Happy World Poetry Day!




Speak to me the outspoken so that I won’t have to make silent speeches of fear for your unspoken feelings. For fears and feelings are kin, merging in bits of spoken realities pertaining to outstretched candid fantasies unspokenly voiced beyond our boundaries.
You above me.

All you and I know so far is the unknown, but isn’t it beautiful to know what we don’t know and to value it as if we’ve known it ever since we wanted to know? I crave to unknow the know of what I still want to know….so that it remains ours alone.
You beside me.

For we are one plus one hoping to become one, but our oneness is defined by the blurring rules of the important none, allowed to be broken bar the one that makes us one. Tell me, how can I portray one dream in a plus-one choices reality, when one is all we need.
You within me.

soaring-words.com, 2017. Picture credits: private source.
#soar, #soaringwords, #poetry, #worldpoetryday2017, #hope, #love, #oneness.




you see it one day on a playground
shine in the happy curls of a little girl
who puts smiles in your heart with gestures of
laughter and sheer innocence
transmogrifying your daily choirs into hopes
as you stop to memorize that light
like an invisible good fairy to bless your future mishaps;
you let her play and walk away
hoping for that miracle to be yours one day.

her feline walk and talk is like Egyptian goddesses
not easy to decipher by the unappreciative
nor by the superficial daunted by transparency
shes joyful and romantic in the same card
singing, dancing, wearing sexy with charm
as though its always her prime time
and your smile is the law she abides by
in her playful ways not to win your heart
but to give hers away along with the cake she baked for you last night.

fighting with you like a lioness
for better days and unrelenting justice
with no bargain as to assuring rightfulness
casting away pain with bravery
putting herself back together after the broken and defeated
while still keeping the best part for her king
made out of the strongest and most fragile pearls
engendering miracles to praise your seed and legacy
and wearing the weight of life like a queen.

sometimes the warrior you need is her acumen
as shes the first to compromise and make out of failures
grounds for your new accomplishments
holding the balance of your yin and yang
pouring sympathy, care and strength into your veins
especially on those nights when your hopes are gone
and you remember that sunray seen once on a playground
sculpted in her with all the light shes given you so far
and you cant help, but smile.

Man, if you see her in all her shapes,
dont walk away in fear, doubt or disarray
dont put her down and dont deny her worth
hold on to that wonder on your course

for Feminine is but
a child with hopes bigger than its size
a girl with audacity and tenderness
a woman of a cosmic love and fragility
a mother of ambition and diligence
a grand-mother of wisdom and patience
a soul of harmony and lenience

by your side, always!

Feminine by Soar, soaring-words.com, 2017. Picture credits: private source.

#soar, #soaringwords, #poetry, #womensday, #feminine, #love, #hope.

The Undone


Its done, the undone
with a rebound of life
where an unconditional soul
clung between the doings of
sometimes and hope
for no other reason than
the biggest love of all

stared at in silence
judged with no temperance
balmed on the wounds from others
used to enhance confidence
admired at the whims of chance
and stored
in a black box of porcelain

while she got dressed in the scars he had
upon his path
where present turned too easily into past
and future wasnt too much to expect
yet it guided her faith
towards the unknown fate
paid each time with coins of confidence

and there at the layer of patience
melted into the thick fog of recurrence
the undone was impertinently waiting
calling for the nothingness
to rewind the doings of causes and effects,
to obliviate their remembrances
and annihilate all happenings

yet the doings had a secret essence
which rose awareness every night to find
their mate care and to produce delays on the circuits of haste
calling off pride for the aftermath
and adding up uniqueness on the strings of facts
so that the undone could never initiate
and the doings could mend all that was needed

for the magic to perpetuate.

(2016, Soar, soaring-words.com, Picture credits: private source.)
#poetry, #storytelling, #soar, #soaringwords, #undone, #doings, #truth, #love, #life.

To make a poem right



To make a poem right
all you need is DISTRACTION and WATER
to flow and entangle your thoughts
into drops of feelings
pouring out as if they never existed before
at full speed and intensity
reaching to some sort of confusional awareness
in the bewilderment of the moment
while water runs loose and keeps the noise constant
dragging you along while you try
to stop
something you want to go on
to take over the pre-set logic of the mind
running for the dress code of the metaphors
raw and virgin in your palms
it flows
before you have a chance to put down
or at least to remember
through key words and broken lines
that uniqueness to define
with unabashed FOCUS and STILLNESS of time
a poemmade out right.

(Picture credits: Jeremy Mann, soaring-words.com)

‪#‎soar‬, ‪#‎soaringwords‬, ‪#‎poetry‬, ‪#‎storytelling‬, ‪#‎inspiration‬, ‪#‎art‬, ‪#‎jeremymann‬.

Change unchanged



Something changed
on that display
where a grin popped up
on the other side
at the touch screen producing memories
and she gazed in
lost in the Pierian meaning
of a sacred sin.

