Author’s Note
Some poems arrive in the middle of the night carrying emotional truths.
This one showed up in broad daylight carrying absolute nonsense.
The idea started with a simple contrast: if four in the morning is where my most honest poems seem to live, then maybe noon is where my imagination completely loses supervision.
So I let it.
Every claim in this poem becomes more ridiculous than the last. Ghostwriting the Ten Commandments. Inventing fire. Starting sci-fi fandom wars. Building the pyramids. Handling first contact with aliens.
It’s satire, exaggeration, and the kind of storytelling that knows it’s lying while inviting you to enjoy the ride anyway.
At its heart, though, there’s a small observation hiding beneath all the absurdity.
Sometimes the stories we tell ourselves depend entirely on what time it is.
At four in the morning, we confess.
At noon, we become legends.
This poem belongs to the latter.
— Rowan Evans
Noon Is Loud
Poetry by Rowan Evans
If four AM is the time of truth—
I guess it’s all lies at noon.
Do you remember when—
I was topping the charts
and breaking the hearts.
And what about the time
that I had to save the planet—
I had to be the one to stare
down the barrel of a laser gun.
But I handled first contact like a G,
that’s why the Aliens are cool with me.
I created Star Treks and Star Wars,
specifically to start beef in sci fi fandoms.
Nobody knew, I was the phantom menace—
the creator of the lore, everyone wanted to Klingon.
And Dune? That was me too.
I’ve gone to war with Gods
over migraines and frowns,
but never my own—
I’ve talked about it in other poems.
And yes, I am a sports expert—
I know everything there is to know,
it’s all stats, no narrative.
Formations, players and defensive schemes.
These are all words that I know what they mean.
The pyramids? I built those—
the Eiffel Tower too.
The Hubble Telescope?
Inspired by the childhood glasses that I wore.
The Ten Commandments?
I was the ghost writer—
I was also the inventor of fire,
the wheel and combustion engines.
Anyway—
that’s what I remember.
But noon is loud,
and the lies come easy—
so I’ll stop here
before I rewrite the universe again.
Journey into the Hexverse…
[More Afraid Than the Ink]
Some confessions are easy to write but impossible to speak. More Afraid Than the Ink explores fear, dreams, recurring symbols, and the quiet realization that the page has always been braver than the poet.
[When the Veil Is Thin]
Some truths wait until after four in the morning to make themselves known. When the Veil Is Thin explores insomnia, longing, quiet vulnerability, and the thoughts that become impossible to ignore before dawn.
If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]
Poetry by Rowan Evans 