POEMS

HYDROGEN

(Scientific poetry)

SILICIUM

*

Crystal food

of the sea

*

You are the Earth's lover

*

Enslaved you dream another planet

HYDROGEN

In the eye of apparition

By a bluish light

Little

trembling flame

was devouring the darkness

ATOMS

In the field of smokes

a flock of imprisoned birds sleep

If I hear their call

If I shoot at them by star

They will jump out

like secret hinds

into a moved world

ELECTRON

Once he will give me a gold apple

as a gift

Entombed in its

succulent sub consciousness

(1960)

EXPERIENCES ON THE PLANET

(Scientific poetry)

(CRYSTALS)

Great ice oceans radiant of light

Were turning their faces to the eternal sun.

In the hell of volcano the fire scattered

Fiery roses of helium and hydrogen.

Crystals great like the earth's towns

Hanging on the threads of liquid Atmosphere

Stunned me with their indecent forms.

Entering the crystal spheres

I was shouting my name

Which then spread, echoing,

Into the most distant corners of the Universe

GRASHOPPERS

My arrival

Has excited just the green-yellow grasshoppers

Of unimaginable size.

Catching with their hind legs

The sticky morning light

They were making very skilfully

Barricades

Of the numberless cubes of quartz

Closing access to me

To the planet's centre

STORM

Stars were melting. It is their power to be

exciting. I watched, sleepy, from a flower:

the stars melted drop by drop. Through the

atmosphere unpleasant odours of starry liquid

spread. A great galactic storm was approaching.

Puce flowers were sprouting in the Space.

The anxiety of animals warned to danger.

Grasshoppers were leaving the planet in swarms.

Ants penetrated deep toward the core. Clouds

of birds turned off the sun. Entrails of the beasts

having drunk some of the fragrant star liquid set

aflame. They roared painfully in the darkness.

The fire was spreading first by circulation of blood

all over their bodies. Then explosions of inner

organs happened. The heart exploded most fiercely.

It soared into space like a fiery ball and lit

the planet for a moment.

(METALS)

I listened to breathing of metals

Similar to breathing of beasts

* * *

Metals warred against air

Moved through underground corridors like moles,

undermining stability of the planet

Air entered the crevices on the crust

And attacked them trying to cause

Chemical changes in their characters

They swallowed it greedily

And then digested for a long time

(EGG)

On the leaf of a copper-colored herb

A butterfly laid an egg

Of human eye size.

That egg is a little planet

That will wake up

In three light years.

Then so woken

It will orbit around a flower

Like around its own Sun.

(MEASURINGS)

Measuring of the earth

Like a measuring of death

Measuring of the sun

Like a measuring of stars

Geometry of my dream

Corresponded

To geometry of the Universe

MACHINES

Machines were catching us

With their sharp gears

And ground slowly meat and bones.

Blood flew away by special drains

For irrigation of carnivore herbs

It was a systematic destruction of our bodies

But our spirit even more curiously

Continued research into stars.

(WATER)

Water advanced from the east and from the west

As if willing to show that it is the matter

The Universe is made of.

Initially I laughed at it.

I breathed the air. Walked on a narrow

Belt of the planet that was not flooded.

Hunted beasts in forests.

Fruit was falling down from tree branches

Into high grasses and hiding before

Greedy eyes of grasshoppers.

Stars twinkled mystically in the

Space and spoke to me about galactic

Roads. Then I admired fire.

I sacrificed blood of my daughters to it.

It never extinguished in front of

My tents. At evening it would pleasantly

Permeated my bones with its warmth.

Water still advanced.

I began think more and more about it.

I did not laugh any more. I saw its

Voracious face and was afraid.

It flooded the earth and forests, drowned

The beasts. Then it began to fill

Atmosphere. I was helpless.

Finally it covered stars and extinguished

The Sun. All my being was now

Occupied with water.

