Pages From John

Author: John Knetemann

  • The End of the World

    It was the end of the world
    The end of all I knew
    The end of all I thought I knew

    Palaces of perception crashed around me
    The fabrications and fallacies broke and burned
    The reality in which I walked was swallowed up
    Everything was abandoned and the fire climbed up my vision

    It was death, death, death!

    And then I saw it
    The worst terror and the greatest beauty
    And a new kingdom came
    One which was always there but couldn’t be seen
    Not seen but only experienced

    And there are many, many thrones
    All are kings and queens within this realm

    A kingdom we abandoned and returned to
    We grew and then ungrew
    We learned and then unlearned
    We dethroned ourselves and then took it again
    We separated and then rejoined

    It was the end of the world
    Or was it a new beginning?
    Was my great failure really my great victory?

    It was the end of the world

  • A Strange Journey

    It’s hard not to love everything in life,

    Even if I have been stabbed with a knife.

    To love the night is to love the sunshine,

    Understanding means to have seen the sign.

    That you are the only character here,

    That all your hate came from a place of fear.

    What a strange journey it is to the grave,

    For much time believing that we must behave.

    But we do not die when we leave this place,

    We have always been here with another face.

    If you know you know, but no need to rush,

    Sooner or later, the goodness will gush.

  • To Be a Poem in a Reality of Poetry

    To know the outer you must know the inner.

    To act on nature using your own nature.

    To risk the mistake and act like a fool.

    To see that there is more than meets the eye.

    To unpeel the layers of the lessons.

    To unlock doors and hint at the keys.

    To kill the ruler and watch him revive anew.

    To feel your way through the waters of life.

    To hear a voice without the use of ears.

    To write a story without intending it.

    To be a poem in a reality of poetry.

  • Changing the Director

    Has the director been a terrible hire?

    Projecting scenes of horror around?

    How did this script come to be?

    Where did these scenes come from?

    How do we change this film?

    Can the cast change their costumes?

    Are the lines speaking to you?

    Are you in a tragic comedy or a comedic tragedy?

    Will you flip it to a different genre?

    Who is the person running this production?

    Where did you learn this role?

    Can you find the source among the set?

    Can it be done?