Bog Miroslav Mandić Bog

I hope that this year as well I will write the 144 Definitions of Art

from 24^th May to 4^th June

a little bit of strength – a lot of sense there is

old Indian

constant path

is waiting

path is still

path is beautiful

I recognised its beauty on the First Walking for Poetry

twenty nine years ago

beauty which spreads through the landscapes

I couldn’t walk for ten years later on if it wasn’t

for the beauty of the path and walking as dancing

nothing more miraculous than this day

everything that ever was is today as well

everything that will ever be is already now

old Indian is moving away

a poem on the road he is

I Am The One Who Sees How Each Grass Blade Is Swinging In The Landscape

I Am The One Who Mother Gave Birth To In Order To Be Brother And Sister To Each Being

I Am The One Who Father Created In Order To Be Inextinguishable Flame Of Freedom

my youth is in Your youth

my essence is in Your essence

one is the pulse

the essence of trudging

the essence of tamburica-playing

the essence of tattooing

from that distance into this closeness he came

from this closeness into that distance he will go

I Am The One Who Is Turning Distances into Closeness’s

I Am The One Who Is Turning Closeness’s Into Love

I Am The One Who Is Turning Love Into Loyalty

feet

hands

face

o

l

d

i

n

d

i

a

n

p

a

t

h

this morning I got the stitches from my chests removed

on Friday the ones from my leg should be as well

the air in Topcider felt so good

snails

a worm

everything yearns for each other

harmony of mutual yearning fills each particle of the Universe

I feel sleepy whole day

life is dance which should be honestly danced

greatest human crime is calling many beings

inanimate and also not seeing beings in things

Topcider lake has been cleansed today

they emptied it and then they were taking out the mud from its bottom in carts

each work is important

I’m thankful to the nurse Snezana who has been

changing my bandages three-four times already

selfishness is hatred towards oneself

hatred towards oneself is spreading on the hatred towards everybody

unselfishness is love for oneself

love for oneself is spreading on the love for others

I’m constantly listening old blues

they’re lifting me up

making me tender

when maternal instinct in a woman for her new born after

two years doesn’t transform into love for younglings of all beings maternal

instinct of that woman is transforming into the instinct of a killer throughout her life

