←

Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: protest poetry

  • Government Time-Out – A Sharp Satirical Poem on Power and Accountability | Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    Governments Behaving Badly: A Satirical Poetry Series [pt. 2]

    Author’s Note

    If Raising Governments is the exhale—laughter edged with frustration—then Government Time-Out is what comes after.

    The moment humor fades, and what’s left is clarity.

    This piece strips the satire down to something quieter, more direct. It’s still framed through the language of discipline, but the tone shifts from playful to firm—less about calling out behavior, and more about demanding accountability.

    There’s a difference between reacting and reflecting. Between explaining something away and actually sitting with it.

    Government Time-Out lives in that space.

    No noise.
    No spin.
    Just the uncomfortable weight of consequence.

    Because sometimes the most powerful thing you can do…
    is stop talking—and finally listen.

    — Rowan Evans

    Symbolic illustration of political figures portrayed as misbehaving children in a chaotic environment, representing satire and accountability.
    No more excuses. Sit with it.

    Government Time-Out
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Sit down.
    No—actually, sit.

    We’re not doing this today.
    Not the yelling,
    not the threats,
    not the “I know better” attitude.

    You’ve had centuries
    to prove that.

    And yet—
    here we are.

    Hands in the cookie jar,
    crumbs on your face,
    still trying to say
    it wasn’t you.

    Really?

    You think we don’t see it?

    All the broken plates,
    the slammed doors,
    the mess you keep calling
    “necessary.”

    No.

    You don’t get to break things
    and call it order.

    You don’t get to hurt people
    and call it policy.

    So here’s what’s gonna happen.

    You’re going to sit there—
    quietly—
    and think about
    what you’ve done.

    No speeches.
    No spin.
    No rewriting the story
    to make yourself the hero.

    Just sit with it.

    Feel it.

    For once.

    And when you’re ready
    to act right—
    we’ll talk.

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

  • Raising Governments – A Satirical Poem About Political Immaturity | Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    Governments Behaving Badly: A Satirical Poetry Series [pt. 1]

    Author’s Note

    Sometimes the only way to process the state of the world is to laugh at it.

    Raising Governments takes the chaos, contradictions, and immaturity often seen in global leadership and reframes it through something familiar: parenting. Not out of cruelty – but out of exhaustion. The kind that comes from watching the same mistakes repeat, over and over again.

    This piece leans into satire, using humor to highlight a deeper frustration – how systems meant to lead can sometimes feel reactive, impulsive, and disconnected from the people they affect.

    At its core, this isn’t just about governments.
    It’s about accountability.

    And the strange reality of feeling like the adults in the room… aren’t.

    — Rowan Evans

    Symbolic illustration of political figures portrayed as misbehaving children in a chaotic environment, representing satire and accountability.
    Sometimes the people in power act like children—and someone has to call it out.

    Raising Governments
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Why are governments
    actin’ like bad kids,
    needing their ass whipped?
    Go and get the switch—
    you pick. We’re going back
    to the 90s and before.
    No corners for you, no more.

    I’m not mad, I’m just—
    disappointed.
    I’ll turn this car around.
    Don’t think I won’t,
    I can see you in the rear view.
    This is gonna hurt me,
    more than it does you.

    As soon as we get home,
    everyone to your rooms.
    I need a minute to breathe—
    collect myself.
    And your attitudes…
    they don’t help.

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

  • Calculating Profits (Ledger of Lives) – A Powerful Anti-War Poem by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    War is often framed through numbers – casualty counts, budgets, troop movements, strategic gains. But behind every statistic is a life, a family, a story that rarely gets told. Calculating Profits (Ledger of Lives) is a response to that reduction of humanity into arithmetic.

    This poem confronts the uncomfortable truth that while war is frequently portrayed as a contest of nations, the consequences are carried by ordinary people. Civilians lose homes, children lose futures, and entire communities are reshaped by decisions made far from the battlefield.

    The poem’s title references the cold language of accounting–ledgers, calculations, profits–to highlight how easily human suffering can be reframed as strategy or necessity. I wrote this piece to challenge the normalization of war as spectacle and to remind readers that the cost is never abstract. Every loss echoes through generations.

    Sometimes poetry must be gentle.
    Other times, it must speak plainly.

    This poem chooses the latter.

    — Rowan Evans

    Conceptual illustration of a battlefield fading into an accounting ledger, symbolizing the human cost of war being reduced to numbers.
    When lives become numbers, the ledger of war never truly balances.

    Calculating Profits (Ledger of Lives)
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I’m so sick of this, it’s ridiculous,
    the way we glorify war like a sports game—fictitious.
    Us vs Them, who’s gonna win?
    While kids in rubble pray their lives begin.

    Flags wave, bombs blaze, headlines spin,
    nobody wins, but governments grin.
    Life lost, life changed, families torn apart,
    yet they call it “strategy,” cold as a heart.

    Soldiers march, leaders sit in their chairs,
    calculating profits while ignoring prayers.
    Civilians flee, the streets taste of ash,
    diplomacy dies in the bureaucratic clash.

    Every life a number in a ledger they hide,
    every tear a story the textbooks won’t write.
    We cheer heroes in videos, oblivious, blind,
    never realizing the price war leaves behind.

    Us vs Them—what a childish game,
    but it’s blood they gamble with, never their name.
    I spit this truth, raw, without disguise,
    because war is a lie, and I see through…

    the why—
    lies.

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

  • WOKE Part 2: Bearing Witness to Injustice – Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    This installment dives into systemic inequities, confronting racial and social injustice head-on. It examines the anger and frustration that fuel action, and the costs of speaking truth to power.

    “Silhouetted protestors in empty streets at dusk, with headlines floating symbolically above, representing systemic injustice.”
    Rowan Evans bears witness to history and systemic inequities in WOKE Part 2, channeling the fury and pain of the silenced.

    WOKE (Part 2)
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    They say a lynching was a suicide,
    I guess being black took his life.
    The headline reads fiction,
    But history whispers cruelty in the wind.

    I stay WOKE, because sleep is luxury
    Reserved for those blind to rot.
    Hands build monuments to lies,
    While bodies disappear, uncounted, unnamed.

    “Calm down, it’s over,” they tell me,
    As if oppression is a bedtime story,
    As if my fury is a tantrum
    From someone who dares to notice.

    I rage for mothers, fathers, children
    Erased in official reports,
    For those who fell while the world looked away,
    And those trembling, forced to pray.

    I write in neon ink, in fiery scars,
    For the voiceless who scream in the dark,
    For every injustice whitewashed,
    Every truth buried beneath silence and sand.

    I stay WOKE, because breathing here
    Means noticing horrors, refusing witness,
    Carrying the weight loud, unbroken, alive.

    They may call me terrorist, troublemaker,
    But I call myself awake,
    And I will not blink while the world sleeps.
    Not while power smiles over the dead,
    Not while history repeats its cruel refrain.

    The fire grows hotter. WOKE Part 3 Finale: Carrying the Fire of Truth → confronts the unyielding struggle for justice and the voices the world tries to silence.

    ← Return to WOKE Part 1: Staying Awake in a World of Injustice