( From the poem "Planet” 1960 - 1963)

WINTER SNOW RUNNING HORSE

winter snow

winter running

winter horse

snow winter

snow running

snow horse

running winter

running snow

running horse

winter

snow

winter

winter

snow

snow

winter

snow

horse

winter

running winter

winter

running

snow

winter running

running

winter

running

horse

horse

running winter

horse

running snow

horse

running

running

horse

running horse

horse

snow

winter

horse

snow

snow

horse

snow running

horse

snow

horse

MAN MAYBE DEAD WALK

1.

man maybe dead walk

man maybe walk dead

man dead maybe walk

man dead walk maybe

man walk dead maybe

2.

man maybe

man dead

man walk

3.

maybe man

maybe dead

maybe walk

4.

dead man

dead maybe

dead walk

5.

man man man

man man maybe

man man dead

man man walk

6.

maybe dead man

maybe dead maybe

maybe dead dead

maybe dead walk

7.

dead dead man

dead dead maybe

dead dead dead

dead dead walk

8.

walk walk man

walk walk maybe

walk walk dead

walk walk walk

(Permutative Poetry l970)

WITH NOODLES CERTENLY

(Computer poetry)

2.

MAY BE I DON’T WANT DON’T FORGET

ZAJECAR RICH SOUP

ACCORDING TO THIS I’LL SPEND SUMMER

IN MARRIAGE HAVE I RIGHT

AT SLAVIJA CALMS DOWN

ACCORDING TO THIS WHILE I’M GOINGG

MAYBE I DON’T WANT IT’S TIME

NEVER DON’T FORGET

FFOR SITTING IT’S TIME

BUT HOW I’LL LOVE

3.

CUT IT OUT OF COURSE

YOU ARE RIGHT DON’T FORGET

WELL TO MIX ON ROAST

ORGANIST I’LL SPEND SUMMER

AT SLAVIJA DON’T FORGET

I’LL HAVE DON’T FORGET

ON DIKE RICH SOUP

STRAIN WHILE I’M GOING

FROM PENALTY LET ME SUGGEST

STRAIN I’LL FLY

6.

NEVER LET ME SUGGEST

STRAIN WHILE I’M GOING

CUT IT OUT I’M SWIMMING

WITH NOODLES CERTANLY

I’LL HAVE YMY HAIR CUT A CAIR

ORGANIST I’D LIEKE

IN AMARRIAGE I’M COMING BACK

WELL TO MIX ON ROAS

NO INTEREST HAVE I RIGHT

10.

WELL TO MIX I’LL FLY

IN MARRIAGE MEANWHILE

IN MARRIAGE DON’T FORGET

AT THE SAME TIME LET ME SUGGEST

WITH NOODLES I’D LIKE

ACCORDING TO THIS WHILW I’M GOING

FOR SITTING I DON’T WANT

MAYBE NOT I’LL LOVE

ORGANIST IT’S TIME

12.

FOR WINTER RICH SOUP

FROM PENALTY I’D LIKE

STRAIN I’LL EAT

IN MARRIAGE RICH SOUP

NO INTEREST I’M COMING BACK

MAYBE NOT I INFLUENCE

ACCORDING TO IT SURELY

WELL TO MIX RICH SOUP

I HAVE MY HAIR CUT FROM THE OLD TIMES

20.

NO INTEREST IT’S TIME

BUT HOW I SWIM

ACCORDING TO IT I’D LIKE

BUT HOW YOUR HOBBY

I’LL WALK I’LL FLY

ON DIKE ON ROAST

FFOR WINTER CALMS DOWN

I HAVE MY HAIR CUT I’LL FLY

NEVER AT CAIR

AT THE SAME TIEME I’M SWIMMING

1969 -1970

GIFT-PARCEL

(Ready-made and phenomenological poetry)

TOILET BRUSH

hygiene of toilet bowl

you will maintain easier

if you purchase a nice

and practical brush

made of

plastic

FECES

A physiological excrement

consists of water

secret

bacteria

and unused part of

food

Normal faeces

have not mucus or blood

do not stink much

are of sour taste

SHEEP

Domestic sheep is:

peaceful

patient

meek

stupid

slavishly obedient

unwilling

timid

in short

an incredibly boring

anima

RAVEN

If you take a raven

from its nest

as a young bird

he will become

very tame

He will learn up:

to speak

to bark like a dog

to coo like a pigeon

and to laugh

like a man

1970.

