Some Additional Notes On Love

Some Additional Notes On Love

If I didn’t write you poems
I’d withdraw from the light fugazi
I’d limp down the avenue
Toward the grand central station
Of imaginary oblivion
With no time piece
My love too much a form of agony

If I didn’t write you poems
I’d be jaded faded
Overrun and flattened
By the bulldozer of the cosmos
Where I was thrown
Like a rolling stone
While my true home engulfs its entirety
And beyond

If I didn’t write you poems
I might forget how much I love you
Until it was too late…

To the poet
Everyone’s a poet

To the politician
Everyone’s political

To the sinner
Everyone’s a sinner

To the saint
Everyone’s a saint

To the liar
Everyones’s a liar

To the lover of the Beloved
Everyone Is the Beloved

She’s been betrayed enough
If you betray her
GOD will notice

On notice means
It’s never too late to avoid
The heartbreak, the slander
The evil
And the devastation
And to finally surrender
To Love

A close relative to the ruination
A close relative to the tragic experiences
A close relative to the only true Victory
A close relative to all those heartbreaking failures
As we take courage
And march onward through everything –
Through the Arithmos
Through the arithmetic
Through the rhythm

Marching to the predestined beat
Of Eternal Love

With greed, corruption
And vindictiveness
Now the disease spread like covid
Through the government and lawmakers
Through the left and right corrupt media
And their corrupt billionaire owned politicians
And illegal lobbyists
Through the adamantly self-righteous
Stringently materialistic fear convicted
Judged invented
Without a leg to stand on
With all the lies being told in the name of Love

It's not that I hope to connect with Baba
For trivial matters
It's that I hope to connect with Baba
In all matters,
The more we sit
The more we see
That inner grace technology
That radiates
Songs heard only by the human heart
The day on which all lovers part
In all things
The day on which we say good-bye
The day on which all lovers cry
The day we relinquish
Claim to it all
The day we rise
The day we fall
The day you first gave life to me
The more we sit
The more we see
Being Zen
Is being Zenless…

But some like it dark
Because the gross plane is a dim flicker
Compared to the brilliant energy
Of the interior realms

Thus clinging to your Dhaman
I now surrender my desire(s)
Up to Your Will

O Baba
Only you know our real birthday
And our real death-day

It’s when we lose ourselves entirely
In the quintessential endlessness
That is your LOVE

All poems are chameleons
Like Karma Chameleons, if you will
They come and go
And look nothing like
The original troll
Leaving tracks
Across the everything
Of the nothingness

How much love may one extoll
It’s comes from way down deep
In the proverbial hole
Where the once sensible foot soldier
Came to believe
In the Name of Love

Wherever we are we earned it
And what we earned won’t be taken away
No matter where we go - there we are
At the edge of an imaginary chasm
Between imaginary life and imaginary death
Bursts the fountain of His Masterpiece
With no beginning and no end

When Captain Karma says jump
Luck says, how high?
If you look hard enough at the numbers
The numbers all align
I have an IN with the Author
A good man is hard to find

You are the source
You are the goal –
The only possible salvation

With a hundred and fifty trillion light years to go
Before I sleep

Although you reside as the Real Everything
Right here
In my own heart

With a hundred and fifty trillion light years to go
Before I sleep…

Progressive thinking winking
Drinking glasses of champagne
Celebrating a woman’s right
To choose the fate of a rice sized
Piece of protoplasm, snowflake DNA
Growing and alive
Akin perhaps to a disease, a cancer
Within her
Feeding off her very life –
Figuratively and actually and futuristically
With or without a soul

I’m a poet, not a politician
I say, give her this right
Whether real or a real disaster
Whether his or hers
Or ours
Or God's right to begin with
Is another question to be answered
Perhaps in another dimension
Thriving in the heart
Further on down the road
Perhaps 22,342 human lifetimes to come
Both male and female

It’s our karma to begin with
Whether right or wrong
Courageous or weak
Black or white
Secular or of GOD
There is no freedom which is free

I am not this body…" Meher Baba

This body is already
The invisible dust
Beneath the roar
Within Manifestation’s eternal call

I’m fascinated by the illogical
Because logic is too often
A dead end road

GOD DOES all that we do
For what other voice is there really ?
Or could ever be
Or even matter?
Who needs a copy right?
The Utmost Beloved owns
The original ©opyright
Of your very soul
Rock and roll
Black and white
With or without  
The need to ®eplicate
You can hear the ocean roar
Energy within the musicality
In  Oneness spheres
The scriptures of a hundred and one light years
From here and now

