You

immortality of fucking confirms the fuckability of immortality

to me

9^th November 2010 opened me up for all days in the year. that singing is in front

of me. I will sing it from the spring next year in the fourth book of I am you are him...

to God

1^st January – day of the Buds of All Beings

8^th March – day of walking

4^th December the day of my birth – day of dancing

? the day of my death – day of singing

...

all

those

who

celebrated

today

with

me

are

my

body

soul

and

spirit

of

God

my

eternal

poem

through

which

I

kiss

you

with

all

beings

first day after 9^th November 2010 I love even more

Jean Jacques Rousseau and all those who I loved

fragile-like

free-like

god-like

I’m existing through years long – yesterday’s – labour of all beings

I’m empty. I’m walking like a leaf on the wind

one runaway child is joining my soul

I’m taking a photo of the green scarf carried by the wind

all-like

holly-like

fuckable-like

wind is really lilt

You and I love each other because we love sparrows

canes on the wind

not to do anything just to love-kiss each other

orgasm-like

loyally-like

immortally-like

few days ago I started reading Rebecca Solint’s book Wanderlust – A History of Walking

my name is I Would Love To Be You

I am fire and I never play with fire

my name is I Would Love If You Would Fuck Me

I am Universe and I’m constantly in the Universe

my name is I Would Love To Devote Myself To You

I am a road and I’m always travelling with one rose

I enjoy in those who surrender themselves to the others

I adore those who transform themselves into the others

I am transformation

dew-like

same-like

instantly-like

my name is You Love-Kiss Me With Your Words

bud-like

I’m watching a magpie flying across the sky

two sparrows are chasing each other from one tree to the other

I will button up the upper button on my shirt after all

I will cross on the other side of the street because of the change

I jumped on the pavement with no reason

like those two boys I also walk over the narrow roadside

practising the balance is a good thing

brain likes to be massaged

mind

mind-me

mind-me-art

a rat run into this hole

at first I felt few drops of rain on my face and then I saw it on the water

here is the rain on the asphalt as well

rain loves to be loved by me

I also love to love rain

for many years I’ve walked by the Danube – the water that runs

now I’m walking around the lake – the water that is still

a grebe came out of water with a little fish in his beak

I always thought of a lake as of an eye

a crow has put its beak in the bag with peanuts

a bee has flown down to the dandelion

there was a bee on the other dandelion as well

people with learning difficulties who are poignantly holding each other’s arms

are coming towards me

ten crows are walking around the woman who is sitting on the lakeshore

it’s expecting more food from her

this is the music of pebbles I’m walking over

I wrote the word pebble with blue pebbles and took the photo of it

trees are bare. it’s peaceful. it’s drifting into the dream

two grebes are fighting around the fish

two people are kissing on the path

a man approached a man who is peeling off the paint from the door and told him good work

and what did they do in the end – younger woman asks the older one

I saw Ivana off with a boat across the Sava. she went to Ada Medjica with friends

I’m coming back with a boat. I’m watching the water

it’s exciting crossing the river

only now when I took the photo of this

street lid I can write about what I feel sick of

last night a friend phoned me and conveyed a wish of a newspaper editor

that they would like to interview me about my trial and going to jail in 1972

I’m happy when somebody remembers me but I immediately refused

same way I refuse all other things

it always bothers me because by refusing I might hurt somebody and all I want is to

give much more through refusing. all of the other that I believe in and who I am myself

it bothers me also because I feel the isolation and condemnation

from people – that’s the danger I’m in

I said to my friend that going to jail is very important for me

because twelve years afterwards I went on Rose of Wandering

and then nineteen years later I declared The Day of All Beings

but same as back then people didn’t want to hear what I was writing and creating at that

time and they want it now – now they don’t want to hear what I’m writing and creating

