Bog Miroslav Mandić Bog

I love poems and poets

I love what poets are saying about poem and writing

beautiful is always bizarre 

Charles Baudelaire

the poet, therefore, is truly the thief of fire 

Arthur Rimbaud

I despise and hate arrogance and dirty pleasures of irony,

that white crow that distorts the preciseness of thought 

Lautreamont

of all writings I love only that which is written with blood. write with blood: and you will discover that blood is spirit

Friedrich Nietzsche

poem is first day of creation: first day of the world of art

Andrei Bely

whoever created something, he or she is a poet

Jovan Ducic

poets futurists! I have taught you to hate libraries and museums in order to

prepare you for hating reason and waking up godly intuition within yourselves

Filippo Marinetti

poem is a cousin to running, a word should cross in the least

possible time greatest possible number of kilometres pictures and thoughts

Velimir Khlebnikov

poetry and creation are the same thing

Guillaume Apollinaire

art doesn’t strive towards anything; it strives only to be art

Antun Branko Shimic

one should know a little – it’s the principle of a true, poet-master

or to be more precise: one should know only what should be known

Vladimir Sersenjevic

there should be only one means. concentrate on your deeper self. find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depth of your heart; confess to yourself you would have to die if you were forbidden to write

R. M. Rilke

great poetry is praise

Paul Claudel

we want the poetry of the globe and cosmos

Tin Ujevic

one is the art as well as one is God, as well as one is the life

Momcilo Nastasijevic

poetry is the record of my individual struggle from darkness toward some measure of light

Dylan Thomas

poetry is: constant loneliness

Tadeusz Borowski

a poem should no mean, but be

Archibald McLeish

dada is a quantity of life in transparent, effortless and gyratory transformation

Tristan Tzara

therefore don’t ask in new art a form, but a man

and art in that case won’t be a pleasure but consolation

Srecko Kosovel

the purest surrealist act is walking into a crowd with a loaded gun and firing into it randomly

Andre Breton

great songs write themselves. you’re just being led by the nose or the ears. the skill is not to interfere with it too much. Ignore intelligence, ignore everything; just follow it where it takes you

Keith Richards

in writing you have to slide ahead. words can be lame and crippled, but if they slide ahead, then certain thrill livens everything up. careful writing is dead writing

Charles Bukowski

here is a problem worthy of a poet:

how not to write a poem

how not to write

just another poem

Tadeusz Rozewicz

god of poetry is unknowable god, distant god

Yves Bonnefoy

unexplainable beauty is more precious than the beauty which can be measured

Ralph Waldo Emerson

perfectness is a synthesis of eternity and transiency

Novalis

all most precious things are useless

quotation that I found while reading the poets texts

wanting what god wants is the only science that brings us peace

quotation that I found while reading the poets texts

poet’s words are his work

quotation that I found while reading the poets texts

my writing is ingenious. therefore an idea about superficial

writing. there is no power in it. there is no meaning

Slobodan Tisma

there

is

no

poem

yet

in

these

words

but

they

are

nothing

else

but

the

poem

itself

the process of writing is a belief that each following word is a poem

writing

a

poem

sings

each

following

word

little branch in the woods has touched my neck

a bee is flying over the dead worm

poem is everything that I got through my body through which I was born

poem is the soul in which I was born

poem is the mind through which I am love all beings and God

autumn has came

David Berge professional tourist who I walked with yesterday pointed to the fallen leaves

poem is the process of tranquillity

poem is the process from tranquillity to ecstasy

poem is the process of ecstasy

poem is the process from ecstasy to tranquillity

my love for Kant’s a priori thinking is poem

all poems are the process of writing one and only poem

poem is the work of loneliness and the process of

loneliness through which loneliness transforms into all-love

poem is the process of singing through which poem is becoming

poem is the seven years old Gypsy boy who takes out and

goes through the trash from the trash bins with great pleasure

a man has carefully approached the kittens in the grass

and started to caress them for his and their pleasure sake

poem

is

the

path

of

rose

poem

is

a

rose

to

the

path

poem is easiness or heaviness through which poem

becomes. working on it. accepting the poem. enjoying with it

Miroslav Mandic book is the process of writing one and only poem

constant singing

writing the poem is like washing your hands or tying a belt

process of writing a poem is unknown and it’s never ending

process

of writing

a poem

out of

the poem

makes

whiteness

whiter

than

the snow

softness softer than cotton

quietness quieter than the Universe

live livelier than alive

process of writing a poem is mixing until

a whipped cream of indescribable pleasure is made

pleasure in which admiration and gratitude are hugging and kissing

poem

is

constant

budding

of

the

poem

sunny morning. opened window and the

balcony doors. tender voice of Madeleine Peyroux

I’m squeezing out the linden mucus out of the tea bag. I’m reading David’s Psalms

my flesh and my heart faileth, but God is

the strength of my heart and my portion for ever

Psalm 73:26

being blessed means meeting God

blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.

blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.

blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled.

blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.

blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.

blessed are they that are persecuted for righteousness' sake,

for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.