BUY ONLY SIGNALIST POOETRY

(Technological poetry)

in every house, hall, institution!

new in Yugoslav market!

the already known industry of poetry

"miroljub todorovic" has begun with

production (fabrication)

of the most modern poetical texts.

a high-quality poetry is in question

that can be read, watched,

heard, drawn up, exhibited,

roared at meetings, cited,

reproduced in textbooks, put

on walls, parquet, concrete, advertising

wall boards, trains, ships, aeroplanes.

in these products that can not be

even imported for they are rare in the world

an enormous interest exists in

Yugoslav and foreign market.

individuals, households, caterers,

institutions, railway, car

industry, project organizations,

publishing houses and clinics can ask already in this

month for our new product

signalist poetry.

the new product fabricated with the

most modern devices electronic

calculators and by complicated

mathematical and other exact methods

is of high quality and is not more expensive at all

than the already outdated and exceeded

products of the same kind.

MIROLJUB TODOROVIC IS OUT OF ORDER

A year ago i bought miroljub todorovic of

Czechoslovakian production. at the purchase

i didn't get written warranty, but i considered

it unnecessary anyway, for a miroljub todorovic

is not an easily spoilt goods. immediately after

the purchase i found its eye is out of order and

that therefore miroljub todorovic is not precise.

i tried to repair it, but my effort was useless.

so now i have a miroljub todorovic i can not use.

LET US SPREAD OUR MIROLJUBS TODOROVICS

nowhere like here i saw

so many miroljubs todorovics

every morning miroljubs todorovics

harness eight red horses into a coach

every afternoon miroljub todorovics

strike exact time

last night i fell asleep in trousers' pocket

of my miroljub todorovic

miroljub todorovic is drafted

to be in the first fighting lines

it is necessary to discern

what miroljub todorovic is and what he is not

a further reorganization of miroljub todorovic

will lead up to an inner stability

miroljub todorovic does not leave

a man to himself

a man with miroljub todorovic

doesn't feels alone

it is clear that we can be

satisfied completely with miroljub todorovic

miroljub todorovic acts

as a strong gravitational force

let us spread our miroljubs todorovics

I WANT TO BE A DRUM

i want to be a drum artificial

eyelashes are in fashion

wake up for you will have troubles

with digestive organs

Niagara has begun operating

down with Europe

live Japanese Antarctica expedition

do you accept modern fashion

woman always offers hand first

try to exclude thoughts from your head

life in brothels is not same everywhere

what does Moscow want in Beijing

it doesn't upset us much

the earth's magnetic field has shape of a comet

i admire coats made of camel hair

you have a runner on your stocking

rest on Chang Kay Chek mattresses

while drinking castor oil

I WILL GIVE YOU A RECIPE FOR DRESSED

MIROLJUB TODOROVIC

knead with water half kilogram of

miroljub todorovic

cut him into tiny sheets

bake it through on a warmed stove

in deep bowl mix

ten fresh miroljub todorovices

all this then stir well

women like miroljub todorovic

plump

better not to make plump

miroljub todorovic

when thin he bakes better

bake carefully your miroljub todorovic

till his skin gets red

miroljub todorovic with his skin red

cut into slices

and serve

ARE YOU SOCIAL

swept are the pavements by Aeroflot to Osaka

no doubt the excerting organs as

fundaments of the budget policy sometimes

meet the metal gnawer and architect well-known

model but I do not attend together with viruses

of contagious hepatitis or males with kidneys

the execution of court function and the procedure

on the stomach side i heard that you imported carpet

from parisian shops without a delay

by indirect method as blood pressure

or candelabras in the walls of veins maybe

the pre-nuptial neurosis in various colors

a step closer to the abortion who functions as

the authority who can not girls are you

social

(From the book ‘’Pig is excellent Swimmer’’, 1971)

