Joe DiSabatino

AMERICAN

 

ARTIST

Joe is a retired psychotherapist and management trainer. He's a self-taught artist who painted as a hobby most of his life and then full-time since 2009. He has lived at Meherabad, India since 2010 and moved back to the States in early 2015. Joe is also a playwright--he wrote and directed four plays during his stay at Meherabad, including the 2012 Baba birthday play. Joe is currently living in Myrtle Beach, SC.
 
Joe can be contacted at: disabatinojoe@gmail.com"

CLICK ON THE IMAGES TO ENLARGE


"BABA AT WINDOW"
"BABA AT WINDOW"

2015

"BABA IN BLUE"
"BABA IN BLUE"
"BABA IN CHAIR"
"BABA IN CHAIR"
"Baba and Mehera"
"Baba and Mehera"
"BABA IN TENT"
"BABA IN TENT"
"BABA WITH BOARD"
"BABA WITH BOARD"
"BABA VISION"
"BABA VISION"
"BABA IN A PURPLE ROBE" ( after Matisse )
"BABA IN A PURPLE ROBE" ( after Matisse )
"O PARAMATMA !"
"O PARAMATMA !"
"PERFECT ONE"
"PERFECT ONE"
"CORNUCOPIA OF LOVE"
"CORNUCOPIA OF LOVE"
"FIRE OF LOVE"
"FIRE OF LOVE"
"I AM FORM/FORMLESS"
"I AM FORM/FORMLESS"
"GLOW"
"GLOW"
"Baba Leaning on Hands"
"Baba Leaning on Hands"
"Here Comes the Sun"
"Here Comes the Sun"
"Baba with Headband"
"Baba with Headband"
"Perfect One"
"Perfect One"
"Baba and Inner Twins"
"Baba and Inner Twins"
"Baba Awakening"
"Baba Awakening"

BABA PLACES IN INDIA

 

"BABA'S CHAIR"
"BABA'S CHAIR"
"FLAG TOWER"
"FLAG TOWER"
"HIS DOOR IS ALWAYS OPEN"
"HIS DOOR IS ALWAYS OPEN"
"LOWER MEHERABAD"
"LOWER MEHERABAD"
"MEHERABAD MORNING"
"MEHERABAD MORNING"
"MEHERAZAD AFTERNOON"
"MEHERAZAD AFTERNOON"
"SACRED GROUND"
"SACRED GROUND"
"MORNING ARTI"
"MORNING ARTI"
"EVENING ARTI"
"EVENING ARTI"
"SILENCE NIGHT"
"SILENCE NIGHT"
"3 JARS"
"3 JARS"

THE CENTER AT MYRTLE BEACH

 

"CENTER TREES"
"CENTER TREES"
"LAGOON CABIN"
"LAGOON CABIN"
"BOATHOUSE - AUTUMN 1"
"BOATHOUSE - AUTUMN 1"
"BOATHOUSE - AUTUMN 2"
"BOATHOUSE - AUTUMN 2"
"PILGRIM'S REST STOP"
"PILGRIM'S REST STOP"
"FOOTBRIDGE DIPTYCH"
"FOOTBRIDGE DIPTYCH"
"THE WAY HOME"
"THE WAY HOME"
"QUIETUDE"
"QUIETUDE"
"CENTER LAKE"
"CENTER LAKE"

OTHER TOPICS

"STILL LIFE WITH BABA"
"STILL LIFE WITH BABA"
"Enlightened One"
"Enlightened One"
"Gautama Buddha"
"Gautama Buddha"
"1. Girl with Guitar I"
"1. Girl with Guitar I"
"Girl with Guitar III"
"Girl with Guitar III"
"Girl with Guitar V"
"Girl with Guitar V"
"The Birth of Venus"
"The Birth of Venus"

POETRY by JOE DiSABATINO

 

another song of the new life                              

 

 

 