now

I stop giving interviews and appearing in human public

when I encircled the planet Earth in 1998

ever since I’m in the Universe but nobody sees it

everything I would want to say in an interview already is in my books

my books are my interviews

what has inspired me when I was young inspires me even more

who I admired when I was young I admire even more

bad things I experienced in society when I was young now are even worse

if I was a twenty year old man today they would have imprisoned me today as well

prison is often the only place which is guarding us from the hypocrisy of human society

one of the persons that contributed to my imprisonment

is the father of one of the closest persons to me

she was born when I was twenty two. the same yeas I was writing

and creating things because of which I was imprisoned. I met her

thirty years later. she as well as that encounter are redeeming her father

another person that contributed to my imprisonment is today respectable and awarded

writer of civil society. he turns civil society into the society of hypocrisy and just a

screen for a guilty conscience of all of those who attacked the society

when it was created

in that interview I should have talked about the two of them

but I was in jail in order to learn how to fight with myself and to show with my

example that everybody should fight with their guilt and bad conscience

instead of the name of the first person I will say the name Miroslav Mandic

instead of the second person I will also say the name Miroslav Mandic

I didn’t want to write about all of this but the beauty

and the role of the red lid had opened me up

I would love to live in the society in which the world news would have been

the beauty and the role of the red lid are finally discovered

with deepest sympathy for people who died in catastrophes I would love

if news would talk about other beings also killed in those catastrophes

if I was a judge I would sentence all those judges that were judging by order

of the powerful ones and ideologists I would sentence all teachers professors

informants corrupted prominent people who lived from lies

thank god I’m not a judge. and thank to the fifteen year old young boy who was

disgusted over army and power otherwise I would also become great criminal

in the name of righteousness

I am a poet and I sing all beings. all beings are also all people. so

a father of a close friend of mine as well as the respected writer

I am an artist and I create resurrection through which everybody will be resurrected

all of those who were killed who were molested who were deported

and all killers and all molesters and all those who were deporting people

until the human kind remembers much more Alexander the Great than

Diogenes. Hitler than Sophie Scholl and White Rose the human kind

will be molested by Alexander Hitler Stalin Churchill Truman...

I used to love reading interviews. later on to give them myself

now I would also love to give one big interview to somebody who

knows my life and work well but there is no such person yet

all today’s blessings are about the street lid and nothing else

while reading a book about the history of walking I remembered my beloved

her book helped me a lot before the Rose of Wandering. especially because she would

always thank God for any hardship she would come across. and miraculously

hardship would then go away

that thanking helped me a lot as well during the Rose of Wandering

from today I will be reading her every day on her web site

her life is magnificent. she is one of the most beautiful beings that exist

her work is so great and beautiful that she is a top poet and top artist

you are more and more alive my wife

you are more and more beautiful my Goddess

You keep on walking

I’m happy that I feel more and more that those who died keep on living

I admire all the pilgrims that have been draining themselves to exhaustion

but walking has always been for me an art of one and only

artist who is for one artist more than all the artist put together

a medium of the all-encompassing work of art

creation of the shape by walking

dancing and singing

today, when it will be forty days from the death of my husband Ally Saunderson, I would

love if Miroslav Mandic would enclose the information about our wedding anniversary which

I spent with our friends on Ada Medjica, where and from where we have scattered

part of his ashes and by that carried out one of his wishes, he told me before

he left. even though yearning for your body and voice isn’t subsiding, I love

more and more your tender soul and more than good heart, my dearest

Ally. I hope that our roads will intersect at least once more and that we

will experience again that long eye communication in which we will

recognise each other and that you will write again in your diary

my god, I have been looking this woman forever.