blessed are ye when men shall revile you and persecute you,

and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely for My sake

Matthew, 5.3-11

I adore blessed ones

two homeless people are sitting in the park

up on the bench a homeless woman is sitting on her own

strong smells of women that were passing by me

the end of summer can be felt in everything

two flowers of the moss-rose that I love a lot have started growing out of the asphalt

poem is blessing – blessing is being

poem is blessing – blessing is writing a poem

blessing is when I don’t feel anything when I just am

blessing is when I’m  noteven aware that I am

I enjoy when I feel that people I’m passing by are in blessed states

I’m watching the trees and I get a thought that the trees are constantly in blessings

a gaze with love always brings blessing

two young women are walking slowly. they are

coming back from the graveyard. they are talking quietly

I lifted up two queens from the ground for tomorrow’s tea

beggar woman that I love has sent towards me two year old girl and

one year old boy who are just approaching me with their hands stretched out

blessing is the wholeness that heals

tree branches are slightly swinging making the poem out of the swinging

I love – I love to love

I write – I write in order to write

I walk – I walk in order to walk

blessing is not guarding of life but giving one’s life

look at my shoulder and you’ll see Your leaned face on it

look at my face and You’ll see God

look

at

this

poem

and

you’ll

feel

the

blessing

within

it

blessing is mildness within horse’s eyes. mildness in granny’s

hands. mildness in exhausted worker. mildness in indefinite. mildness

in slim trunks of birch. mildness in the warm and soft belly

blessings are the sealed and silent lips

blessing is the smile that approves

blessing

is

mild

getting

into

the

poem

and

touching

singing

of

each

word

in

it

loyalty makes a poem from everything and everyone

from everyone who watches the river for a long time

everyone who out of honesty becomes a poem

who walks for a joy of all beings

who constantly smiles so that everyone would be glad

from a child who surrenders and begs the powerful

ones of the world to free the world from injustice and pain

from innocent that were tortured and imprisoned in the all-prison Guantanamo

as long as there are Guantanamos human society is in Guantanamo

wood in a woodcutter – woodcutter in a wood

poem is loyalty to one and only youth

poem is loyalty to all those who gave their lives for ideals from which others are living

