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Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: Battle Poetry

  • Draggin’ (Ignis) | A Playful Battle Poetry Flex by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    There are poems where I sit down with a very serious idea and carefully shape every word.

    This isn’t one of those poems.

    Draggin’ (Ignis) is me letting the pen run loose, throwing references at the page, flexing a little, and then immediately making fun of myself for doing it. It’s playful bravado with a gothic streak, a little battle-rap energy, and absolutely no intention of pretending I’m cooler than I am.

    Twenty-three years of writing will do strange things to a poet.

    Apparently, it makes them compare themselves to dragons, superheroes, and Pokémon-level fire hazards.

    Enjoy the chaos.

    — Rowan Evans

    A playful poet stands with a fountain pen as black ink transforms into a mischievous dragon surrounded by flames, ice, and motion.
    Twenty-three years of writing and this is what the pen decided to do with all that experience.

    Draggin’ (Ignis)
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Twenty-three years, I’ve been doing this
    with craft in my veins and trauma in my brain—
    I’ve really been through some shit.
    Maybe that’s why I write so ruthless—
    if I spit a diss, it’d be ignis—I’d be draggin’ you,
    but I’m nice, so I’m a dragon like Toothless.
    This is stupid, silly, dumb—
    I can’t take me serious, and this is how come.

    Yeah, these might be jokes—
    but I’m cold, Bobby Drake,
    so shut your mouth
    before I turn your girl into a—

    Dragon Rider…

    That kind of killed the rhyme,
    that’s fine—

    here’s a few more lines…

    I’m too quick-witted—

    pen faster than Flash,
    I’m too quick wit’ it
    when I write lines
    to silence critics.

    I’ve been writing for years,
    double digits—
    two followed by the number
    that comes next—
    I’m not even trying to flex,
    this is just me writing facts.

    Journey into the Hexverse

    [Behind These Bars (Idol Chatter)]
    A playful battle-poetry piece where confidence, wordplay, pop-culture references, and a sharp pen collide. Behind These Bars (Idol Chatter) turns verbal sparring into a ridiculous little poetry showdown.

    [Kaio-ken/Zenkai]
    Two Dragon Ball-inspired battle poems about creative power, survival, and coming back stronger. Kaio-ken with a Pen brings the attack, while Zenkai (Stronger Now) delivers the aftermath: push me to the edge, and I’ll return stronger than before.

    [Don’t Push Me]
    A playful battle-poetry piece about turning insults into punchlines, standing your ground, and refusing to be intimidated. Don’t Push Me mixes swagger, humor, rhyme, and Rowan Evans’ signature self-aware interruptions.

    [B.S.T.F.U.]
    A playful battle-poetry exercise packed with insults, internal rhymes, punchlines, wordplay, and literary swagger. B.S.T.F.U. is Rowan Evans flexing the verbal muscles—not calling out anyone in particular.

    If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]

  • Give Me (I’ll Give) | A Playful Confidence Poem by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Some poems ask for your attention.

    This one asks for a challenge.

    Give me something to work with, and I’ll turn it into a line. A joke. A rhyme. A little trouble.

    That’s the game.

    — Rowan Evans

    A fountain pen and open notebook surrounded by surreal images of a microphone, ghost, lyric sheet, and toast.
    Give me something to work with. I’ll give you a poem.

    Give Me (I’ll Give)
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Give me a beat,
    I’ll give you a bar.
    Give me a graveyard,
    I’ll give you a ghost.
    Give me a lyric,
    I’ll give you a joke.
    Give me a drink,
    I’ll give you a toast.

    You don’t have to say it—
    I know, I write better than most.

    Journey into the Hexverse…

    [Nobody² (No Body)]
    A minimalist poem playing with the double meaning of “nobody”—exploring loneliness, isolation, absence, and the feeling of becoming a ghost within your own life.

    [Rose & Ruin]
    Two minimalist poems exploring the opposing forces within creativity: the thoughts we cultivate into something beautiful and the darker thoughts we transform before they have a chance to decay.

    If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]

  • Behind These Bars (Idol Chatter) | A Funny Pop Culture Poetry Diss by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Sometimes I sit down with a pen and decide I’m going to behave.

    That usually lasts about three lines.

    Behind These Bars (Idol Chatter) is one of those pieces where the writing gets a little cocky, the jokes start stacking up, and the references begin sneaking through the cracks. It’s playful, competitive, and intentionally ridiculous in places.