when martial instinct in a man after the war

doesn’t transform into love for ex enemies martial instinct

of that man is transforming into the instinct of a killer throughout his life

life is full of killers

blues is guarding the world from mass killers

I can breathe air in more and more

I make uncontrolled sighs less and less

what makes me serene is that my life was filled with admiration and gratitude

I admire brave people

I’m fascinated with independent people

I adore good people

all beings are fulfilling me

I am each being

cloudy rainy morning

I cannot make myself comfortable at the desk

my right leg is hurting me

I hope it will be easier when the stitches are taken off

patience only patience

I was sleeping

I’m drinking second cranberry tea

soon I will go to bed again

when I’m lying my leg almost doesn’t hurt me

every blessing is glory of the blessing itself

moving away

while moving at snail speed everything is swaying at snail slowness

I love philosophy

I love philosophy of stones

I love philosophy of plants

I love philosophy of animals

one is philosophy

philosophy of all beings

one is art

art of all beings

one is religion

religion of all beings

I rejoice everyone who is walking and running at the moment

run run all living beings

sing Louis Armstrong – whole Universe shudders

I was sleeping

I’m drinking cold chocolate

drenching rain has stopped

for drenching rain I’ve heard from one woman at the hospital

in the elevator while I was driven to make an X-ray of my lungs

it was magnificent that rain

those rain drops on the hospital windows

cold fresh air

philosophy of solidarity

Art is forgive – find a place for me within You

Art is forgive – gusts of wet wind

Art is forgive – suicide man’s letter

Art is forgive – a child which is playing on the open railroad

Art is forgive – children which are walking over the icy lake

Art is forgive – a boy who is walking over high rampart

Art is forgive – a girl who went into the night

Art is forgive – a boy on the roof of a wagon

Art is forgive – a boy who wasn’t caught in the first theft

Art is forgive – big birds are flying over a small child

Art is forgive – a knife in the hands of the bewildered one

Art is forgive – runaway child huddling in the straw bale

I wrote first twelve out of 144 Definitions of Art

new ones of this year from number 1152 to number 1296

I’m writing them for nine years now from 24^th May to 4^th June

today after getting out the stitches from the wound on my leg

it was painful

it’s nicer now. stitches are not cutting into the flesh

I have no strength

today is Bob Dylan’s seventieth birthday

coming from hospital I was cold

I couldn’t have enough sleep

today’s first twelve definitions are behind me

I slept enough

it’s warmer

there are no stitches in my skin

blessings are coming one after the other

music is not stopping

everyone who is happy please leave a crumb of happiness for the world’s happiness

music is not stopping

blessings are coming one after the other

path is not betraying

rose is constantly love-kissing

Art is forgive – stones are rolling down the cliff

Art is forgive – snow avalanche is sliding down the valley

Art is forgive – flaming lava is bursting out the crater

Art is forgive – high water has broken through the levees

Art is forgive – waterfall is falling down into the deep

Art is forgive – thunder is hitting a large tree

Art is forgive – whales are massively killing themselves by running against the shore

Art is forgive – large hail stones have destroyed all the crops

Art is forgive – soil is cracked from long lasting drought

Art is forgive – large quantities of oil are spilled into the sea

Art is forgive – explosion of atomic powerhouse has contaminated the whole surrounding

Art is forgive – weapons of all kinds are constantly being produced and used

Sherpas are carrying heavy loads

harbour workers are carrying heavy sacks

burlaks are hauling ships

witches are being burnt

music music music

let’s dance flowers

let’s dance trees

let’s dance clouds

I’m writing in order to make myself stronger

I’m writing in order to be less alone

I’m writing so that a runaway child huddling in the hay would have a warm heart

I made some cranberry tea in order to finish today’s blessings

I drank the tea and I didn’t write the blessings

slowly

word by word

only to move a bit

come closer to today’s end

only that

nothing more

enough

only that

Art is forgive – funeral of the impoverished people

Art is forgive – pains that are suffering those who are not entitled to medical care