Hari Krishna, Wahe Guru
Adi Shakti, Jesus Christ
Meher Baba, Blessed Be

The unstruck melody
Within and outside
The very ends of the cosmos
In search of the lost chord
For Whom the bell tolls


Infested with zeros and ones
Where is your antiquity?
Your home run?
Maybe I’ve been a harsh judge
So don’t run to me
Run to the One
Who judges
With Mercy & kindness
Forgiveness & forgetfulness

It’s not for today’s oppressive description
Of freedom
They don’t know any other way
That might gladly silence me
And be silent to me
Sending me to the grave
Pushing up daisies
Feeding on me
Existing for existence sake
From the land of the free
To the home of the brave

As the stringent materialist might add
What’s love got to do with it?
As the caisson’s go rolling along

Lust, a form of love
Is not the highest form of love, of course
Even hatred obeys the laws of attraction;
An extremely polluted form of love

There were many times I perceived
My intensity of lust
To be ultimate love, ignorant as I am
Even now,
But now I look with untrusting eyes
That is – untrusting of myself

Now, to me, 50 years of marriage
Is more an explanation for the Victory
That is ultimate LOVE
Than any intensity of lust;
Something that deceives, comes and goes
And ultimately departs
Longing for a higher power

True love, on the contrary, is a commitment
That endures forever

… and so it goes
On forever
No need to look back both ways
It started with
A formal surrender
And in the sunny cosmic wind
It now forever plays

... and so it goes
This space-less, timeless Oneness
Where once there was an empire
There's now a new born day
After listening to the mantra
Of the Beloved’s silence
The sounds of this material, worldly kingdom

All begin to fade…

You never know
Who you have
At the end of your rope
Heroes and heroines have sprung
From the grime of impoverishment

Give the kid a chance
You just don’t know –
Though seemingly hopeless now
They could be the diamonds
Hiding in the rough
They could be the priceless pearls
Cast into the mire
Before the swine

Like an artificial intellect
Locked into the loop
Into the Zen of despair
Locked into the sub subtle astral plane bardoz
Banned from all meaningful care
With a deadly prognosis
With an unholy ghost
Nipped in the bud
Forbidden to reproduce
Paying the price replicants pay

Meher Baba! Meher Baba!
My last rites of praise
My final proclamation
The being and doing
My beginning and end
So duly appraised
Like a psychopathic executioner
For $35 a grave,
But for our children’s children’s children
That I’m hopefully GOD’s slave

Perhaps we can’t communicate
You think your right
And can’t understand why I don’t
And vice versa
On the same page
But in a different book
Yet Baba knows exactly what we’re saying
The only Judge without bias judgement
And so in supplication
To the Divine Nature in everything

Please translate
This Tower of Babel
In our souls…

As far as religion goes
Instead of choosing my favorite
Or discarding them entirely
I take each one’s light
I take the good things
Each one has to offer
And try to discard the bad,
Like Baba’s beads on a string
All sung from Baba’s heart

And as far as those
Who falsely believe
Religion is the cause of all wars
I now ask you
Did religion cause the Revolutionary War?
The Civil War?
The First World War?
The Second World War?
The Viet Nam War?

Religions don’t cause wars

It’s the lust, anger, greed, pride,
And attachment
Inside the hearts of people
That are unwilling to see, acknowledge
Or admit to,
That does

When someone creates
Any form of art
Though they may spontaneously say
They create just for themselves;
Yet is it ever really only just for themselves?

I may say it is
To let the audience off the hook
Of having to respond favorably
Or unfavorably
Relative to my poems being
Lousy, un-lousy or otherwise
Did the Universe spring into being
By GOD’s hand
Only for itself?

I don’t think a thousand concurrent lousy’s
Would stop me because
If you like it
I wrote it just for you
And if you hate it
I wrote it just for myself…

GOD alone chooses the era, the epoch
Or whatever
The Word
The Being
The Dhaman
The phrase “MEHER BABA”
As a ways and means
In whatever form might be your pleasure
To run to Him
Or Him to us?