    So consider this a little verbal sparring session.

    No hard feelings.

    Probably.

    — Rowan Evans

    A confident poet holds a fountain pen like a microphone on a surreal stage surrounded by glowing bars made of ink and handwritten lines.
    The meet-and-greet is over. The pen has entered the battle.

    Behind These Bars (Idol Chatter)
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Oh, look at you—
    look what you can do
    with a pen—it’s cute,
    but you can’t win—
    yet you think you can?

    Damn, man—
    what was your plan?
    How were you going
    to get the best of me?

    Get in line—
    get ready for the meet and greet,
    I’ll sign your autograph,
    cause I—

    I know I’m your Idol,
    American,
    shape the ink like clay,
    ’til it’s achin’—
    I’m Stronger now,
    and not Because Of You,
    so listen quick, remember bitch,
    you’ll want to remember where you were at
    during A Moment Like This—

    that was three straight references
    to Clarkson, Kelly—
    sit down, talk show, telly.
    It’s just jokes bitch, I can get silly—
    that’s just how the mind
    Behind These Hazel Eyes works—

    jerks.

    Journey into the Hexverse…

    [Conductor]
    A dark, intimate poem about the strange power words can have over the reader—where rhythm, rhyme, and line breaks become instruments capable of reaching beyond the page.

    [Kaio-ken/Zenkai]
    Two Dragon Ball-inspired battle poems about creative power, survival, and coming back stronger. Kaio-ken with a Pen brings the attack, while Zenkai (Stronger Now) delivers the aftermath: push me to the edge, and I’ll return stronger than before.

    [Don’t Push Me]
    A playful battle-poetry piece about turning insults into punchlines, standing your ground, and refusing to be intimidated. Don’t Push Me mixes swagger, humor, rhyme, and Rowan Evans’ signature self-aware interruptions.

    [B.S.T.F.U.]
    A playful battle-poetry exercise packed with insults, internal rhymes, punchlines, wordplay, and literary swagger. B.S.T.F.U. is Rowan Evans flexing the verbal muscles—not calling out anyone in particular.

    If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]

  • Comic Book Confidence | A Funny Superhero-Inspired Poem by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Comic Book Confidence is me asking a very important question:

    What if I had superhero confidence without actually having superhero powers?

    The answer, apparently, is several increasingly terrible decisions.

    I wanted to play with the mythology of comic-book heroes—the wall-crawling, flying, super-speed, impossible confidence—and translate that into a deliberately ridiculous poetic narrative. Every time the speaker decides they must have discovered a new power, reality immediately provides a correction.

    That’s what makes the piece fun for me. It’s not really about superheroes; it’s about confidence outrunning competence.

    And maybe that’s something worth laughing at in ourselves sometimes. We imagine ourselves as Spider-Man, Superman, The Flash, Batman—and then gravity reminds us that we’re still just people.

    So this is Battle Rowan in a different form:

    No superpowers.
    No safety net.
    Just confidence, bad decisions, and a pen.

    — Rowan Evans

    A confident poet poses like a superhero while comic-inspired energy, flying pages, and signs of failed superhero attempts surround them.
    Turns out confidence is a superpower. Unfortunately, gravity isn’t impressed.

    Comic Book Confidence
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Put glue on my hands,
    and try to climb the walls—
    yeah, tried to Spider-Man it.
    Fell, got hurt, it was a curse—
    goddamnit!

    Okay, so that’s not the power I got
    and honestly, I’m shocked—
    Maybe I can fly? Maybe I’ll try,
    sheet tied and I climbed, high—
    from this vantage point I could see,
    everyone looking like ants to me.

    Took one step then up, up and away.
    I jumped toward the summit—I Superman’d it.
    For a second, thought I made it—
    but really, I just—plummet.
    Yes, there I was hurtling—
    quick as shit toward the Earth,
    oh man, this is gonna hurt,
    just as soon as I hit the dirt.

    Oof, cough, wheeze—
    that was me trying to breathe.
    I had hit chest first,
    knocked the air out of me—
    I struggled to my feet,
    stumbling into a jog—
    like I had somewhere to be,
    and someone to meet—

    but I just had to run it off,
    Barry Allen, vibrating through a wall—
    or nah—
    smashed my head, I’m wobblin’—
    vision blurred, words slurred,
    delusion settin’ in—now I think I’m Batman
    and I’m Robin.