Art is forgive – political prisoners which the world is always full of

Art is forgive – long lines in public kitchens

Art is forgive – homeless people who have lost their homes

Art is forgive – street children who live on their own on the streets

Art is forgive – dilapidation of insane asylums

Art is forgive – children who are working all day long

Art is forgive – slaughterhouses in which animals are being killed day-night

Art is forgive – horrible transportations in which animals are dying

Art is forgive – correctional facilities for juvenile children

Art is forgive – ships full of emigrants

a moment ago I walked for the first time on my own

when I went down underneath the

First House of All Beings and looked down the empty street I felt

indescribable beauty of the abyss of life in front of me

a child in the middle of the cosmos of life

I walked five hundred meters to the little park and I set on the bench

I was breathing deeply

watching the camomile in front of my feet

I remembered how in my childhood I was picking camomile with Kaja

one dog ran to me

I took off my topcoat but I immediately put it back on

on my way back I got sweaty on the stares

climbing the stairs feels good for my right leg which is in pain and bleeding

I’m sitting in my topcoat at the moment

I’m sweating

I changed my clothes

while sitting on the place where my leg is still bleeding it’s really tight

indescribable beauty of the abyss of life in front of me

a herd of horses on the river island

school of fish

birds are flying high in the heavenly rose

somebody

on

the

road

Art is forgive – everyday car accidents on the roads

Art is forgive – plane crashes with a lot of victims

Art is forgive – mining accidents with underground buried miners

Art is forgive – catastrophic earthquakes

Art is forgive – devastating tsunamis

Art is forgive – unstoppable pandemics

Art is forgive – camps with hungry people

Art is forgive – animal fights initiated by people

Art is forgive – execution of death sentences

Art is forgive – large forest fires

Art is forgive – atomic bombs testing

Art is forgive – throwing tear gas on demonstrators

because of the healing of the sternum

I should always sleep on my back and I wasn’t sleeping on my back

since I was thirty eight but always on the side so I can’t get enough sleep

I hope that I will have three short walks every day

this morning it felt really good being on the early sun

morning freshness and sun was already warming up my body

I was sitting on the bench

climbing the stairs does good to my leg

afterwards I slept for two hours

sleeping strengthens and heels

the wound on my leg is tight and it’s still bleeding a bit

now as well I can’t wait to lie down and sleep a bit

camomile smells wonderful in the sun

linden has blossomed

fruit is coming

flowers

grass

new potatoes

tomatoes

the honesty of beggary upsets me

Rimbaud

I’m missing the swallows

somebody

rose

on

the

road

Art is forgive – buildings collapse and they take away victims

Art is forgive – buildings collapse and sink into the rivers

Art is forgive – mass killers who are killing innocent kids and people

Art is forgive – kittens tied in a sack and thrown into the water

Art is forgive – poisoned street dogs

Art is forgive – fish caught in big nets

Art is forgive – birds caught in big nets

Art is forgive – executed sprinkled with lime in mass graves

Art is forgive – hung on the trees are hanging like a strange fruit

Art is forgive – dogs released to catch runaway slaves

Art is forgive – young girls sold in white slavery forced on prostitution

Art is forgive – political opponents who have been thrown form airplanes by police