 

it’s the end of an era time to let go

 

truth has been buried nothing you do can revive it

 

if the prophets still count perhaps some will survive it

 

let go of hope let go of desire

 

let go of the future, it no longer exists

 

your garden’s been ravaged

 

it’s boiled down to—just this

 

 

 

the cry of the heart

 

the sigh of the soul

 

this song of the new life

 

 

 

let go of revenge, let go of forgiveness

 

there’s nothing to do it’s past all redemption

 

as your house burns be a silent witness

 

let go of knowledge power bliss

 

don’t try to understand any of this

 

forget making a difference our earth and its needs

 

it’s the end of an era time to let it bleed

 

 

 

the cry of the heart

 

the sigh of the soul

 

this song of the new life

 

 

 

like the wildfires in the canyons

 

and along the Blue Ridge crests

 

the darkness that’s descended feeds on your holiness

 

let go of your pictures your dreams your secrets

 

let go of your comforts your candy your weakness

 

you’re helpless you’re trapped grab a few clothes

 

because it’s the end of an era time to foreclose

 

 

 

the cry of the heart

 

the sigh of the soul

 

this song of the new life

 

 

 

the smoke’s got you choking

 

you run for an exit but the door’s all aflame

 

if you still think there’s a way out

 

you’re deluded, you’re joking

 

abandon all effort don’t expect grace just look at the trees

 

let go of your spouse your money your co-dependencies

 

 

 

the cry of the heart

 

the sigh of the soul

 

this song of the new life

 

 

 

abandon all hope for the end days to come

 

no comet no Nibiru no savior’s gonna punish them

 

the Mayan’s got it wrong, Nostradamus confused you

 

the glaciers are melting temperature’s in the pink

 

name your favorite animal…never mind it just went extinct

 

the Pleiadians changed their mind decided we ain’t worth it

 

now they watching from space the end of our era as if God himself cursed it

 

 

 

the cry of the heart

 

the sigh of the soul

 

this song of the new life

 

 

 

if you want a prediction here’s one that will scare you

 

it’s gonna get worse and there’s nothing to prepare you

 

people are going to jump out of windows, others go insane

 

they’ll be eating their clothes if they’re not already naked

 

but don’t get depressed your despair and disappointment

 

are the wounds that will save you, they’re your holy ointment

 

because it’s the end of an era and there’s no way to fake it

 

 

 

the cry of the heart

 

the sigh of the soul

 

this song of the new life

 

 

 

plastic fills the oceans, it’s what the seabirds eat

 

the fracking in Oklahoma where He collided with our deceit

 

man-made earthquakes and everything that’s blighted

 

shake the gardens of our dreams there’s nowhere to retreat

 

so bow your head low and lay it on His feet

 

hold tight His damaan while you sing ‘bring it on!’

 

yes, hold tight His damaan while you sing ‘bring it on!’

 

 

 

the cry of the heart

 

the sigh of the soul

 

this song of the new life

 

don’t ever snap

 

 

 

Baba, don’t ever snap Your silence

 

don’t suspend it, bend it, or end it

 

forge it deeper, stronger, longer

 

make it muscle out the incessant noise

 

bring on the much-needed poise

 

 

 

in our hearts, make every day a soundless day

 

every night a holy night

 

 

 

unleash a Biblical deluge of torrential serenity

 

flood the world with waves of shattering stillness

 

capsize the overcrowded boats

 

of our rudderless minds

 

drown us in Your crowning noiselessness

 

 

 

in our hearts, make every day a soundless day

 

every night a holy night

 

 

 

pile drive the steel rod of Your quietude

 

deep into the bedrock of the world soul

 

then raise high the love beams of Your Name

 

high into the endless blue of Your sacred hush

 

at least do this much--

 

 

 

in our hearts, make every day a soundless day

 

every night a holy night

 

 

 

aim the mighty arrow of Your unutterableness

 

into the sickened heart of the world’s violence

 

now’s the time to unsheath

 

the divine love-forged sword of Your sealed lips

 

cut off the head of the devouring word-beast

 