poem is loyalty to the play to which just born beings are surrendering

poem is loyalty to the mind which guards the wholeness of the one

poem is an ode of loyalty to the loyal ones

poem is loyalty of my gaze to everything I’m watching

poem is my loyalty which You feel while it butterflies in Your belly

poem is my loyalty which You feel while it meanders up and down Your spine

poem is my loyalty to words through which I sing within Your ears

poem are my touches with which I’m caressing particles of Your loyalties

poem is my loyalty to the water in which I will be swimming today as well

poem is loyalty to the smell of the woods which I’m going through

poem is loyalty to all the smells that are plentiful in this world

poem is loyalty to my loneliness in which all beings live

loyalty is God

God is loyalty

poem is loyalty both to God and loyalty

poem is loyalty of my loneliness through which I love-kiss

everything that I love-kissed and everybody that I love-kissed

poem is loyalty to these moments through

which I am loyal to all past and all future moments

poem is loyalty to this deep peace after the

swimming in which I pronounce each word after a long break

poem is loyalty to that girl which I see in the distance on the forest path

she passed by me walking slowly and with her head lowered

poem is loyalty to dancing and singing through which each poem lives

poem is loyalty to Michel Serres who wrote that philosophy is loyalty

poem is loyalty to Miroslav Mandic who is the source of all loyalties

poem is loyalty to the heart which is lifting me up the

hot Ban’s Hill’s concrete staircases in the greatest heat

a

priori

poem

poem

in

poem

poem

with

poem

ohm

of

poem

poem

to

heels

three

word

poem

come

poem

poem

and

branches

i

is

poem

to

poem

each

word

is

wording

each

word

is

singing

each

poem

love-kisses

here’s

a

poem

for

you

poem

heals

the

wholeness

poem

beautiful

on

it’s

own

poem

good

only

through

you

plain

poem

poem

on

the

corner

poem

of

spite

cinnamon

poem

poem

of

gazes

poem

of

steps

breath

of

a

poem

simp

lic

it

y

limb

of limb

to limb

limb

news

of

the

conscience

is

poem

swim

me

swimming

sing

me

singing

cherish

me

I’m

your

poem

your

immortality

they

say

it’s

going

to

rain

with

poems

this

afternoon

they

say

that

they

love

to

have

a

say

fuck

what

a

beautiful

poem

fuck

repetition

is

so

beautiful

if

it

is

a

poem

and

only

if

it

is

a

poem

as

well

as

when

it

is

a

poem

and

how

it

is

a

poem

and

why

it

is

a

poem

and

because

it

is

singing

yea, the sparrow hath found a house, and the swallow a nest for herself where

she may lay her young" even Thine altars, O LORD of hosts, my King and my God

Psalm 84.3

when you hide your trauma you’re lying yourself

absence of poem

when you’re hiding your guilt you’re lying the other

hatred towards poem

when you can’t bare your guilt you attack and accuse the other

destroying poem

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

addressing – only to You – to anybody – to holly nobody

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

Miroslav Mandic fucking – love-kissing of the sensory and mental

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

all that what I wasn’t accepting while it was lasting

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

joy with which I’m writing what-how-to who poem is

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

what nobody so far doesn’t recognise that poem is

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

book Philosophy of Football that I will never write

You write it

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

boys that haven’t yet betrayed ideals through power

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

girls that haven’t yet betrayed love through motherhood

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

setting oneself free from slavery. tastes. taboos. indifference

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

when a stone starts singing and waves prance like horses

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

everything that flutters in the wind while steps are not stopping

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

singing of pain through which pains are easing and disappearing

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

constant and wild dancing in my youth through which

I was vowing to the existence that it will exist as long as I’m alive

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

sexual hunch of the incorruptible ones

that everything in this world depends only on them

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

feat. hips. flanks. genitalia. spine. shoulders. eyes. hands

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

ecstasy of the rolling stones on towards the blue heights

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

plum brandy. barley beer. grape wine. word poem

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

going away passing by coming. going away

passing by coming. passing by passing by passing by

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

nothing in this world is my – all this world is actually myself

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

rocking and rolling within the blood of all beings

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

sublimity of something unimportant and unimportant ones

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

book Religion of Jazz Blues Boogie-Woogie Rock’n’Roll… which I will never write

You live it

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

mixing of all and everything gives cleanest primal one

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

cock in the eyes. pussy in the head. love in the heart

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

one and only language turns pains of all beings into one and only joy of every being

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

dictionary of philosophical terms which I downloaded and which I’m enjoying immensely

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

plain people live trying to be worthy of rebellion and rebels

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

when you feel me dance and never stop

poem is blues. jazz. boogie-woogie. rock’n’roll…

when you see me sing and never die

the allies and companions which are helping me

all these years since the Rose of Wandering are following

poem is a walker – poem is a walker of the poem

I’m walking and singing on the road straight like an arrow through circling singing

poem is a poet – poem is a poet of the poem

you are that man because of which I will never be alone. I felt that in one

of those afternoons – you wrote to me in an e-mail and I’m singing it in my poem

poem is a fool – poem is a fool of the poem

poem celebrates me and me the fool am guarding the poet and poem from the ridicule

poem is a gardener – poem is a gardener of the poem

I’m digging You pruning feeding and nourishing my poem

poem is a wanderer – poem is a wanderer of the poem

to withstand and to last – to love-kiss every moment

poem is a beggar – poem is a beggar of the poem

I’m celebrating the prayer and gratitude and

I guard people so that they wouldn’t become beggars

poem is a lover – poem is a lover of the poem

I love-kiss the lone ones and not love-kissed

and I’m improving all beings through love-kissing

poem is a mystic – poem is a mystic of the poem

I’m the experience to the inexperienced.

an idea to the incomprehensible. spoken to the unspoken

poem is a monk – poem is a monk of the poem

more and more so I’m transforming myself through loneliness into my nun

poem is a miner – poem is a miner of the poem

each word that I’m singing is gold which is for free

poem is a philosopher – poem is a philosopher of the poem

I’m a poem to the idea. I’m an idea to the poem. sing me idea sing

poem is a shepherd – poem is a shepherd of the poem

with a stick in my hand while it’s raining all

over us I’m a shepherd to all beings and all poems

poem is a hero – poem is a hero of the poem

I’m inspiring each vibration for heroism and each particle I turn into a hero

poem is an artist – poem is an artist of the poem

a wonder through which with only few words I’m creating a wonder of a great poem

poem is a runaway child – poem is a runaway child of the poem

I am the escape into the arms of freedom love and God

poem is a dancer – poem is a dancer of the poem

everything what a body wants to please with the other body

poem is a performer – poem is a performer of the poem

with the tongue in my mouth I’m tonguing

over each word in the language in which I’m singing

poem is a conceptualist – poem is a conceptualist of the poem

the beauty of conceiving. everything is in the beginning. everything is just the beginning

poem is a computer scientist – poem is a computer scientist of the poem

I’m forming and uniting all information into

the beauty and goodness of one and only information

poem is an anarchist – poem is an anarchist of the poem

life in everyday joy. life in joy of all beings

poem is an economist – poem is an economist of the poem

I am one and one is enough. enough is the only wealth

poem is a pacifist – poem is a pacifist of the poem

understanding and compassion with acts of all beings

poem is an activist – poem is an activist of the poem

I’m massaging the ground on which I’m walking with my soles

poem is a rebellion – poem is a rebellion of the poem

tranquillity through which each word enjoys my love for each word

poem is a mathematician – poem is a mathematician of the poem

number one in the word one. mathematics of words adores poetry of numbers

poem is a musician – poem is a musician of the poem

I am music of Your breath

poem is a gigolo – poem is a gigolo of the poem

everything that any given word ever wanted somebody to do to it

I’m putting my palms on my knees to warm

them up. I’m a gigolo to myself. a very poem I am

it’s beautiful that everything is poem

poem is grapes – poem is grapes to the poem

this fall as well I will have a lunch with Zelimir Zilnik eating bread and grapes