I’m lacking sleep

back

vertebra

leg that’s still bleeding a bit

if I could lie on the side I would huddle in a foetal position

exuberant life takes place underneath the big rock in the grass

I’m thinking of good boy within me

he used to give me strength to bare even what I cannot

I see that good boy is tired

he’s walking

whenever his strength comes back

he’s singing

dancing

he is through the other-female

he is through the other-male

the other is

Little God

hips

shoulders

poem of the world is

good boy

Art is forgive – devastating bombings

Art is forgive – forced relocations

Art is forgive – genocides over nations and species

Art is forgive – mass starvations

Art is forgive – deadly propaganda

Art is forgive – spreading lies and hatred

Art is forgive – use of bio and psychological weapons

Art is forgive – fields mining with cluster bombs

Art is forgive – horrific experiments with animals

Art is forgive – using animals for war purposes

Art is forgive – using children for war purposes

Art is forgive – human celebrations of war atrocities

a moment ago there was a hail

balcony was full of ice

there was a lot of lightning and thunder last night but it burst out just now

everything is quiet now

air is fresh

mountain

I love the sounds of rain

they are lulling

caressing from within

rain can be heard

snow cannot be heard

if I’m protected while raining it’s indescribable pleasure

I’m surrendering to tranquillity

each cell within me enjoys

enjoyment of all animals enjoys within me

enjoyment of all plants enjoys within me

whenever body enjoys it celebrates immortality

enjoyment is the most obvious proof of immortality

tranquillity

identification

one being

Art is forgive – oil fields in flame

Art is forgive – airplanes which are crashing into skyscrapers

Art is forgive – racism and bigotry which are spreading

Art is forgive – hatred towards minorities and different ones

Art is forgive – constant system of control

Art is forgive – depression and fear from freedom

Art is forgive – borders which are constantly producing conflicts

Art is forgive – lives lost for symbols

Art is forgive – deadly drug addiction

Art is forgive – deadly alcoholism

Art is forgive – deadly patriotism

Art is forgive – deadly chauvinism

it felt good it felt good morning erection in my sleep

everything is only about grace

art of grace is in surrendering

of sun to the sun

to the big worm which was carried by water that flowed down the street yesterday

to snuggling

writing is snuggling

singing is love-kissing

snuggle my beloved males

love-kiss my beloved females

grace of art is in snuggling to 

sky and earth are snuggling

day and night are snuggling

innocent ones are snuggling

I cannot detach from the word snuggling it won me that much

it snuggled to me

at one moment I felt that all sense of the world depends on snuggling

snuggling to God

breathing through God

being God

love-kissing and snuggling to God

Art is forgive – evil of all scientific achievements for war purposes

Art is forgive – lie in all national histories

Art is forgive – justification of violence in all civilisations

Art is forgive – division of everything on ours and yours

Art is forgive – raising enemies in each family

Art is forgive – abuse of young people

Art is forgive – taboos and prejudices

Art is forgive – idolatry

Art is forgive – simplification of language

Art is forgive – detrimental effect of academism

Art is forgive – vanity of charm and entertainment

Art is forgive – fear of believing in light we are made of

first June again

cosmic mystery of the life itself

twenty two days after the heart surgery

while being at the hospital I stopped precisely noting of got-spent-gave

it’s hard to note every little thing

I thought I would be doing it to the end of this year but I’m giving up

I got in May from

Vera Varady 66660

Vladimir Macura 55000

Mirjana Lukic 45410

Zeljko Radic and Yasuka Sato 18315

Branko Popovic 14000

Vesna Milovic 11100

Nhandan Chirco 5500

Violeta Jovanovic 3600

Ivana Djokic-Saunderson 3000

Sun Mandic 2000

Srecko Stankovic 2000

Petar Mioloradovic 11000

angels

altogether I got

227685 dinars

for rent and bills food hygiene gels gauze bandages

pyjama medications bed elastic socks iPhone 5 I’ve spent

127993 dinars

I gave to others

11600

gratitude only gratitude

gratitude to the angels

gratitude to the first June again

gratitude to the life itself

I’m watching through the window

leaves of birch tree came to the fourth floor

sparrows are flying in front of the window

greenery is spreading to the horizon

I’m caressing the painful spot on my leg

Art is forgive – controls from the Cosmos

Art is forgive – supervisions and controls in the virtual world

Art is forgive – hiding lies and violence in the virtual world

Art is forgive – dependence of the virtual world

Art is forgive – alone ones

Art is forgive – forgotten ones

Art is forgive – abandon ones

Art is forgive – rejected ones

Art is forgive – forbidden ones

Art is forgive – ridiculed ones

Art is forgive – raped ones

Art is forgive – exposed to everyday violence in family

morning sweating after the first tea

I’m changing the t-shirt

I’m trying not to despond regardless of limitation

and everyday mild pains in my chests leg and back

Ludwig Wittgenstein is always helping me

people love Ludwig Wittgenstein a lot

circle and circles of Ludwig Wittgenstein

what draws people to Ludwig Wittgenstein

why they love him so much

logic love inexpressible

solitude

uncompromisingness

loving Wittgenstein

loving miraculous

ordinary in language

loving Robert Walser

people love Robert Walser as well

innocence

being a better man through Robert Walser

being a better man through Ludwig Wittgenstein

with boyhood through the whole life

boyhood which is constantly regenerating and reviving others

Art is forgive – locked up Nadezhda Tolokonnikova

Art is forgive – locked up Julian Assange

Art is forgive – forgive me soil

Art is forgive – forgive me water

Art is forgive – forgive me air

Art is forgive – forgive me light

Art is forgive – forgive me Earth

Art is forgive – forgive me Universe

Art is forgive – forgive me love

Art is forgive – forgive me life

Art is forgive – forgive me innocence

Art is forgive – forgive me God

new 144 Definitions of Art are behind me

art lead me

today is Kaja’s eighty seventh birthday

Kaja mother of all beings

Blessed Lady

I will eat a cake in Kaja’s glory

from the beginning of the year I’ve planned to decide

on the first of June should I break up working with my closed ones

as I see things didn’t change for the better but now I don’t have the strength to decide

my web-site with a new title page and new link which

I wanted to begin on the first of June I’ve also moved for the autumn

this morning I had a bit of a stomach ache and that made me sad

after seven years I saw Slavko Milekic and that felt good

we were talking about consciousness

harmony

it was wonderfully drizzling this morning

cold air did me good

I was dressed well so I enjoyed in the rain and cold

every day is a great day

every day is glory of all days

every day is a cause of all days

horse

whinnying

It is those who interfere not with their living

That are wise in exalting life.