 

 

in our hearts, make every day a soundless day

 

every night a holy night

 

 

 

Baba, don’t ever snap Your silence

 

don’t suspend it, bend it, or end it

 

forge it deeper, stronger, longer

 

let it muscle out the incessant noise

 

bring on the much-needed poise

 

 

 

in our hearts, make every day a soundless day

 

and every night a holier night

 

leads us to You

 

 

 

 

when the morning light seeps through

 

and I’m not sure why I’m still here to receive it

 

when I think it should be over I remember You

 

then the wonder, the glory, the rapture of it all

 

has me raise a glass inside and say…

 

here’s to the times we got on the wrong bus

 

here’s to the Truth always there to sustain us

 

here’s to our screams, our anguish, our pain

 

here’s to the quiet pulse of Your beautiful Name

 

here’s to Your whispers deep in our hearts

 

here’s to our courage to make a clean start

 

here’s to the wind, the rain and the stars

 

here’s to the dandelions, roses, gentle guitars

 

here’s to the ways that lead us to You

 

here’s to the choices that darken our light

 

here’s to our deceit, deafness, false delights

 

here’s to the loves we squandered and lost

 

here’s to our wounds, the sword and the Cross

 

here’s to the wisdom we lost and we found

 

here’s to the turmoil deep underground

 

here’s to the ways that lead us to You

 

here’s to the stillness inside the sky’s laughter

 

here’s to the glitter we’ve still chasing after

 

here’s to Your wish to move into our houses

 

here’s to our teachers--our friends, our children, our spouses

 

here’s to the gift that we get more than one chance

 

here’s to the times You ask us to dance

 

here’s to our elders we often neglect

 

here’s to the explosion of joy we’re afraid to expect

 

here’s to the thunder, the signs on the horizon

 

here’s to the shoulders we’ve often cried on

 

here’s to whatever keeps us small and insane

 

here’s to the animal inside us gnawing away at our chains

 

here’s to Your voice singing from some distant shore

 

here’s to whatever we have lived and gladly died for

 

and here’s to whatever leads us to You

 

remembrance

 

 

 

 

Baba, I don’t ever want to remember You

 

remember You?

 

remembering is for people like me

 

lost, in desperate need of clues

 

who’ve forgotten

 

whose deep heart is stuffed…

 

with Maya’s cotton

 

 

 

why would I need to remember You?

 

when I wake up in the morning

 

and there’s a cobra on my chest

 

do I try to remember it?

 

I’ve been looking into Your eyes

 

for countless ages now

 

waiting for You to strike…

 

remember?

 

 

 

Baba, please don’t ever

 

let me remember You

 

that means You left

 

and I’m left with only a memory

 

memories float on the sea of time

 

the ocean floor is littered

 

with their broken shells

 

 

 

I have no memories of You

 

I’ve never spent any time with You

 

because where Truth persists

 

we’re one beyond the mind

 

You don’t remember me either

 

since You alone exist

 

 

 

Baba, I don’t ever want to remember You

 

remember You?

 

remembering is for people like me

 

lost, in desperate need of clues

 

who’ve forgotten

 

whose deep heart is stuffed…

 

with Maya’s cotton

 

 

 

 

well, ok…remember You…

 

once told me to love You

 

more and more

 

now I can say

 

please love Yourself more and more in me…

 

better yet, let’s forget about me

 

totally love Yourself in all

 

so remembering can be forgotten

 

once and for all

 

 

 

Baba, I don’t ever

 

want to remember You

 

I want to know You…now

 

thank you for the change

 

 

 

summer, 1966

 

the new jersey beach, ocean city

 

late evening, i’m prowling the boardwalk

 

a few hours to kill

 

before my night watchman shift at the hotel

 

a black man heavily drunk and slobbering

 

bumps into me

 

he thrusts his dirty hand into my face

 

“got any change, man?”