    Journey into the Hexverse…

    [Kaio-ken with a Pen/Zenkai]
    Two Dragon Ball-inspired battle poems about creative power, survival, and coming back stronger. Kaio-ken with a Pen brings the attack, while Zenkai (Stronger Now) delivers the aftermath: push me to the edge, and I’ll return stronger than before.

    [The Inkbender]
    What if poetry was another form of bending? The Inkbender transforms the philosophies of Avatar: The Last Airbender into a celebration of language, creativity, rage, healing, and the power of the written word.

    If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]

  • Kaio-ken with a Pen & Zenkai (Stronger Now) | Dragon Ball-Inspired Battle Poetry

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    I originally wrote these as two separate pieces, but once I stepped back and read them together, I realized they were having the same conversation.

    Kaio-ken with a Pen is the attack: speed, confidence, exaggerated battle-rap energy, and the idea that my mind can move faster than the people trying to keep up with it. The pen becomes the weapon, and Dragon Ball becomes the language I’m using to describe that creative intensity.

    Then came Zenkai (Stronger Now).

    That one felt like the natural aftermath. In Dragon Ball, a Zenkai is the idea of becoming stronger after surviving a near-death experience. That concept fit perfectly with the way I think about resilience: sometimes you get pushed to the edge, you survive the fight, and you come back with something you didn’t have before.

    So together, these poems became something of a two-part battle sequence:

    I attack with the pen.
    I survive the fight.
    I come back stronger.

    Neither piece is meant as a literal threat toward anyone. They’re me having fun with battle-poetry, Dragon Ball references, ridiculous power scaling, and the sheer joy of seeing how far I can push a metaphor before it explodes.

    Basically: Battle Rowan went Super Saiyan.

    — Rowan Evans

    A poet holding a pen stands surrounded by explosive golden and crimson energy, symbolizing creative power, battle, and becoming stronger after adversity.
    One poem is the attack.

    Kaio-ken with a Pen
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I can go Super Saiyan easy,
    the way Chi Chi teached me—
    taught me, I forgot you see
    I’m the best, yes,
    don’t want to step to this—
    you don’t want to fought me—
    fight me, I mean—bitch bite me,
    you’re not like me.

    My mind is terrifyingly quick—
    thoughts comes, instant transmission—
    from my mind to the page
    in a Final Flash attack—
    Kaio-ken with a pen, is this the end?

    Fin.

    Kaio-ken with a pen, I’m at it again,
    this is my battle to win.
    It’s going take you, a Kamehameha
    and Kaio-ken times ten just to test me—
    but it won’t be enough to best me.

    A poet holding a pen stands surrounded by explosive golden and crimson energy, symbolizing creative power, battle, and becoming stronger after adversity.
    The other is what happens when you survive it.

    Zenkai (Stronger Now)
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I’m Goku after a fight
    and a Senzu bean,
    you know what that means—
    I’ve gotten stronger now,
    you pushed me to the edge—
    took me to the brink,
    but you couldn’t end it—
    you couldn’t finish me.

    So do your little dance,
    put on the Potara—do it—
    put your minds together,
    just know, even two as one—
    you won’t get the job done.
    I won’t borrow strength from no one,
    don’t need no spirit bomb
    to drop bombs—

    No Kamehameha—
    just ha-ha, I’m laughin’ at you.

    Journey into the Hexverse…

    [Don’t Push Me]
    A playful battle-poetry piece about turning insults into punchlines, standing your ground, and refusing to be intimidated. Don’t Push Me mixes swagger, humor, rhyme, and Rowan Evans’ signature self-aware interruptions.

    [B.S.T.F.U.]
    A playful battle-poetry exercise packed with insults, internal rhymes, punchlines, wordplay, and literary swagger. B.S.T.F.U. is Rowan Evans flexing the verbal muscles—not calling out anyone in particular.

    If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]

  • Don’t Push Me | A Playful Battle-Poetry Piece About Standing Your Ground

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Don’t Push Me is another exercise in letting my battle-poet voice stretch its legs.

    This isn’t meant as a literal threat or a callout toward any particular person. It’s playful bravado—the kind of exaggerated, cartoonish toughness that happens when I take an ordinary insult, run it through my sense of humor, and see how far I can push the rhyme.