it’s good that everything is poem

poem is a bud – poem is a bud of the poem

all roses that are transforming on the road into the eternal bud

poem is rebellion of God sex and money

poem is God-sex-money – holy trinity of innocence

God-sex-money – three biggest taboos

God is sameness

sex is goodness and beauty

money is walking creating and singing of God sex and money

poem liberates God from misuse of God

poem liberates sex from violence and puritanism

poem liberates money from uncreative selfish and greedy

through singing and rebellion despised ones hurt nobody

through singing a virgin life liberates itself from death

through singing of the poor ones both the poor and

the rich ones are liberating themselves from the ghetto

through singing of the masters masters are

liberating themselves from stupidity and ugliness

through singing money liberates itself from profit

through singing poets are liberating themselves from the abuse

through singing of the children words are

enjoying because they are used for the first time

through singing of the adolescents ideals liven up

singing of the middle aged ones begins with forgiving repentance and redemption

through singing of the old ones every being is loved

through singing of the mothers motherhood liberates itself from mothers

through singing of the fathers property liberates itself from males

through singing of the minerals God-sex-money is joy to the bodies

through singing of the plants God-sex-money is health to the souls

through singing of the animals God-sex-money is freedom to the spirits

through singing of the spirits of nature

God-sex-money is transformation of the pliable ones

through singing of the people God-sex-money is loyalty of the meek ones

through singing of the artificial intelligence God-sex-money is love of the harmless ones

through singing of the higher beings God-sex-money is success of the unselfish ones

once You told me I was born for your cock and I received only him within me

You encouraged me to sing the pussy again and everything that poem expects from singing

everything what singing gives to the poem. if I’m thinking through Your pussy I’m creating the most beautiful poem

through singing Your labia are open and Your lips are closed

Poem about Poem is the poem of Your immortality

poem is love-kissing and constant one and only fucking

egoism puritanism and richness are destroying God and sex and money

poem – singing of God is

poem – singing and fucking of sex is

poem – through singing fucking and creating money is

from the book Anthology of Ancient Poetry with

greatest admiration and joy I’m rewriting the following

with all primitive people, one of the main sources of magic powers is a word

speaking good is indistinguishably connected to doing good,

so we can understand why Indians consider lie one of the greatest sins

primitive world can be rather called civilisation of the word

for example in one African language asking is expressed in

eleven ways and singing or walking in twenty or so different ways

poetry in primitive societies is much deeper inwrought in

everyday life then it is the case in contemporary, civilised world

primitive poetry, unlike the most of the European poetry, is very

rarely just recited, in most of the cases it rather represents unique mixture

of music, singing and dancing and often mime as well as acting or visual expression

percussions are almost always used, which is a proof of

distinct and tight connection of the verse and music rhythm

with all primitive people heeler, shaman

can be considered as some kind of protopoet

many of the songs are becoming through visions,

what is preceded with isolation, fasting and wandering rituals

poems are thoughts that are rising with a breath when people are possessed with

great powers and when plain talk isn’t enough anymore. a man is shaken like a peace

of ice that is floating here and there, carried by the current. mighty power is putting his

thoughts in motion while he feels joy, fear, sorrow… we are afraid to use words. but it

will happen that the words we are looking for appear on their own. when the words

we want to use occur on their own – that’s when we have a new poem

God and ancestors,

thank you for letting

me see this day

Ibo tribe, Africa

a woman can’t look at the male genitalia – and not be glad

Yoruba, Africa

when butterflies come to the place where a cheetah shits they disperse all over

Yoruba, Africa

a drove of reindeers on Varanger Peninsula

are running over the rocks and rocky highlands

beautiful beasts are beating the tips of the rocks

Laponya, Asia

how can possibly someone who is satiated and healthy

understand the frenzy of hunger?

we only know that we all tremendously love life!

Eskimos

now on the east

white beans and big corn plant

are getting tied with white thunders

listen! rain is coming!

a voice of a blue bird can be heard

Navaho Indians

I thought

it was

a grebe

but

it was

splashing paddle

of my beloved

Chippewa Indians

my flaring horns

Chippewa Indians

blue, floating

sky

gives me an answer

Chippewa Indians

while the day heath was coming

I was standing there

Chippewa Indians

while my gaze

is wandering the prairie

I feel the summer in the spring

Chippewa Indians

in front of me is peaceful

behind me is peaceful

underneath me is peaceful

above me is peaceful

peace is all around me

his voice is peaceful when he nickers

I’m eternal and peaceful

I’m with my horse

Navaho Indians

when the earth was made

when the sky was made

when my poems started sounded for the first time

Apaches

where the wind blows

were the wind whistles

where the wind roars as well

I’m standing turned towards the west

the wind

is whistling

the wind is roaring

I’m standing

Teton Sioux

my walk is beauty

beauty is in front of me

beauty is behind me

beauty is above me

beauty is above me and around me while I’m walking

and my walk is ending in beauty

my walk is ending in beauty

Navaho Indians

corn takes root and the rose is opening…

gods are singing

hills and mountains are singing

and roses are singing

Huichol Indians

I was climbing to the place where roses were singing

where gods were waiting

for the blue stairs towards the sky

Huichol Indians

and we are walking the earth

this is how we should be thinking…

we are thanking the grass and plants

we are thanking the things we named

we are thanking the bushes, the forest, the maple

we are thanking the strawberries

we are thanking the animals which walk the Earth

on this day we are thanking the birds that are flying through the air

we are thanking the air for dispersing the Air over the Earth

we are thanking the sky

we are thanking our Brother Sun

we are thanking our Arch Father Moon

we are thanking on this day

this is how we should be thinking

Seneca Indians

even if I remain alone

even the tiniest tremor of the branches and grass – I cannot bare!