keep on watching me my love

Ivana Djokic-Saunderson sent me text message

life yearns to live for love

body dies in order to love-kiss forever and to be love-kissed

I love-kiss You I love-kiss You my love

love is one

we

are

all

one

in

love

love within constant love

love for Lazar Stojanovic who I saw today on the street with glasses that had

one glass darker. if somebody see Lazar give him my love for his life and work

it’s evening – it’s cold

night has fallen – it’s now warmer and which reminded me how

I was going for three years in the evening to the bridge and every day

experiencing drop of temperature before the night falls and warming up when it falls

it’s night. winter is coming. greyness. coldness. whiteness and winter joys

whoever is somewhere I love-kiss them

I know You also love-kiss them

somebody

somewhere

is

a

sanctity

whoever is alone their head is on my shoulder

whoever is alone their chest is on Your chest

somebody

somewhere

we

are

together

walking

is

singing

singing

is

love-kissing

perverts are more normal than the normal ones

because normal people are hiding their perversions

there is not a single reason for me not being one and only reason for love

love itself

love in singing

sing me love

I love-kiss You immortality

every being joyfully dies for the immortality of all beings

immortality is innocent fucking

complete fuck up of words

complete fuck up of pain

complete fuck up of goodness

smile in the heart of every being

life for the other

down with the law

laws are killing immortality

only great love is love

only

great

poem

is

a

poem

God give not ever to be cocky and not ever to be pussy

when I saw yesterday little birds on branches I felt

great tenderness and I thought I’d love to fuck the birds

fuck – to surrender myself

I would fly and I would be small

greatest love lives in smallest

greatest

poem

sings

to

the

smallest

ones

nothing is more sexual than surrendering

more sexual than surrendering is excepting

more sexual than excepting is obeying

more sexual than obeying is love-kissing

more sexual than love-kissing are these twelve birds of surrendering and excepting

complete fuck up of all Universes within the one Universe

complete fuck up of lie and truth in a true orgasm

complete fuck up of the contradiction of all wishes within the innocence of every wish

when we say complete fuck up we think of something bad

for me complete fuck up is something most tender

wedding of surrendering and excepting

ten organised people are stronger than thousand unorganised

thousand organised people are stronger than hundred thousand unorganised

hundred thousand organised people are stronger than ten million unorganised

ten million organised people are stronger than one billion unorganised

six million organised people are stronger than six billion unorganised

that’s how the world is ruled

one small state can acquire domination over all people

but usually two states that are in conflict are those who rule

before the beginning of a conflict two states are fighting

for all the rest to be on their side in a battle against the rival

ruling comes from church arms law school money propaganda and entertainment

ruling is accomplished through different public secret and criminally organised societies

from pioneer and sport organisations through street gangs and

all kinds of masonry societies to the pension organisations

what turns me off from any of these organisations

is absence of conscience creativity and poetry

tastelessness of power and wealth

stupefied by education

dependency through law

boredom through entertainment

all importance and seriousness of the organised ones

can’t make a single step of a free man

all that ruling of the organised ones doesn’t

reach even the knees of an artist and his taste

all the power of getting organised is not even

to the ankle of one and only poet and his poetry

poet is singing all beings

all beings are love – not an organisation

peace

joy

humour

nonviolence

child

younglings

buds

pebbles

prayer through touch

in pace

here am I for You

Violeta found a mistake in numbers of blessings that I made in 295^th week

that mistake runs all the way through now

because I added later numbers onto that mistake

correcting the mistake is one of the most unpleasant things and it also takes a lot of time

I became sad

my head became clouded

human mistakes are easily brought to the atomic war

I’m trying not to make mistakes but they are certainly present in Miroslav Mandic

I want to do one thing but I do another

it’s good that I have at least realised that I made the mistake

first and last number of that day’s blessings are next to each other and instead of adding

to the last number I added on the first one and that’s how the mistake was born

there was an electricity cut a moment ago. the heating was connected

in the other room of the Nest

I feel lousy nonetheless

Wikipedia is not even opening

while editing 297^th week I came across the beauty of the number twenty seven

Walser, nobody entered Satie’s room for 27 years

1898-1925

Walser, You’ve spent 27 years in sanatorium

1929-1956

Walser, Mandela spent 27 years in jail

1962-1989

Walser, 27 years ago I opted for the art of walking

1983-2010

Walser, 27 years are 36 births

36 times 9 months

that lighten me up

twenty seven years

thirty six self-deliveries

walking recovered me

I felt dizziness in my head and slight pain in my heart

now I’m fondling myself by slow walk and mild air

rustling of dried leaves on branches makes me shudder

a woman got off her bike and she is looking for the pebbles on the shore for herself