Lao Tzu in the Chapter 75

The big and strong belong underneath.

The gentle and weak belong at the top.

Lao Tzu in the Chapter 76

cold

fog

morning drizzle

I’m looking forward to go outside

to join the snails

when I got out I took photos of roses

rose buds

overwhelming beauty has filled my body

like in the morning dream in which an older serious female doctor has

received me in the clinic and then she opened the door behind which appeared

a restaurant in which naked women and men were having lunch and making love

I thought of calling a friend and ask her to come to

caress her breasts and in that way nourish both myself and her

breasts kisses

the very breasts

the very kisses

it was drizzling

Ljilji came running

Fatima approached

Robert came from behind

Jasmin was in a big garbage container

those children really mean a lot to me

the same as the drizzle is full of life so are those children full of love

invisible motions are filling the atmosphere

innocent little souls are caressing souls of things and people

breasts on a palm of a hand

kisses a gaze

each gaze is a search for God

i

will

come

to

you

i

will

come

to

you

to

caress

my

breasts

i

will

come

to

you

to

heal

yourself

with

my

breasts

i

will

come

to

you

to

heal

yourself

and

invigorate

me

breasts are budding

buds are breasting

today is Milomir’s ninety second birthday

eternal boy

boy father

only as rejected we are worth something

Diary 2003

I was on the balcony

I was whisking hot chocolate on the balcony

wind is blowing

it got me excited

I immediately wished to mention it

wind in a warm day

I’m drinking the hot chocolate

I am missing a close person

last night I was thinking of a close person

about my close ones who will make a circle

around me and hopefully protect me from the system

ID

place of residence

health insurance

I don’t have strength

I’m missing reading

I cannot read because there is a possibility of pinching a spine nerve

I think of knitting and it brightened me up

knitting has reminded me of shoe shining

life outside of life

sentence which ends in endlessness

laws of indeterminacy helped the laws of determinacy

I was helped by the balcony. hot chocolate. wind and mentioning the wind

close person that I’m missing. my close ones which will hopefully save me from the