Hawaii

poem rises to the gods

verve inspires a drawer

beat the drums, drum within a circle!

black sea swallow

flies in with her wings spread

her black colour falls on the skin

poke well and duly

you who are tattooing

Marshall Islands, Micronesia, Pacific Ocean

I bow to you I love-kiss you my singing sisterhood and

brotherhood. I love-kiss you because you have been dancing and singing

through love-kissing since the beginning of time mothers and fathers of mine.

brothers and sisters of mine. wives and husbands of mine. daughters and sons of mine.

my only family. my only tribe. my only people. my only state

do not stop

do not stop

do not stop

I live

I walk

I create

I sing

through rhythms

86400 moments every day

rhythm of day and night

rhythm of 24 hours

rhythm of week

rhythm of month

rhythm of seasons

rhythm of year

rhythm of decade

rhythm of 33 years

rhythm of century

rhythm of millennium

rhythm of hundred thousand years

rhythm of eternity

rhythm of 33 blessings in Miroslav Mandic book

rhythm of 198 blessings in Miroslav Mandic book

rhythm of 33 days in Miroslav Mandic book

rhythm of 81 days in Miroslav Mandic book

rhythm of 129600 blessings in Miroslav Mandic book

rhythm of my mental vibrations

rhythm of my heart

rhythm of my breathing

rhythm of my steps

rhythm of my fingers that are writing

rhythms of spaces

rhythms of sensual and mental

rhythms of tranquillities and fervours

rhythms of music that I’m listening

rhythms of dances I’m dancing

rhythms of mystical talks that I’m talking

rhythm of birth dying and resurrection

all rhythms are flowing into the one and only rhythm

rhythm

of

god

poem

atomic bud

unknown person and the unknown are guarding the world from destruction

I put 33 pieces of paper on which I was writing atomic bud poems in

33 bills and gave them to Branko Popovic to throw them all over Novi Sad

atomic bud

home of all beings

atomic bud

when I think of Your palms which are holding

the piece of paper with this poem I feel that the world is permeating

atomic bud

theory of everything in Your hand

atomic bud

You are holding patience in Your hand

atomic bud

particles are dancing and vibrations are singing within You

atomic bud

vibrations of Your thoughts harmonise the surrounding

atomic bud

health in Your body. peace in Your soul. beauty of Your spirit

atomic bud

buds through the wholeness and untidiness in each atom always and forever

atomic bud

restores all atoms that exploded and those that are just being smashed

atomic bud

unnoticed in which live hope lives

atomic bud

rejected in which live faith lives

atomic bud

tenderness in which live love lives

atomic bud

earth water air light will not give up on life

atomic bud

swallows are flying over the Ada lake before they fly away from here to the south

atomic bud

black puppy is licking its snout and watches me while I’m writing this poem about him

atomic bud

radiates joy that You need

atomic bud

radiates health that You need

atomic bud

radiates freedom that You need

atomic bud

radiates transformation that You need

atomic bud

radiates loyalty that You need

atomic bud

radiates success that You need

atomic bud

radiates love that You love-kiss

atomic bud

smile within this poem leads You to the constant smile on Your face

atomic bud

I remind You through winking to wink at someone or something

atomic bud

each good deed of Yours liberates the world from

horror that is waiting for it in case there is not enough good deeds

atomic bud

what You feel right now is Your present and good

thoughts that You wish now are the future which You will create

atomic bud

reminds You on splendour of air that You are breathing right now

atomic bud

gratitude to each day

atomic bud

each good undertaking of Yours is dear to all beings

atomic bud

through Your contemplation whole world feels love-kissed

atomic bud

right away effort enables You tranquillity forever

atomic bud

beings live through good deeds that they do

to each other ever since the beginning of time

today

and

yesterday

I

suddenly

realised

that all these 13 years

since we have known each other

I think of you every day

here they are poem and love in an e-mail that a friend sent me last night

the

beauty

of

poem

is

touching

poem are all failures in life and art that I had hard time taking and which I am taking

hard but which inspire me more and more and lead me towards one and only success

thank You fool

through love towards uncreated poems and through uncreated art

I am a poet of all future poems and an artist of all future art

same way the director of love is director of love the poem of love is poem of love

