Something but Nothing

Each of us, a part of that larger something
That speeding beam of light
Streaking through the universe
That churning river, no beginning or end
That idea, completely incomplete
Seeking form, expression, repetition
Even before it is aware of itself

Each of us, a part of that other something
Something beyond us, you, me, anything
Always something other than what we think
Illusive as the beauty we sense
But cannot touch with our hand or words
Like chasing smoke from a distant fire
Or a butterfly through the heart’s garden

Each of us, something
But nothing by ourselves
Contingent, perhaps co-dependent
On each moment flowing through us
But even in the moment
No permanence, foundation, or reason
We just are

This entry was posted in Don Iannone, Metaphysical Poetry, Spiritual Poetry and tagged , by Don Iannone. Bookmark the permalink.

About Don Iannone

Don Iannone is a poet, writer, teacher and photographer who lives in the Greater Cleveland area. He has worked in the economic development field for over 35 years. Don is the author of three poetry books and five photography books. He is working on a short book of photographs and poems about human trafficking. This work was exhibited at six venues in Ohio. Don holds an M.A. degree in Art and Consciousness Studies from the University of Philosophical Research in Los Angeles, where he teaches writing. His educational background also includes studies in Anthropology, Photography, Organizational Behavior, and Economic Development. Don’s website: Wisdom Work Press:

11 thoughts on “Something but Nothing

  1. Codependent on the surface, deeper yet interdependent as part of that larger something, and ultimately we are that larger something.
    I think….

  2. Something is nothing
    Is a road of wanting to be at
    Corner of somewhere yet we find our selves
    On a large universe
    So tiny in our existence

    Its good to be slowly getting back to your home
    Thank you for notes of concern

  3. Nasra thanks so much. Good to have you back. This poem revives the age old debate about the nature of human existence. One extreme says we are and that’s all we really know for sure; that is our sense of being. And that is the best we can hope for. The other extreme says we are here for a purpose; some divine reason explains why we are here.

  4. these are questions that have always intrigued me… and yet, i have no idea about what is what in the grand scheme of things.. but sometimes poems like yours touch something i can’t quite describe but for a moment all feels right

  5. Thanks Entropy — It is that.

    Thanks Dan.

    Polona: Thanks. We all pause around these questions. Can we ever know? I wonder…

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