Liana Rain: Poetry Is Not Just Text, But Intonation, Pauses, Silence Between Words – Things Paper Alone Can’t Convey

Liana Rain is a Ukrainian poet and the creator of the poetic YouTube channel "Conversations That Never Happened". She is currently working on publishing her debut poetry collection, which includes poems written during the "era of isolation" throughout the Covid-19 pandemic. Liana shared insights about loss, her second book dedicated to her mother, Tetiana Pirus, whom she lost a few years ago, and poetry – where not only the words matter, but also the intonation with which you say them.

Interviewer: How and when did your journey into poetry begin? What were your first steps in this field?

Liana: I wrote my first poem in the 5th grade during a Ukrainian language class taught by Mariya Biletska, while studying at Ukrainian Gymnasium No. 1 (ed. – now the Mykola Sabat Lyceum) in Ivano-Frankivsk.

I still remember the chalkboard covered in writing – fascinating, unconventional, and inspiring phrases that were practically begging to be turned into poetry – alongside whimsical flower patterns drawn with colored chalk. I'm deeply grateful to Mariya Dmytrivna for always encouraging me, helping edit my poems and prose, and gently, almost motherly, guiding me through less successful lines. She was the one who insisted I publish a collection of poems, although back then, during my school and university years, I never dared to.

Since those early days, I’ve called my poems "verse-conversations" – a blend of rhymed poetry and free-verse dialogue, a kind of poetic conversation.

There was another Mariya in my gymnasium life who unknowingly made one of my little dreams come true – seeing my poems in print. For the first time, I saw my work published in the school’s literary almanac "Spring Growth" (Issue 5, 2001). Every year, I eagerly awaited the next edition of that small, colorful booklet with a snowdrop on the cover.

The editor and compiler of the collection, Mariya Hrytsyshyn, would gather students’ work each year and turn it into something magical. I was ready to keep writing endlessly, as getting published in the almanac became a huge motivation for me. Thanks to Mariya Ivanivna, I also attended my very first national literary festival for children – Poetic Tuning Fork – where I won in the category of Imagery (Kuznetsovsk, Ukraine).

Interviewer: Why Liana Rain? Tell us the story behind your pen name.

Liana: People often ask me, “Who is Liana Rain?” or “Why Liana Rain?”

My real name is Roksolana Pirus, but I’ve been writing and publishing poetry under the name Liana Rain for quite some time. In truth, it’s only a half-pen name – my loved ones and those close to me have always called me Liana.

As for Rain – it’s simple. I’ve always loved the rain. Ever since I was a child, I adored walking in it whenever it was warm outside. And when the days grew shorter and cooler, I would sit on the windowsill in my room, hidden behind the curtain, and watch the raindrops slowly trace their way down the glass.

I still love the rain – in all its forms: warm, cool, stormy, or pouring. I love how it touches the skin, how it flows through my hair, brushes against my face, and how it always taps out a different melody on the windows and rooftops. I especially love the “sunshower” – and I always search the sky for a rainbow afterward. I’ve written many poems either about rain or inspired by it.

I remember a classmate once told me that “Rain” reminded him not of weather, but of the Rhine – one of Europe’s largest rivers, which flows through six countries and carries in its name the ancient Celtic word “Renos” – meaning flow. That idea stayed with me. It made me realize Rain can also represent movement, current, change – a symbol of life that flows across borders, languages, space, and time.

To me, Liana Rain isn’t just a pseudonym. It’s a different reality – a space where I can become someone else, reflect, feel, and open up in new ways.

Liana Rain is my catharsis, my safe space, my water element. It’s the creativity that rises from the depths of my soul – oceans of thought, salty seas, wide rivers of life experience shared through words; waterfalls of emotion, mountain streams; cool well water that heals and quenches; cleansing summer rains you long for and dream of on the hottest days.

Liana Rain is me.

Interviewer: Which of your poems holds the most special meaning for you? And why?

Liana: In fact, there are two such poems.

The first one is titled “I Was Never a Saint.”
It’s an open, honest, and emotional confession of a woman going through a journey of self-discovery, self-acceptance, and self-love. There’s no idealization in it – everything is real and sincere. It speaks of experience, mistakes, doubts, disappointments, and exhaustion, but at the same time, of the strength that allows you to keep going, to learn, to grow, to reach your goals, and to truly understand yourself.

This poem is especially important to me because it reflects the reality of so many people today – especially women – who struggle daily with fears and insecurities, yet still don’t give up.

The second poem is called “I’m Not Afraid to Be Alone.”
It’s a kind of manifesto – a reminder not to fear solitude, but to choose authenticity over compromise. It’s a conversation about a woman’s fear of giving herself to someone unworthy, of dissolving in a relationship without honesty, warmth, or reciprocity. It’s about the desire to remain true to oneself, to not betray one’s values, to resist social pressure, and not to settle for less than one deserves.

It’s a voice of inner freedom and dignity – a message of support to those who fear loneliness, reminding them that solitude is not a sentence, but a path toward your truest self and deepest love.
A declaration of the power to be yourself, even when it’s hard

Interviewer: How difficult is it to continue your poetic work during russia’s full-scale war against Ukraine? Where do you find inspiration in such difficult times?

