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Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: Perception

  • Human Rorschach | A Poem About Perception, Perspective & Identity

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    I’ve always been fascinated by the idea that people rarely see the same person the same way. We don’t meet others as blank slates—we meet them carrying our own history, fears, hopes, and assumptions.

    The Rorschach inkblot became the perfect metaphor for that. The inkblot itself isn’t trying to be anything; the meaning comes from the person looking at it.

    Maybe people work the same way.

    Every interaction is filtered through perspective, and perspective is shaped by perception, memory, and experience. Sometimes what another person believes about us reveals far more about their own journey than it does about who we actually are.

    This poem is an invitation to think about that relationship between identity and interpretation—and to remember that no one is ever seen exactly as they are.

    — Rowan Evans

    An abstract black inkblot resembling a human figure, open to multiple interpretations, on textured paper.
    What we see often reveals more about ourselves than the person we’re looking at.

    Human Rorschach
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I’m an inkblot
    in human form,
    a real Rorschach—

    am I couple kissing,
    or a mushroom cloud?

    Love or destruction—

    what do you see
    when you look at me?

    Know there are
    no wrong answers—

    because what you believe
    is fed by what you see
    and what you see is perspective,
    but perspective is shaped by perception—

    I am open to interpretation
    and it changes,
    with everything
    you’ve lived through—

    the things you’ve survived.

    What you see
    when you look at me,
    says more about your life—

    than it does mine.

    Journey into the Hexverse…

    [A Rose in the Ashes]
    Lost within a forest where every leaf becomes a memory, the speaker follows darkness instead of fleeing from it, discovering that healing isn’t found at the end of the tunnel—but in facing the past long enough to notice a single rose blooming through the ashes.

    [Leave No Self Behind]
    What if finding yourself isn’t about discovering someone new, but learning to walk beside every version you’ve ever been? “Leave No Self Behind” is a meditation on memory, healing, and embracing the selves we once abandoned.

    [Every Night, The Same Flight]
    Every night begins with the same flight. Between wakefulness and sleep, an airport appears, a familiar shoreline waits beyond the journey, and the same dream asks whether some destinations find us before we’re ready to find them.

    [Through My View]
    No two people experience the world the same way. Through My View is a reflective free verse poem exploring perspective, imagination, and the impossibility of fully seeing through another person’s eyes.

    [Just Human]
    Just Human is a reflective free verse poem about seeing people before borders, choosing empathy over division, and finding home in our shared humanity rather than on a map.

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

  • Through My View by Rowan Evans | A Free Verse Poem About Perspective, Imagination & Individual Experience

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Perspective is one of the strangest things we possess.

    Two people can stand in the same place, witness the same moment, and walk away carrying completely different worlds inside them.

    I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about that—not as something that separates us, but as something that makes us interesting.

    This poem isn’t saying one perspective is better than another. It isn’t about claiming superiority.

    It’s about accepting that no one else can inhabit your mind.

    No one else sees exactly what you see, makes the same connections, or experiences the same emotional landscape. We can describe our inner worlds through art, conversation, and metaphor, but there will always be a distance between experiencing something and hearing someone describe it.

    As a poet, I spend much of my life trying to bridge that distance.

    This poem acknowledges that the bridge will never be perfect—and that’s okay.

    Our perspectives don’t need to become identical to be meaningful.

    Sometimes it’s enough to simply recognize that every person is looking through a different window.

    — Rowan Evans

    A surreal sunrise over towering mountains, a vast ocean, and a fading moon, symbolizing a unique personal perspective on the world.
    No one else can stand exactly where you stand or see the world through your eyes.

    Through My View
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    It’s eight,
    I hear the birds chirp.
    It’s late, I’m awake—
    what’s new?

    Silence.
    It’s violence—
    the words that I choose,
    when I’m cut loose.

    Like my thoughts,
    I’m off leash—
    you can’t stop me.

    I’ve got a mind
    that stacks lines,
    mountains high,
    metaphors rise—

    higher than Fuji,
    higher than Everest.

    You’ll never finish this climb,
    your mountains will never match mine.
    You could do this for the rest of your life—

    but you’ll never cross my ocean,
    you’ll never see my moon
    with your own eyes.
    You’ll never feel the pull of my tide—

    because your mind
    doesn’t work like mine.
    You’ll never see the beauty
    in my horizon line—

    the way the colors
    shift and shine
    with the change of time.