Allah and GOD mean
The same thing as Yahweh

Some might take a boat
Some might take a bus
Some might take a starship
Or rock and roll in the dust…

Baba lifted me from the painful hardship
And dropped me into the non-painful hardship

Life on the gross plane
Is both beautiful and ugly
Go ask the Buddha
Life is suffering…

And life is the doorway
To liberation from life
To liberation from death

Go ask Baba –
For Baba is the key
To that door

Note to reader:
To me Baba is like saying GOD
Or Jesus
But in an affectionate manner
Substitution is allowed, further investigation required…

I saw the curtain of the gross world melt away
But I was frightened to see what was behind it
It’s just too much
So I stayed away
I still want to wallow
In the mire I suppose
Given the green light
And so it goes

Avatar, my Beloved Avatar
Marching to the kingdom of Love!

Every day is someone’s romance
You better find somebody to love
With the sun beaming down
Through your anthem, your galaxy
Your crucifix
Your heart overflowing
With an all-time LOVE
With your dreams
Re-awoken by a new reality

On the wings of a snow white dove…

About this poem

Evey morning I meditate and try to listen and this is what I came up with over the last month. Thank you.

Font size:
Collection  PDF     

Written on November 27, 2023

Submitted by jimatay2 on November 27, 2023

10:05 min read

Quick analysis:

Scheme Text too long
Closest metre Iambic trimeter
Characters 10,518
Words 2,011
Stanzas 72
Stanza Lengths 1, 7, 9, 3, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 7, 9, 2, 12, 22, 4, 3, 3, 4, 8, 6, 7, 6, 3, 2, 3, 2, 12, 12, 6, 2, 4, 3, 18, 3, 5, 9, 11, 3, 4, 6, 7, 2, 7, 7, 1, 5, 8, 11, 10, 10, 3, 9, 9, 1, 6, 5, 9, 6, 10, 2, 4, 2, 4, 3, 3, 5, 8, 2, 9, 1

Anthony Giammattei

Anthony Giammattei was born in Albany, New York in 1952. He was a mail carrier and clerk for 8 years for the US Postal Service. He was a graphic designer and a professional electronic pre-press technician and consultant. He started and owned his own computer based pre-press business in Boston for 6 years, 1987-1992. He has a Masters degree in English from the State University of New York at Buffalo (1975) and Albany (1978). He has spent the past half century studying and practicing various spiritual and contemplative traditions in the areas of Meher Baba, Sikhism, Kundalini Yoga as well as Catholicism, specializing in meditation, asceticism and the contemplative/gnostic union. He has written and published 2 other books of poetry including: Psalms Of The Heart (1987), The Dust Of Love (2019), and his latest, Palace OM (2023). He is currently semi-retired and lives outside of Portland, Oregon. more…

All Anthony Giammattei poems | Anthony Giammattei Books

1 fan

Discuss the poem Some Additional Notes On Love with the community...



    Find a translation for this poem in other languages:

    Select another language:

    • - Select -
    • 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
    • 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
    • Español (Spanish)
    • Esperanto (Esperanto)
    • 日本語 (Japanese)
    • Português (Portuguese)
    • Deutsch (German)
    • العربية (Arabic)
    • Français (French)
    • Русский (Russian)
    • ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
    • 한국어 (Korean)
    • עברית (Hebrew)
    • Gaeilge (Irish)
    • Українська (Ukrainian)
    • اردو (Urdu)
    • Magyar (Hungarian)
    • मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
    • Indonesia (Indonesian)
    • Italiano (Italian)
    • தமிழ் (Tamil)
    • Türkçe (Turkish)
    • తెలుగు (Telugu)
    • ภาษาไทย (Thai)
    • Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
    • Čeština (Czech)
    • Polski (Polish)
    • Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
    • Românește (Romanian)
    • Nederlands (Dutch)
    • Ελληνικά (Greek)
    • Latinum (Latin)
    • Svenska (Swedish)
    • Dansk (Danish)
    • Suomi (Finnish)
    • فارسی (Persian)
    • ייִדיש (Yiddish)
    • հայերեն (Armenian)
    • Norsk (Norwegian)
    • English (English)


    Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:


    "Some Additional Notes On Love" STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 17 May 2024. <>.

    Become a member!

    Join our community of poets and poetry lovers to share your work and offer feedback and encouragement to writers all over the world!

    May 2024

    Poetry Contest

    Join our monthly contest for an opportunity to win cash prizes and attain global acclaim for your talent.

    Special Program

    Earn Rewards!

    Unlock exciting rewards such as a free mug and free contest pass by commenting on fellow members' poems today!



    Are you a poetry master?

    A poem consisting of 14 lines, typically with a specific rhyme scheme, is called a _______.
    A epic
    B haiku
    C sonnet
    D limerick