    The opening starts with something I’ve genuinely heard for most of my life: being called “four-eyes.” From there, the poem turns that insult into ammunition. If you’re going to give me material, I’m going to make something out of it.

    And then, naturally, my brain couldn’t resist sabotaging the intimidation.

    I’m not— (shhh, nice kitty)

    Because apparently even Battle Rowan has an editor.
    Sometimes the strongest thing you can do with anger isn’t explode.
    Sometimes it’s turn it into a punchline.

    — Rowan Evans

    A confident poet wearing glasses stands on a dark stage with swirling ink and a mischievous cat silhouette behind them.
    Sometimes you don’t have to throw the first punch—you just have to know what to do with the material they give you.

    Don’t Push Me
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    You called me four-eyes?
    And you want me
    to react to that?
    I’ve had glasses since I was two,
    bifocals since five—
    I’ve had four eyes,
    longer than you’ve been alive.

    What’s next?
    You gonna call me slow?

    (I’m fast as fuck, boi.)

    Physically or mentally?
    Doesn’t matter though,
    there’s something
    you should know.

    I don’t back down,
    I stand my ground—
    because every fight I’m in,
    is like a fight for my life—
    I’m scrawny as fuck, man,
    still use no weapons—
    just fists, no knife.

    So trust me—

    you don’t want the jokes to stop,
    you don’t want to know
    what it’s like, when I really talk—

    so please don’t push me,
    ’cause I’m not— (shhh, nice kitty)

    Journey into the Hexverse…

    [B.S.T.F.U.]
    A playful battle-poetry exercise packed with insults, internal rhymes, punchlines, wordplay, and literary swagger. B.S.T.F.U. is Rowan Evans flexing the verbal muscles—not calling out anyone in particular.

    If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]

  • B.S.T.F.U. | A Battle-Poetry Flex by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    B.S.T.F.U. is me flexing.

    There isn’t a real target hiding behind this poem, no specific person I’m trying to call out, and no secret literary feud happening behind the scenes. I wrote this because sometimes I like to take the battle-poet side of my voice out for a walk and see what it can do.

    This piece is deliberately over-the-top. It’s swagger, insults, wordplay, internal rhyme, punchlines, and a little bit of absurdity thrown into the blender. The goal wasn’t to make a serious accusation—it was to practice the mechanics of verbal combat while having fun with the language.

    And honestly, that’s part of why I love writing: sometimes I want to write something vulnerable, sometimes I want to build mythology, sometimes I want to make conspiracy theories about fish, and sometimes I just want to look at the imaginary competition and say:

    Where are you on the ladder?

    Below me.

    It’s not that serious.

    But the pen game?

    That part is serious.

    — Rowan Evans

    A confident poet stands in a dark battle-poetry arena holding a fountain pen beside a towering ladder symbolizing literary skill.
    No target. No feud. Just a poet flexing the pen and climbing the imaginary ladder.

    B.S.T.F.U.
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Bitch, shut the fuck up—
    what’chu talkin’ about?

    Don’t think I haven’t heard—
    how you’re runnin’ your mouth.

    You thought ’cause I don’t talk a lot,
    I was open season, you should be scared—
    let me give you a reason, I’m a big dog—
    all bite, no bark and a license to write still.

    I write with precision, I write kills—

    you’re not a writer,
    you’re the one who steals—

    plagiarizing those with skill.

    It’s stolen lines
    and stolen rhymes—
    the only thing keeping you
    holding on to borrowed time—

    it’s not yours—

    it’s whoever writes for you.

    It’s me and it’s them—
    it’s the wielders of the pen.
    Those with skill,
    with lines that kill
    and lines that heal—

    we know—

    you don’t write, bitch—
    be so for real.

    You don’t know what a metaphor is—

    and a stanza?
    You hear that and you’re like—
    isn’t his first name Tony?

    Bitch, you’re a phony…

    if you were
    to try and write—
    baloney.

    All that to ask—

    when it comes
    to writing—
    where are you
    on the ladder?

    Below me.

    Journey into the Hexverse…

    [Across the Page-cific]
    A playful, autobiographical journey through the strange places poetry can take me—from sandwich heartbreak and pasta diss poems to gothic monsters, mythology, ravens, ghosts, and storms across the page. Beneath the absurdity is something deeply personal: the realization that writing gave me a way to rebuild myself, piece by piece.

    If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]