system. acknowledgement that I’m missing reading. knitting. shoe shining. life

outside of life. sentence which ends in endlessness. laws of indeterminacy

here

i

am

in

the

light

of

the

very

consciousness

consciousness

conscience

closeness

love of sisterhood and brotherhood of all beings

healing breasts

sweet kisses

breasts strawberries

buds kisses

Cherevic, Banoshtor, Susek, Neshtin, then further into the woods, right away

work for Nhandan Chirco Branko Popovic and Dragana Varadinac

Diary 2003

last night I was watching with great pleasure a film about Joe Strummer

persisting in innocence

dust from the road on the legs of a walker

heroism through form

cosmic dust on the back of a stranger

ethics of shape

for days

ethics of means

for years

calling

ancient bread of music

with admiration

with bowing

with bowing to admiration

with admiration to bowing

with monastic fires of all-unity

I started again to read the A People’s History of the United States

human struggle for freedom is touching

state is horrible because it constantly bans freedom

faces of Indian chiefs are faces of God

faces of white leaders of the USA are faces of clerks

faces of Indians are beaming with freedom and light

faces of white leaders are beaming with greed and crime

every being is being born with the fire of freedom in their heart

when enough of beings are guarding and keeping the fire of freedom

the fire of freedom lightens up the Universe

when majority of beings puts out the fire of freedom

within themselves dark is ruling the world

Joe Strummer

Indians

Nadezhda Tolokonnikova

Julian Assange

sandy shores

beauty of a magpie

but to give life for Greek light – that’s already Hölderlin

I said this morning to Ivana

art of living art

art of experience

experiment of art

it’s wonderful that art in Russian is experience and experience experiment

I’m missing the foetal position in which I can’t

put myself in because my sternum is not healed yet

it seems to me that I could gain strength in that position

to surrender to the goodness of the beginning

to bathe in tears of self-joy

I love art without experience and I love art of experience

I could talk for hours about

sensual art

non-sensual art

circles of fire

all-reduction

blue of the blue

God without God

God of God

constant poem

infinite singing

lilacs and hyacinths in the belly

up to here is green from here is purple

changing is changing

4:49pm

at this time a month ago I was admitted for medical examination in Zemun Hospital

heart surgery started after midnight

I’m still in shock

the same way I don’t know how I was born

I don’t know how I was born again after the surgery

it’s wonderful that poem is still here

that singing is not stopping

that all beings are even more all beings

that loyalty is not dying

that

god

is

even

dearer

to

god

Monday

first orgasm

first drawing of the Blue Rose

first recording of the Blue Film

first drawing of the 64 Buds

after the operation

Edward Snowden

only what is in interest of all beings is good

everything that is in interest only of some beings is evil

deer roaring

milk of young cows is foaming

hearts are beating in birds eggs

yes

sex appeal of daisies refines the world

horniness of rain showers gives satisfaction to the soil

unselfishness of the poor eroticises life without hope

yes

goodness depends of each being

beauty of the world is experience of each being

pain in my chests while sneezing is lessening

the average of last week walking was four kilometres and eight hundred meters

only life for all beings is life

life only for some beings is death

horses are whining

cows are mooing

wolfs are howling

bamboos are growing up to the skies

rivers are running wild out of the riverbeds

flickers of the Universe are flickering by each being

I thought of the mud of the river Avon which runs through Bristol

I thought of the healing mud of the swamp near Melenci

I thought of the dusks over the plain

of the night in which everything blends into one

I is singing to God

Diary 2003

the most beautiful is writing from the state of pure goodness

goodness is the most creative

everything is budding from possibilities

one thinks of anything and that already is

hobo writing

to the bank of a canal overgrown with bulrush

by the mudslide in which birds are nesting

step into the water up to the knees

stretching out on the warm sand

feeling the grace of a small poem

breathing the loyalty through all beings

writing from the state of goodness is writing through loyalty

goodness and loyalty are one

light of creating

hips in embrace

thighs in kissing

pleasure of sexual act permeates all shapes of life

pleasure of loyalty surrenders each being to all beings

pleasure of goodness fills each being

surrender to each other each other are constantly saying to each other

4:54pm

I just found out that my Bogdanka Poznanovic is gone

I was addressing her as God

she had beautiful tone of voice

she loved me

I met her and Dejan in Pula in nineteenth sixty nine

she was always smiling

today I will walk for her

hobo writing Bogdanka and me will be walking

there is no ending to vagrancy

as well as to writing

as well as to love

God

carnations on the table are fragrant

in the small bouquet of carnations there are ten buds as well

vigour buds

clitorises of constant horniness with life

music is spreading from the speakers

it gladdens me

singing is love-kissing

mystery of sounds

forebodings of the one and only heart

I’m moving on through swaying

like a fish

I’m just moving and sliding towards the next word

I’m swimming through the water of writing

I’m waving water water is waving me

fish-like

aerodynamic

freedom of each word is a condition of freedom for any word

freedom of creation is in the freedom of creation

freedom of singing is in the freedom of singing

simplicity always opens all the depth of simplicity

sometimes I sigh heavily with no control

birds fly towards birds

fishes swim towards fishes

roses smell with roses

shapes of meaning float by shapes of meaning

every soul runs towards the other soul

everything trembles from running towards

running-towards-like

tiny-like

love flies fish-like

love floats aerodynamically

carnations on the table are fragrant

kisses of constant horniness with life