 

i push his arm away, “no, get away!”

 

disgusted, i walk on past him

 

so far, so human

 

 

 

was it You who gave me the change in that moment?

 

was it You who changed my frightened disgust

 

to compassion in an instant?

 

was it You who turned my feet on a dime

 

and made them walk back to the drunk

 

was it You who made me say

 

“i’m not going to give you any money

 

but if you’re hungry i’ll buy you a meal

 

at that diner over there”

 

and was it You who smiled like that

 

through those rotten, broken teeth?

 

 

 

as he gratefully devoured

 

the cheeseburger, french fries and hot coffee

 

ketchup dribbling down his stubbled chin

 

was it You who surfed into my heart

 

on an ocean wave of love

 

for this stranger, this bum, this human wreck

 

suddenly now my friend, my brother, my self?

 

 

 

back in my small closet of a room

 

stretched out on my bed

 

one hour to kill before clocking in to the night shift

 

was it You who flooded my being

 

with wave after wave after wave of oceanic love?

 

and it was You, wasn’t it, who made me realize

 

that was You in disguise

 

 

 

this poem is for you, my black brother--

 

wherever you are, whatever your name:

 

THANK YOU for the change

 

traveling the path of love

 

 

 

 

dancing with You

 

alone in the lagoon cabin

 

raindrops drumming the roof

 

 

 

flat on the boathouse deck

 

devouring the noon sun of You

 

in the reeds a blue heron

 

 

 

beneath the footbridge

 

where You once paused

 

the white water lily blossom

 

 

 

traveling the path of love

 

 

 

a lifetime of mistakes

 

washed clean

 

by the fragrance of wisteria

 

 

 

to die before you die

 

listen to what the

 

magnolia bloom whispers

 

 

 

if I could only surrender

 

the way that alligator

 

stares at nothing all day

 

 

 

traveling the path of love

 

 

 

walking this path

 

Original Kitchen to Your house

 

my shadow follows cautiously

 

 

 

leave the church, the synagogue,

 

come out to inhale His infinite beauty

 

in this single camellia bloom

 

 

 

on Silence Day

 

a long conversation

 

with a bemused green lizard

 

 

 

traveling the path of love

 

 

 

today dolphins

 

just beyond the breakers

 

Your Name weaving everywhere

 

 

 

pelicans in the wake

 

of a shrimp boat

 

a crowd in Your bedroom this morning

 

 

 

the sand in Your garden

 

raked clean of footprints

 

no trace of self for a moment

 

 

 

traveling the path of love

 

 

 

summer moon swimming

 

inside the midnight lake

 

shimmering in my heart, Your face

 

 

 

over the boat house

 

a full moon wanders

 

Your face transits deep within

 

 

 

inside  the Lagoon Cabin

 

irises on either side of Your empty chair

 

outside, roses demand their turn

 

 

 

traveling the path of love

 

 

 

morning tea enjoyed

 

on the boathouse deck

 

in the company of dragonflies

 

 

 

Christmas day

 

on the Center

 

You gifted pine cones everywhere

 

 

 

there is no god

 

but God

 

in this lilac blossom

 

 

 

traveling the path of love

 

 

 

 

in Your bedroom

 

a fragrance not from flowers

 

sends me in search of that garden

 

 

 

tonight, inside the Lagoon Cabin,

 

the whirling of galaxies,

 

Venus and Mars Argentine tango

 

 

 

I walk the trail

 

to Your house

 

for so many briar-torn lifetimes

 

 

 

traveling the path of love

 

 

 

lovers surround Your bed

 

outside the window

 

a jealous angel

 

 

 

Lagoon Cabin steps—

 

worn sneakers, torn laces

 

how many lifetimes of wandering?

 

 

 

sometimes I face the highway

 

sometimes the Ocean

 

the heart is that which turns

 

 

 

while traveling the path of love