I didn’t say yesterday to the director of love to also be

a director of money but I’m telling him through this blessing

fuck it’s so good that director of money – director of money that’s a great idea where the very money is

poem is love to God. love to sex. love to money

love is much more than what is implied by word love

love is indivisibility

I won’t manage to write all of what I think of love

but what I don’t write will be a work of love itself

however it’s important that I write that love is

everything and that everything exists through love

poem is made out of love and that’s exactly why poem is love

an eye is love

a concept is love

Universe is love

You are love

poem

is

an

uterus

full

of

sperm

of

love

all

goodness

of

the

world

is

within

this

poem

everything came to existence through love and everything came out of goodness

love belongs to everybody – goodness is everything and everybody

I am a whore of love and a gigolo to goodness

without money

I am a whore and a gigolo to money

without money

I am money to money

without money

richness destroys God sex and poem

money is destroyed for money

I really didn’t think I will be writing like this but

that’s how I’m really writing and that’s both poem and love

this

poem

begs

you

to

give

me

everything

end

to

begin

that

with

cleaning

the

nest

never try to understand anybody’s love

never try to understand anybody’s poem

love

poem

goodness

are

the

very

god

the only thing that is left for You is to be ashamed because

of Your love which is not worthy nor God nor poem nor love

same way goodness can only be God

can only love and be love-kissed. and can only be poem

poem

be

poem

poem

of

mine

you

are

love

to

everybody

goodness

to

anybody

thank You poet

before the mountains were brought forth, or ever Thou hadst formed the earth

and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, Thou art God

Psalm, 90.2

God is a childhood of God

baby God is God in all younglings therefore in babies as well

this body is God

this feeling is God’s creatures

this thought thinks through God

this will is God’s

through this faith I hold on to God

this love love-kisses God

this creating through God sings God

this singing through God creates God

don’t resist all your ideas are Mine

God

I’m grateful to You God for writing poems-blessings

I’m grateful to You teddy boy who is not

afraid of anybody but You rejoice love-kissing God

I’m grateful to You horse who obediently pull

the cart in order to announce the mystery of God

I’m grateful to You nail which nails down and rottens for God

I’m grateful to You rope which gets rotten and sets

the dog’s neck free so the dog can bark in God’s glory

God

I

You

poem

it’s

the

same

one God

one I

one You

one poem

I

am

god

is

the

only

poem

when in 20^th March next year I finish writing poems I am God

in the book I am You are I I will continue writing them until the end

of my life. those poems I am God. those poems I am Miroslav Mandic

God thank You

a programme for putting the photos of my face on the link Walking

on my web-site froze up so I also got frozen up and sad – poem is God

I’m imagining the cane that started getting golden colour on this autumn sun

a poem just like God loves unnoticed

poem is an oath to God which they are carrying within them

body full of goodness

soul full of poems

spirit filled with God

through poem I thank You God on poems-tattoos on Your body

poem is dancing and singing on Your legs

poem is goodness and beauty on Your hands

poem is carefulness and joy on Your shoulders

poem is the name Miroslav Mandic on Your chest

poem is the love temple on Your right temple

poem is the Universe temple on Your left temple

poem is God on the right side of Your neck

poem is the bud on the left side of Your neck

poem is this is a tattooed poem to god through which god sings on Your back

as for man, his days are as grass; as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth

for the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more

Psalm 103.15,16

origins of poem is in a poet

origins of a poet is in God

s

a

m

s  a  m  e  m  a  s

m

a

s

identity (from Latin idem = same), sameness, equality, identical. in logics:

a relation which turns each object entirely towards itself. the principle of

identity, which is for the first time mentioned by Aristotle, can be formulated

like this: each being is just what it is, that is to say it’s determined to be what

it is and not at the same time something else, each being is what it is –

 “A = A” – and it expresses same content of a certain idea

god

is

god

to

a

poem

poem

is

a

poem

to

god

everything that a poem sings about is poem

poem of beauty is beauty

poem of bravery is bravery

poem of freedom is freedom

poem of apple is an apple

poem of warm wind is the warm wind

poem of God is God

I began loving everything through poem

I experienced God through poem

I look at You – I see a poem

I feed myself through poem

I am through poem

goodness is in everything

only one can guard-love-sing everything

only one poem – only one poet

one

is

everything

one

to

another

one

same poem in each poem

sex of the clarity and simplicity

warm soup – warm palm on the back

poem is a poet with all his troubles

sameness is the cosmic consciousness of love

sameness is inconceivable conscience particle

poem

is

the

sameness

which

sings

through

itself

in

everything

same

ones

we

are

the

same

in

the

only

poem

poem is my identity. who has an identity has a sovereignty. he who

has a sovereignty over it doesn’t have a sovereignty. poem is sovereign

my identity card

address POEM

nation POEM

state POEM

religion POEM

membership POEM

attribute POEM

profession POEM

from my computer great blues is coming out – the computer is my poem my web site

on the screen I have a front page of the web site. it’s blue

sky-like. grassy. sandal-like. bare footed. with joined palms

of bowing and gratitude. a welcome to any visitor. to each bud

it’s dedicated to God You and all beings

the most important on my web site are my decisions

which I made before I even made it with the help of Zoltan Varady

blue tranquillity which is spreading the internet community from my web site

permeating of Universe and internet which makes the nervous system of my web site

the most important decision is that the web site

should be a work of art by itself and a place for all beings

but it should be the being itself which will feed all beings with beauty and goodness

