Tag: Obi-Wan Kenobi

  • Author’s Note

    I’ve always found it interesting who we relate to in fiction—and apparently, my answer is the villains.

    Not necessarily because I agree with everything they do, but because I recognize pieces of myself in their intensity, their flaws, their ambition, their pettiness, and sometimes even the way they try to make sense of the world.

    So this is me admitting that my fictional character roster might raise a few questions.

    Vader. Maul. Thawne. Light.

    Yeah.

    I know.

    — Rowan Evans


    A dark fictional-villain-inspired scene surrounding a solitary poet holding a glowing pen.
    Maybe the villains aren’t relatable because they’re right—maybe they’re relatable because they’re human.

    Who Do I Relate To in Fiction?
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I relate to the villains—
    Like Vader, who loved so hard
    he became a monster—
    sure he killed Padmé,
    but was that really
    little Ani’s fault?
    Because I blame Obi-Wan—
    you see, if Kenobi
    had not of gone—
    if he hadn’t have been
    on Mustafar,
    Padmé would still be here.

    And I relate with Maul,
    because he had it all—
    the flips, the tricks,
    the sweet lightsaber
    with twice the blade—
    but his overconfidence
    was his downfall.
    That’s why I keep mine in check,
    I’m not ready to split yet.

    I relate to Eobard Thawne.
    That’s the level of petty
    that I aspire to,
    because if I don’t like you—
    and I mean, really don’t like you,
    I make it my job
    to keep you feeling off.
    It’s nothing big,
    just little and inconvenient—
    until it’s not.
    (Sorry, Mrs. Allen.)

    I also relate to Light Yagami—
    because he likes to write,
    and I like to write too.
    We both write names in notebooks,
    try to shape fate with words—
    the difference is, where my ink
    sometimes heals—
    his only hurts.


    Journey into the Hexverse

    [It Could Have Been…]
    A playful little love poem about strawberries, roses, and the wonderfully ridiculous ways romance can show up when you know someone doesn’t like the traditional version.

    [Exhibit A]
    A quick-witted, unapologetically playful poem about writing fast, crossing lines, roasting the competition, and letting rhythm do the talking.

    [Why So Serious?]
    A playful, chaotic poem packed with pop-culture references, superhero imagery, Disney characters, wordplay, and the kind of ridiculous puns that make the poet wonder why they were ever given a pen.

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

  • Author’s Note

    Some poems begin with a carefully constructed metaphor.

    This one began with a step-ladder.

    And then immediately refused to behave.

    Blended Hardware is intentionally ridiculous. I started with a simple object and let my mind wander wherever the language wanted to take it: ladders became hoses, hoses became an excuse for a terrible joke, friendship became Star Wars, Obi-Wan became a teacher, Luke became Leia, and suddenly I was revisiting different versions of myself across my writing history.

    That wandering is the point.

    I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how much more playful my relationship with language has become. I don’t always sit down with a destination in mind anymore. Sometimes I just start writing and see what happens.

    This poem is one of those moments.

    It also became a strange little conversation between different versions of Rowan. The fifteen-year-old writer appears briefly, the Gothic voice tries to take over, and the present-day me immediately interrupts to tell her to calm the hell down.

    That self-interruption is probably one of my favorite parts of the piece.

    I can write something dramatic and immediately recognize that I have made the moment far more Gothic than it needs to be.

    I can make a joke, realize the joke went somewhere questionable, and then literally put myself on trial inside the poem.

    That is part of what makes writing feel like a playground again.

    I don’t have to protect every poem from being silly.

    I don’t have to make every metaphor profound.

    I don’t have to prove that every line deserves to exist.

    Sometimes I can just follow a thought until it becomes a garden hose, an Obi-Wan reference, a fifteen-year-old version of myself, and an increasingly concerned author asking whether she accidentally threatened somebody.

    And honestly?

    That’s enough.

    — Rowan Evans


    A surreal step-ladder surrounded by garden hoses, handwritten pages, ink, feathers, and whimsical literary objects.
    Sometimes you start with a step-ladder and end up somewhere completely different.

    Blended Hardware
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    This is my step-ladder.

    I call it a step-ladder,
    because I had another
    ladder before—

    and yeah, I got plenty hose—
    different shapes and different sizes,
    some are six feet, some are four—
    I’m glad I only have two outside faucets,
    ’cause I wouldn’t have plenty hose,
    if I had one more. (I only have two hoses.)

    You’re not just my homie,
    you’re my Obi-wan Kenobi—
    and I’m Luke, mixed with Leia.
    That means you’re my teacher,
    and my only hope, playa.

    (I’m sorry for that, truly.
    I don’t know what I was thinking.
    I’m going to…
    I’m going to put the pen down now.)

    SIKE! I lied like it’s 1999—
    four more years and the myth would start,
    a poet born with a blackened heart.

    (Dial back,
    that was too gothic for this piece.)

    I mean, sike… I lied like it’s 2005—
    and I’m fifteen with a pen again,
    two years into the journey
    mapping how I’d survive—

    and I mean me, not them—
    I’m talking the person
    they’d grow into.
    The person I’d caution you,
    against taking a pen to—

    that’s a battle you wouldn’t win, boo.

    (Wait…

    was that a threat?

    In a joke poem?

    Too far, Rowan…
    too far.)


    Journey into the Hexverse…

    [Not the Way Jesus Did]
    A provocative poem about religious judgment, hypocrisy, outcasts, and the contradiction between preaching compassion and condemning those who live differently.

    [Noon is Loud]
    If four in the morning belongs to truth, then noon belongs to impossible memories. Noon Is Loud is a playful free verse poem filled with absurd boasts, pop culture references, and tongue-in-cheek mythology that explores how easily imagination can rewrite reality.

    [Content Warning]
    What if you reviewed a person the way you’d review a terrible novel? Content Warning is a playful, satirical poem that uses literary criticism as the ultimate roast, proving that sometimes the sharpest metaphor is also the funniest.

    [Chemical X]
    Chemical X explores the rapid, associative way one creative mind moves—from cartoons to sports, comic books to music—revealing that inspiration isn’t linear, but a collision of memory, humor, rhythm, and intuition.

    [Off Leash Thought]
    A reflective free verse poem exploring the mind as a living, wandering force—unpredictable, creative, and sometimes chaotic—through the metaphor of a dog off leash. It embraces mental drift not as a flaw, but as a natural part of creative thought and self-awareness.

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