I always love to hear the wind

I love to listen to the rain

I would love to learn how to hear the light

this pebble reminded me of the smell of sparkles produced

by stones that we were striking against each other in the childhood

walking rinses

I didn’t go down this road through the woods for a long time

we know each other. we are close

animal droppings and the smell of goats

there are no more lizards on my steps

lizards meant a lot to me last summer

it was raining last night

I see the traces of the rain on the path through the woods

pigs are digging the soil

three hens are strutting in the courtyard full of fallen leaves

I’m taking a photo of the leaves on which last night’s rain remained

taking photos is falling in love at first sight

raining is one of the most exciting stories

light

is

the

most

exciting

poem

most of the people around the lake are walking around me

I’m walking more mellow and slower

workers on the lake are taking down old trees for few days now

they are doing autumnal and winter works

they are doing all of what they couldn’t do last summer

they are preparing the lake for the next summer

light rain is beginning to fall like a first sentence of a short story

twenty or so seagulls are standing on the fence of the beach and one grebe is among them

what you just felt woman was a drop of rain on my cheek

what you just felt man was a drop of rain on my nose

what you hear are chainsaws that lumberjacks are chopping already cut down trunks with

sawdust and rotten leaves are quickly turning into soil

everything lives for each other

I live identifications through loneliness

loneliness affirms other being. every being. all beings

I’m protecting others from myself through loneliness

loneliness rejoices everyone

loneliness is the art of enduring the loneliness

every drop of rain is one being

all drops of rain are all beings of one rain

waiter is taking yellow pillows inside so that they wouldn’t get wet

I’m reading about Wordsworth’s walks in the

History of Walking. I didn’t know he walked so much

I recognise many things that I have experienced myself in the History of Walking

through reading any book I recognise the history of writing

in the experience of my writing

we breathe same air

we create one love

we live one God

around spring time next year Miroslav Mandic book will come to the half

hank of writing

ball of interlacing

thread

being

budding

calm down my heart

I will open the window to let a bit of air in

air on the balcony felt really good

one dog run through the street

wind was swinging the ficusses and curtains on the balconies on the building across

I wished I already was on the lake

so that legs are leading me

to get to see the birds and water

I’m absorbing the sky

I love-kiss anyone I see

but I calmed down because it’s nice being anywhere

especially in words I’m creating – words that are creating me

every word is extending the path of wasteland

writing is arch-trust in You

through writing we are together in Your reading

through writing I am irresistible one

I took thirty drops of the essence for circulation and heart

I might go to bed to curl up

to be a book-hank

to be Your body to my body through body

I might visit porno sites

to become all-love through mind

ball hank balloon globe

I don’t have enough words for a ball

thread is running

being is being

ball-like bud

he went away

a man went away

away he went and left poems all the way

I’m waiting for You all these years and that’s how I found out You are coming

I adore Your belly

belly dedicated to creation

my father died for me

he thought me about dying

that’s how I’m in art

through roundness and wholeness

through the holiness of poverty

through the edge of the road

though the spine

through the thigh

through identifying one

bowing through satisfaction

satisfaction is immortal and it satisfies itself through immortality

immortality of satisfying is within careful recognition

root of a word in the nutritious roots

i

n

e

x

p

l

i

c

a

b

l

e

is

the

clear

poem

by

the

long

roads

rosebushes

are

rooting

themselves

obvious

rose

road-like

rose

sexy

rose-like

rose

rose

of

my

wandering

rose

of

my

walking

rose

of

my

being

rose

of

my

creation

rose

of

my

poetry

rose

of

you-like

god

sing

me

sing

me

the

rose

of

my

bud

fuck me fuck sacredness of lovable all-being

it’s Saturday my Sunday