the web site has embedded within it my excitement for computer and internet

which I discovered when I found out basic things about them from Zoltan Varady

before I started working on it and especially when I found out from Zoltan about

Alan Turing Ada Byron… and when I’ve decided that before the work on my

website I will make Virtual Pilgrimage to the virtual world within the virtual world

the same way I was in my childhood and youth delighted

with radio book film I was now delighted with computer

computer is God’s beauty

it’s so tender and sensible

too beautiful and too good

full of music pictures knowledge plants animals God’s pornography

Diana Washington is actually singing to us

every day I put 33 blessings on my web site

a photo of the bud – time and place of every day work being and creating

a photo of walking – the face I’m walking with towards You and all beings

every visit to the web site I call the bud – bud is a welcome of sameness

I would love if Zoltan would make me two or three more programs

so that I can put on it two or three more things every day

the site sometimes gets broken and Zoltan then fixes it

some things on the site are not finished. there are few mistakes on it

I hope one day Zoltan will be in the position to come so that we could finish and upgrade all of that

especially to carry on talking thinking and philosophising about the web site

I miss a lot not having somebody who I could

sometimes think through with the web site computer internet God

that goes also for the rest of my work creation and singing

even though every day around twenty people visit the site I feel

more and more alone and more and more open for God You and all beings

I’d love if the number of visitors-buds would get bigger

let’s go poem

it’s a real wonder that this blessing will be read already today by twenty or so people

that makes me excited and thankful – the source of hugging and kissing

miroslavmandic.name – a gaze a scene a view a look

the art of poem – the poem of art

thank You for visiting me every day

thank you Zoltan Varady

thank you all beings for visiting you every day

thank you Violeta Jovanovic for editing blessings every day

and Ivana Djokic-Saunderson for translating them every day to English

I love-kiss You God

thank You my Bud – thank you all people who have since the beginning of time

worked on creating the computer and internet community – miroslavmandic.name

miroslavmandic.name

a platform of a poem which with beauty goodness and love floats through Universe

to God You and all beings

miroslavmandic.name

a little chapel of art that through tranquillity and ecstasy sings in the heart of each being

to God You and all beings

Miroslav Mandic Poem is Miroslav Mandic Poem

tautology which I adore. tautology (Greek ταυτολογία = repetition of

what’s already been said), marks the sentence in which a subject and

a predicate have the same meaning (for example living being is the

one that lives). marking the same with the same. in modern logics:

logical operation that is always true

Miroslav Mandic Poem is Miroslav Mandic Poet

Miroslav Mandic Poem is rebellion against

the male culture and power when I was sixteen

rebellion against women that is waiting for me when I’m sixty two

Miroslav Mandic Poem is the beginning of writing poems

Miroslav Mandic Poem are two hundred poems

which I burned down when I was twenty two

Miroslav Mandic Poem is disappearing and refining through a poem

Miroslav Mandic Poem is a break away

Miroslav Mandic Poem are fallouts through which I was guarding poem and love

Miroslav Mandic Poem is giving blood

Miroslav Mandic Poem are decisions that I made in prison

Miroslav Mandic Poem is Miroslav Mandic Autobiography

Miroslav Mandic Poem is Walking for Poetry

Miroslav Mandic Poem is rejecting the reputation in society

Miroslav Mandic Poem are admirations

Miroslav Mandic Poem is being excited with goodness and good people

as well as with all of those who dared when nobody else dared

Miroslav Mandic Poem are meekness and modesty through sex

Miroslav Mandic Poem are Poem on Poems

Miroslav Mandic Poem are oaths to love poverty the rejected and imprisoned ones

Miroslav Mandic Poem is the wine which I was

ritually drinking and incenses that I was smelling

Miroslav Mandic Poem is constant music listening

Miroslav Mandic Poem is the Monastery of Time

Miroslav Mandic Poem are the words dance and poem tattooed on my hands

Miroslav Mandic Poem is the poem through which nobody is alone

Miroslav Mandic Poem is a scream of every just born

youngling – passing away of already passed away olds

Miroslav Mandic Poem is a poem and love of One and Only Family of All Beings

God to God

Miroslav Mandic Poem are the words which I’m writing and

singing as if they were said created and sung for the first time

Miroslav Mandic Poem is the first poet which existed

while there still wasn’t a single man around and let alone a poet

Miroslav Mandic Poem serves creates and sings all former present and future poets

Miroslav Mandic Poem are the prayers

I beg You so that I would always have enough money

I beg You to take over my work and emit it to all beings

I beg You to help me operate the fat tissue on my back

I beg You to learn how to beg

I beg You…

Miroslav Mandic Poem are all days of my life since the Genesis

86400 poems every day

Miroslav Mandic Poem are gratitude and orgasms through which I’m writing each poem