Liana: We live in the reality of war, and every day brings constant stress. The fear for loved ones, the feeling of loss and anxiety – all of this deeply affects one’s inner peace, and creating becomes a real challenge.
Very often, before I publish a poem or a reel on my channel, I’m faced with a sense of doubt – is it appropriate to write “about beauty” or “something personal” when there’s so much death, destruction, grief, and despair around us?

Paradoxically, though, great upheaval often gives birth to great words. Poetry, for me, is medicine for the soul – it has the power to heal. It’s a way to connect with beauty, to open up, to share my truth with the world, and to speak honestly about what matters right now.

My greatest source of inspiration is my family – especially my son.
Honestly, if he hadn’t been born in September 2022, I might still be wondering whether the world really needs my work, still hiding behind imposter syndrome.

But his presence gave me clarity – a reason to keep writing, to keep creating, to keep believing.

Interviewer: Tell us about the poetry collection you would like to publish. Which poems will be included, and what stage are you at now?

Liana: I remember that one of the first books I bought for my son was Daddy’s Book by Volodymyr Vakulenko, a children’s writer who was tortured by russian soldiers and found in one of the mass graves in Izium. I read it to him every night, and it remains one of his favorite books. That’s when I thought about leaving my son a collection of my poetry – my words and reflections.
That’s how I gathered courage: first, I created the YouTube channel Conversations That Never Happened, and later the Liana Rain Poetry channel on social media. Now I’m at the stage of finalizing the poetry collection and searching for a publisher to make my dream come true – to publish a book. It will include poems written during the “era of isolation” – the COVID-19 pandemic and the war in Ukraine.

Interviewer: Every author has something that will forever remain on a shelf. Which of your poems will never see the light of day? Why that one?

Liana: I have a few poems that will never be published. They are dedicated to my mother, who suddenly passed away on February 1, 2019. We were very close, and her death was a tragedy I still haven’t come to terms with.
Those poems are my conversations with her after the world split into “before” and “after.” They hold a lot of pain, the irreparability of loss, and honest words only she could understand.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t get easier with time. When you lose a loved one, you simply get used to living with a huge hole in your heart that can never be mended. I keep those poems like prayers – not for readers, but for myself. They are my conversations with her, our shared silence.

Interviewer: Tell us about your poetic YouTube channel “Conversations That Never Happened.” How did the idea to not only write poems but also read them aloud for people come about?

The idea to create the poetic YouTube channel Conversations That Never Happened didn’t come immediately – it’s rather a natural continuation of my need not just to write, but to speak poems aloud, to give them sound and rhythm. You know, when each line begins to breathe like in meditation: inhale – exhale.
Since school, I often hosted various events, dreamed of becoming a presenter, and often heard that I have a pleasant voice. But back then, it seemed far from poetry.
In my opinion, poetry helps to tell about the hidden in a special form, to pour out your soul on paper or in phone notes, where you are alone with letters, syllables, words – rhymed or not – lines.
Later I realized that poetry is not only text but also intonation, pause, the silence between words – everything that cannot be conveyed only by lines on paper. Especially when the poems are very personal and you try to convey the whole palette of emotions, impressions, and feelings. Then the author’s voice becomes not just a delivery, but part of the poem, its breathing.
The name Conversations That Never Happened is quite symbolic. These are poems-dialogues, poem-talks that never took place, words that were not said in time but still live inside me. And when I voice them, it’s like allowing these conversations to finally happen. For some, they become echoes of their own experiences, and it’s important that my voice becomes a support in the silence.

Interviewer: What projects are you currently working on?

Liana: Right now, I’m finalizing a book for print about my mother – Tetyana Pirus – and her journey as a teacher and librarian, an Honored Worker of Culture of Ukraine.
It’s a book about a woman who gave me life and taught me how to truly live it: to believe in myself, to never give up no matter the circumstances.
This is a book of memories, a book of remembrance.
But the pages are not about sorrow – they are a manifesto of life, of the search for meaning, of self-realization through work, care for others, and family.

It gathers my reflections on my mother and the memories of those who worked with her, who were friends with her, and who chose to share their recollections of the days spent side by side.

Interviewer:What word best describes your poetry? Why that one?

Liana: The word is support.
Poetry is my shadow – it always follows me. It’s the echo of every word I say, the foundation I stand on, my voice that stays with me through all the changes in life: in my heart, on my blog, on my channel, in the real world, and in many other aspects of self-realization.
Poetry isn’t just about eloquence. Poetry is support – and support can take the form of poetry.

Interviewer: What is your mission as a Ukrainian poet? Why this mission?

Liana: I touch the soul with words. I live through emotions with words. I connect with my little son through words. I reach into my own heart – and into the hearts of those who read and listen to me – with words.
Today, I stand at the threshold of change. In every line I write, I want to leave not just beautiful impressions, images, or feelings – I want to leave meaning.
Meanings that reflect the ever-changing nature of being, of thought, of our expectations of ourselves and the world.
Meanings that live in every upcoming hour, not just minute – every next day. And the most important thing in these changes is to hear your inner voice and remember who you are.
The Ukrainian language is incredibly beautiful and melodic. It’s not just a tool, but a space where you can relive, reflect, and express yourself in every word.
It’s deeply important for me to write in Ukrainian, to popularize Ukrainian poetry.
Especially during wartime – to speak aloud about what hurts, to support, to inspire, to heal with words.

Pictures were taken by Solomiia Chuchuk and Sophia Mysko