I'M MOUNTING ROCINANTE AGAIN

(Aleatoric and stochastic poetry)

WHEN I AM AN ENGLISH FOOTBAL NATIONAL TEAM PLAYER

when i am an English football

national team player with three transplanted

organs from same donor please

free me from head cold i will spent summer holidays

on a mountain like in a dentist-medical

academy and let history of mankind

remain in scars i will find

a formula for all and everybody before i

arrive to Copenhagen on a wooden wheel

and glass cases mute crocodiles will begin to sing

like crickets on grill

and when i put me in order with a chimney sweep

brush and winter kohlrabi in

my pockets excuse me for having

to write to you i will become a red

horse in a golden ashtray i do not need

a box of aspirins do not exclude power to me

i know for those fairy

companies in violet corsets

but i still do not know to dream away

nine thousand bees on a flower of

dandelion

1969.

EIGHT CENTURIES AFTER

the world is full

of green bugs

tv-set owners

vitamin c

corpse thieves

those parking improperly

in Dobracha's street

every Friday afternoon

while I introduce you

to five candidates

for mister universe

Mediterranean air

suitable for crops

foamy toothpaste

my poor luck

funny girl

with black pearls

cruises over Texas

perhaps for thousand dollars per month

condemns American intervention

opens shells

looks for Genghis khan grandchildren

your definition of democracy

and i exist

such as i am

with half litre of beer

and three fried eggs

on a spacious terrace

of Hilton hotel

eight centuries after

with electronic language

on an enclosed porch

neither on the sky nor on the earth

I'M MOUNTING ROCINANTE AGAIN

seven days

and seven nights i was mourning over

commander Che

in two most rainy towns

of the northern France

on the earth covered with blood

in foamed air

welcoming spider's mountain

with scaffold

but don't tell me

i am in the twentieth century

the year seventy two

the day fiftieth

let it be said by an apple

and let be said by worm

of ticklish feet

magic mirror

shackled Prometheus

on the moon

I’m rising from the dead

with lot of things

not to be forgotten

I’m buying lightning rod

strawberry ice-cream

a quarter of mankind

the planet sleeps

in the sticky space

of my cut-off hand

still with arms on

i leave for travel again

I’m mounting Rocinante again

1969-1972.

TO ALPHABET OF CRIPPLED WOLF

(apeironistic poetry)

I'm burrowing through you. You bone-breaking

Cave of Serbian language. Blood and graves.

Bee bread and honey. Curse in fertile land. Sceptre

in manoeuvre. I'm covering my face with soil.

I rejoice at the birth. Olympus and Rome among

your teeth. Alphabet of crippled wolf. Cruel and

shaggy. By sticky spit you shackle up the contagious

deities. You bless with fetid urea.

VID

In lakes of the north. In Baltic fogs.

Time dismembers itself. I have woken up.

Descended from the mountain. In the beginning

of summer. Light. War. And Vid. Your breath

is ruddy. Like a wild rose flower. You supreme

deity. Of ancient Serbian religion. Axes smell.

Blood. And burning sacrifices. In a horn. Honey

brandy. Foretells a harvest.

YOU RUDDY MAGICIAN

From Spasm. Hissing word. Stairway

toward sanctuary. All my beaters.

Downpours wash poems away.

From walls. From books. You made

Homer blind. You crazy warrior. Ice

conquers. Fever from steel.

Mercury cools. Jupiter

explodes. Slavs in front of

purple towers of Constantinople.

They gnaw my skull. Wild

Thracian dogs. Water nymphs from

whirlpools. You stand in air. With one leg.

In the Mediterranean Sea. October

closes roads. You ruddy magician.

Neither in the sky. Nor on the earth.

TO THE DARK BLUE DEMON

By the way. Mortuary. Rain. Wavering. Germ

of speech. You are lying under a sunflower.

Seductive swan. Apotheosis of the unconsciousness.