Miroslav Mandic Poem is being alone – unprotected – love-kissing

God You and all beings

Miroslav Mandic Poem is the drawing Atomic Lullaby

Poem about Poem is the Poem about Film

hey neighbour could you turn down that music at least in the morning

shouted to me yesterday a young man from the window across the street

ouch ouch ouch

how that disturbed me scared and humiliated

poetry of life in midst of the life of art

joy of mine don’t give up

I closed the windows

music of mine I love You

I’m creating You through the poem – You love-kiss me through life

paprika is being baked tomatoes are being cooked

I

live

I

I

sing

I

I

create

I

I

walk

I

I

god

I

I

I

I

poem

my beloved kisses

senses of my ideas

sense of my consciousness

consciousness of my senses

taking heart in the palm and sowing love over the landscape on the way

horizon I miss you

surrounding I miss you

caressing I miss you

I love-kiss You missing – immediately I don’t miss anything any more

my blessing you are really pelting but you are true

my painful heel – my painful Achilles tendon – that’s it for us

I immediately felt the presence of everybody who has exactly what they have

that’s

it

for

me

Jean Jacques Rousseau

explanation of mine I’m not explaining You

mare

sparrows

grass

william

carlos

williams’

sparrows

exposed to love

music of cosmic blood permeates me

I fill Your spine with goodness

the undivided meanders

I belong to You birdy while You are flying on Your own over the ocean

I’ve never seen an ocean – I am the ocean

I’ve never been in the Universe – I am the Universe

I’ve never impregnated a female elephant – I am the female elephant

I’ve never been You – I am You

writing excites me more and more

the face of everything appears out of nothing

the beauty of tautology wins over the tautology of goodness

my unique one You are giving Yourself to my wholeness

I’m heeling You with wholeness

don’t give up my fragility

don’t give up water lilies

don’t give up rejected ones

don’t give up eternity

You have Your bed and Your home in this blessing

I

fuck

your

I

only few words are enough so that the affluence would start singing

I won’t call You now because of the tenderness but now I love You also in eternity

Friedrich Nietzsche

while stirring the stew You have only an apron on Your naked body

my being’s joy overflows into You and into all beings

the poem of the despised ones liberates both the oppressed and the oppressors

ecstasy cherishes me also after ecstasy

hug my legs with Your legs

protect my belly with Your belly

love-kiss my back with Your breasts

danger transforms into tranquillity

wholeness heals itself on my shoulder

I resurrects into I

while it’s getting dark and dusk is still on fire

Your insides tells great stories about tiny poems

around the motif of a river the most modern

detail has always been and will always be a rowboat

last night I dreamt this sentence

I just wanted to say

it’s noon. warm wind is blowing before tonight’s rain and storm

but my Dictaphone was broken. I dropped it on the ground on Saturday

and now it’s silent

I really wanted to write while walking and now I’m tired and I don’t really feel like writing

I quite like this really at the beginning and in the end

love for writing will open me up and loyal writing will pour out

the music I’m listening to will swirl the blood within me

I will fly

with words with words

with warm wind which was lifting my hair

I enjoy when the wind blows goodness over my bare skin

everything that is is for everybody

I like even more this is at the beginning and in the end of the sentence

sing Miroslav sing Miroslav

all the cells in my body are telling me at once

sing Miroslav sing Miroslav

all the cells in all bodies are telling me at once

the world is the way I say it is

blue blends into green

with sense in my nostrils

fury transformed into obedience

water confluences into the water

wind blows over the waters

today I wanted to write about the light

daily light and everyday of light

about its meandering and refraction

about friendship with light

nothing but that – light burns within blood

it washes my sandals on the balcony

loving is beautiful because everybody can be loved

the wind was today at one moment the sea that was roaring above my head

swim in my sea

I would love if a friend of mine would go again to the seaside

Louis Armstrong

wind is spreading goodness

wind is blowing with goodness

being in the wind means being in goodness

around the motif of a river the most modern

detail has always been and will always be a rowboat

I affirm the sentence from my dream also in reality

I am god

circling

of the wholeness

which pulsates

within the tiniest

and in the biggest it

transforms into me

today’s poem from I am You are I book

today is the half of I am You are I book

buds of God

they are like little piles of stones

like lumps

turfs

galaxies

simple

just begun and already finished

inner

singing lullabies

I am god

lilacs are smelling

your love

makes me god

13^th April 2011

I’m editing them again

they are leading me like flowers are leading bees

I am god

white irises in the wind

everybody’s face wants to be god

everybody’s face is my face

27^th April 2011

I would like to print them as a book

I can see that book. I can feel it in my hands. it feels good in my pocket

it’s cloudy. it’s raining. I’m reading little poems of God

God

I am god

light yearns

for the poem

of runaway children

in the dusk

9^th May 2011

I am God’s glory

it’s cloudy

it’s raining with autumn rain

I’m reading small poems

God’s poems

God

God is not fashionable any more – I love You even more God

I am god

wanderer of joy

freedom of singing

you want me through god

10^th June 2011

I just now realised the fact that on my screen are at the same time open both books

on the left side I am You are I and on the right side today’s blessings from Miroslav Mandic

book in which I’m reacting to what I’ve read in the book I am You are I

that’s how two rivers are flowing

they are going their ways towards the only way towards the only book

God’s beauty before my eyes

on the screen and at the desk on which I’m writing every day poems I am You are I

I am god

god in each conversation with you

I’m discovering the language through which you dear god are

8^th September 2011

happiness You are really happy