←

Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: Geek Poetry

  • 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]

  • The Inkbender | A Nerdy Poetry Tribute to Avatar: The Last Airbender

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    This poem began with one simple idea:

    What if bending wasn’t limited to the elements?

    I’ve always loved Avatar: The Last Airbender, not just because of the worldbuilding, but because every bending style reflects a philosophy. Earth is patience. Fire is will. Water is adaptability. Air is freedom.

    As I kept writing, I realized the poem wasn’t really about the characters.

    It was about poetry.

    What if writing could be its own form of bending?

    A poet bends language.

    A storyteller bends memory.

    A confessional writer bends pain into meaning.

    So the references gradually became metaphors for different ways I approach writing: anger becoming fire, healing becoming water, stubborn persistence becoming earth, and the rhythm of language becoming its own kind of element.

    The “nerd note” stays because that’s genuinely how my brain works. I noticed the line wasn’t technically accurate, paused to explain why I changed it, then immediately jumped back into the poem. I could have removed it—but it made me laugh, and sometimes leaving the fingerprints on a poem makes it feel more alive.

    This piece also continues a theme I’ve been exploring lately: treating writing as something almost supernatural. Sometimes I’m a witness. Sometimes I’m a monster in the margins.

    This time…

    I’m an Inkbender.

    — Rowan Evans

    A fantasy-inspired illustration of a poet surrounded by magical ink transforming into earth, fire, water, and air.
    Some people bend the elements. I bend the page.

    The Inkbender
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Tick-Tock—
    I listen to the sound of the clock.
    Eyes open to the world, I watch—
    like I carry time on my wrist.
    I slipped, keys in the lock—
    I dipped—
    ballroom dancing with a twist.
    A list of names—I check twice,
    like my name is Clause—
    kickin’ it with Rudolph.

    Shhh—
    I move earth
    like I’m from Ba Sing Se.
    Now, you must be
    from the southern temples,
    because when you speak—
    all I feel is hot air.

    You’re an airbender,
    if you weren’t aware.

    (Quick nerd note—
    it’s the Southern Air Temple,
    but I had to make it simple—
    so it could hold the rhythm
    and carry the cadence.
    With that explanation
    we can return to
    our regularly scheduled chaos.)

    I bend bars, the way Toph taught me—
    feet planted and never backing down.
    I’m never losing ground—
    I feel out the imperfections,
    bend them to my will.
    I am the originator, that is my skill.

    It starts with a spark,
    a sun with a heart—
    I’m the fire inside, the fire in the sky.
    Call me Fire Lord Ozai
    ’cause I bend
    fire with a pen.
    Leaving destruction across the page
    as I translate my rage—
    the very thing
    that could have become
    my cage.

    Then my motion smooths,
    ink becomes more precise.
    Pen moves like the tide,
    watch me flow and glide—
    my ink like water heals,
    and my mind knows
    how trauma feels.

    If you thought the nomads
    were just gonna get
    a simple diss…

    D’Aang—
    Aang,

    your people mastered letting go,
    I mastered holding on—
    you chase balance,
    I chase bars.

    You run from problems,
    I run through them—
    glider in the sky,
    I’m the storm beneath it.

    Go Avatar State if you want—
    I bend elements with ink,
    you bend them with angst.

    You know, I shouldn’t
    roast the monks too hard.
    Because Ozai did it first
    and I won’t copy that,
    but you walked into this—
    glider first,
    logic last.

    Looking to the future,
    stuck in the past.

    Journey into the Hexverse…

    [The Life of a Witness Poet]
    What does it mean to love someone when the greatest act of care is simply witnessing their life? This poem explores quiet devotion, distance, and the compassionate heart of a witness poet.

    [The Monster in the Margins]
    Drawing inspiration from horror icons like Michael Myers, Ghostface, Freddy Krueger, and Pennywise, this poem explores the darker side of creativity—where inspiration becomes an unstoppable force lurking just beyond the edge of the page.

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