    You’ll never see the world like—
    I do,
    you’ll never see the world through—
    my view.

    Journey into the Hexverse…

    [Just Human]
    Just Human is a reflective free verse poem about seeing people before borders, choosing empathy over division, and finding home in our shared humanity rather than on a map.

    [Monster Theology]
    What if the monsters under the bed weren’t monsters at all? Monster Theology explores difference, belonging, and the human tendency to fear what we don’t understand through a conversation with the creatures we’ve spent our lives imagining.

    [Before We Created The Labels]
    Ancient gods return to a fractured world shaped by borders, identities, and separation. “Before We Created the Labels” explores humanity’s divisions through mythic imagery, sacred ritual, and symbolic collapse—asking what remains when we learn to see one another beyond labels.

    [No You and I, Ony Us]
    A hopeful free verse poem about empathy, borders, and imagining a world where humanity matters more than division.

    [Two Americans]
    What does it mean to share a country, a language, and still feel completely different? Two Americans explores identity, culture, and the quiet disconnect between people who should feel the same—but don’t.

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

  • Schrödinger’s Person | A Poem About Presence, Perception, and Existing Between States

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    This poem began with a phrase.

    “Schrödinger’s Person.”

    The moment it entered my mind, I laughed.

    Then I realized it wasn’t really a joke.

    I’ve always been fascinated by the spaces between things.

    Between sleeping and waking.

    Between leaving and arriving.

    Between being understood and merely being seen.

    The famous thought experiment gave me a metaphor, but the poem isn’t really about quantum mechanics.

    It’s about perception.

    There are moments when I feel as though I exist in two places at once.

    One version of me is moving through the ordinary world.

    The other exists inside the minds of the people who know me, read my work, remember me, or think about me.

    Neither version is false.

    They’re simply different ways of existing.

    I think writers become especially aware of this.

    Our words continue living in places we’ll never visit, meeting people we’ll never meet.

    A poem can be read years after it’s written.

    A thought can continue existing long after the thinker has moved on.

    That creates a strange feeling.

    Part of you is always somewhere else.

    The final lines carry the emotional truth of the piece.

    Not that I cease to exist when no one is looking.

    Only that being perceived is one of the ways we feel most alive.

    Maybe that’s true for all of us.

    Maybe every human being exists in more than one state at once.

    The self we know.

    And the self that lives in someone else’s memory.

    — Rowan Evans

    A solitary figure appears between two overlapping realities, symbolizing existing in multiple states at once.
    Sometimes existence feels less like certainty and more like possibility.

    Schrödinger’s Person
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I’m drifting somewhere
    in the in-between—
    space is liminal here.
    This is where people go
    to disappear—
    you must exist
    with the fear.

    It’s like I’m here
    but I’m not—
    I’m somewhere else too.
    It’s like I exist—
    in two states
    at the same time.

    I am Schrödinger’s Person.

    You see—
    that sounds more dramatic
    than it is,
    I just mean—
    when you perceive me
    is when I live.

    Not that I don’t
    without you—
    because I do,
    but I really don’t want to.

    You see—
    the two states
    I exist in,
    here…

    and there.

    Journey into the Hexverse…

    [Returning to My Bones]
    Some dreams fade the moment we wake. Others leave behind emotions that linger long after reality returns. Returning to My Bones explores the strange grief of leaving a dream that felt real enough to matter.

    [Before My Feet Touch the Floor]
    What happens when your dreams feel more real than your waking life? Before My Feet Touch the Floor explores the strange grief of waking up, the lingering memory of dream selves, and the quiet question of which version of us is truly real.

    [Just Beyond Waking]
    A street that feels familiar. A life that hasn’t happened yet. Just Beyond Waking explores the fragile space between dreams, memory, longing, and the quiet feeling that some futures are already waiting for us.

    [The Needle Doesn’t Point North]
    “The Needle Doesn’t Point North” is a deeply personal free verse poem about displacement, identity, and spending a lifetime feeling emotionally disconnected from the place you were born while being drawn toward distant shores.

    [The Streets I Walk When I Sleep]
    “The Streets I Walk When I Sleep” is a deeply intimate free verse poem about recurring dreams, emotional connection, longing across distance, and the strange feeling of remembering places and moments that have never happened in waking life.

    [Separate Timelines]
    “Separate Timelines” is a surreal and deeply introspective free verse poem about emotional distance, time zones, vulnerability, and the fear of losing a connection that already feels meaningful before the words are ever spoken aloud.

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