Human turmoil. You dark blue demon. Am I a bead.

Or a god. In a wild paradise. Closed. In innocent words

Play of green pebbles. Spring. Spring. Strong sinews

of the world. You are tempting the language. Foaming

of lymph. They rise from abyss. Firm snow and morning

star. Monster watches. Interior and burn. It is a time of

decision. In a ruddy morning song. Graves freeze. Flower

field. Entropy. They are more and more away. Chasers.

Hostel burns. Under the mask of hellebore. You shiver

noisily. Skin has emptied. Where is the end? In innocent

words. Ocean boils.

(From the book ‘’Virgin Byzantium, 1994)

STALIN EATS JAGODA

Desirous are gods. Of fat bees.

Of human broth. Of song-singers. Tou gulp

Eldorado. From Kazakh steppes. “Declaration

of Human rights”. Frenzy and

explosion. Blooming of death. From particles

of awareness. Golden map. A Thousand-year

empire. Sprouting up from the dark. it is the wheel

of history. Phosphorous flame on the lips.

The holy madman. In hell. They sculpt paradise.

You eavesdrop winter. Heart of blind father.

Stalin eats Jagoda. In dungeons of Lubjanka.

“My Beast, my beautiful age”. Next to black

fire. In Siberia. Sings dead Mandelstam.

About another one. Crimson. Morning. Of Adamism.

Jagoda Genrih Grigorjevich (1891 – 1938), high official of the Soviet Union. People’s Minister of the Interior, 1933 – 1936. Oversaw purges, executions and the exile to Siberia of non-conformists. In the year 1937, he, himself, was killed, a victim to Stalin’s purges.

jagoda (Serbian) = strawberry

Lubjanka = Huge gulag (prison/dungeon) located in Moscow.

Mandelstam, Osip Emilevich (1891 – 1938), Russian poet, founder and theoretician of the creative movement Akmeism (Adamism). Exiled to Siberia in 1934, where he died in 1938.

“My Beast, my beautiful age” – This is a verse from the anthological poem “Age” by Osip Mandelstam, written in 1923.

(From the book ‘’Water-Snake drinks Rainwather’’, 1987)

SHIT IS THE INSTRUMENT OF THE UNIVERSE

as time passes, get yourself some good shit

for every occasion and every home

our shit

favorable credits for buying shit

our shit is certified

our shit is bacteriological certified

every year more than four thousand

new shit

insure your shit

demand exclusively hard shit

contemporary functional and modern

shit

which kind of shit do you use in your

household

our shit has rich tradition

for only five dinars you will get

in plastic box a unique shit

try shit and you will get

in plastic box a unique shit

try shit and you will be enraptured

shit considers its consumers

five years guarantee for shit

we reward best buyers of our shit

this year 500 million pieces of shit will be

sold

visit the seventh international fair of shit

can domestic shit, by its quality,

compete with foreign shit

who is the biggest producer of shit

shit is the mirror which reflects

the whole world

shit doesn’t create art which is already

created

shit is the arranger of future art

shit is the instrument of the universe

shit is the fifth world’s power

shit will soon sign the contract

on non-spreading of nuclear shit

THE IDEAL SHIT

your shit is a little late

my shit works precisely

i have attuned my shit

it is time to shit

you are already shitty

yes i just got shitty

i will go back shitting

right away

*

how did you shit

i shat very well

i have an easy shit

be careful not to shit again

i’m not shitty any more

i don’t suffer from shitting

i couldn’t take a shit until midnight

why do you shit so late

i can’t shit earlier

it is better to shit earlier

i’m used to shitting later

*

how do you cope with shit

illuminate sincerely for us the image of your shit

when was the first time you felt like

dealing with shit

isn’t it that because of shit you neglected

your family

what are your impressions from your annual

inspection of shits

are you against the imprinting

offoreign shits

just what does the ideal shit

look like

after the success of your shits

how did you manage to stay humble

which shit do you like best

(From the Poem ‘’Shot into Shit’’, 1970)

Translated by Slobodan Škerović