Something could have changed
though she couldnt tell
the why, the what or how
for she thought love was about remaining
the same
while different in the game
and that, heart by heart
or pixel by pixel,
love would come around.

Had anything been changed
in her versatile ways to indulge
the prescience of deeper senses
and to revere the little things
of all that there was and would have been,
then those grins over time
would have been home to both
if only for the care of their origin.

She looked at the display anew
sunk into the colours of the frolic and the playful
while hiding the dark background of the sacrifice
her main atout
as she chose the third option out of two
only to see it through
and be able to see on that pixelated screen
sentiments, floating between her and him.

Nothing changed
at any time one face reflected the counterpart
with the same mimic of the satisfied
while that mirror called display
furtively immortalized
a zoomed out quiddity
of the unchanged that changed
so that they remain the same.

(July 2016, Soar, soaring-words.com. Picture courtesy: LePrive)
#poetry, #storytelling, #soar, #soaringwords, #truth, #love, #life, #care.

A book for a puzzle


A book for a puzzle

Win one of my books (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QL3iJOoiZ1A) if you solve this puzzle. Send your answers to info@soaring-words.com.

I am very excited for your replies:-) Here it goes:

“We were five. All of us as one, trying to coexist in the best of times. In the worst scenarios it was hard.

One of them was tiring me out. Always. I could resist him for 30 minutes tops. Yet I needed him like a key to the hole of a whole I aspired to in my existence. But I didnt want to just exist. I wanted to live!
Then there was this woman; she looked old, like centuries. No way I could escape her, for she got under my skin…deeply. So I observed her, strict and unrelenting, or else she would break, the essence of my existence.
The other guy, part of my clique, was just too careless and carefree. My very first love and my last one too. With him all the f words sounded just right; deep…in meaning and easy going at the same time. Whichever I would think fit. No blush needed despite my blushy tendency.

Oh, forgive my French, but the next in line betrayed me. She played for a long time the damsel in distress and yes she had me, but all she ever was, was just a pompous face with swaying attitude. Big disappointment, minute loss. Apparently a needed part of the experience to quench my thirst…or search for the ultimate grail of my purpose. What a waste….just common sense my careless guy would say.

And finally, last not by choice but by alignment…of thoughts. Another she. Very similar to me, but I still varied here and there and in the middle. Thank god! For she talked a lot and she could also get loud. Many a time I rode along, but sometimes I just parted. Because she was too much. Yet, when I needed her, my god….fire along! No one could replace her, even if they tried to emulate and even dye their hair just to be like her. I dont know if shes ever been faithful…but I am grateful.
We still are five. In the worst scenarios and the best of times.”

(c) Soar, 2016.




with every smile and frown gazing at my soul,
I try to find new pieces
in my struggle to redefine
the cosy mirror of my eyes
set for so long to show
if only to find when lost
my unconditional truth

but your shards scattered in the composure
become mosaics of playful reflection
as though they were unfaithful replicas
of a carpe diem motto
which dissipate
before the rise of a new tomorrow
and I cant see myself through

changing perspectives and laughing
at my courage of loyal essence,
praising you boldly,
as I fall for your hopes and wear your flaws
so that you dont have to suffer from
imperfection and they wont ever have to know
what I fight and purge in

in order to preserve the best cut
from broken moulds and foggy sceneries
you were left with in reality
before the sun of my visions
that you met
on a platter of trust
while courting destiny with faith

as chance brought me there
along with my care
avowed to you
beyond the limits of compare
and I called you wonderful
while you, glazing my fascination,
showed me from within

so eagerly hidden
that it would smell only to the genuine
and ever since, every time you look at me,
I make sparkles from shards
and cracks become beams
with carpe vita indulgence
so that you remain complete
in the iris of my beliefs – perfect to me,


#poetry, #soar, #soaringwords, #mirror, #mirrors, #justintimberlake, #me, #you, #them, #loyalty, #soul, #care, #diamond, #bestfriendship, #reflection, #flaws, #forgiveness, #love.

Picture Credits: Love-for-Life, By Ryan Woodward.
2015 Soar, www.soaring-words.com

Red Moon


They said it was unique to see the moon bleeding with love on a black sky of expected yellow.
They mentioned it can reach our feelings beyond its limits and make them complete.
They even predicted it would grant wishes if you desire them intensely.

I didnt know what to recall, wish or believe as I saw from afar the tiny disc fighting for its glow.
But I know I was already in awe with what uniqueness meant to me, there on earth,
beside him. And I thanked destiny.


(Photo credits: private source)
‪#‎redmoon‬, ‪#‎poeticalthought‬, ‪#‎wishes‬, ‪#‎destiny‬, ‪#‎care‬, ‪#‎appreciation‬, ‪#‎soar‬, ‪#‎soaringwords‬.

Empire State of Love – a Poem in Motion


This is the work of a year, comprising my most devoted message of love and hope. Thank you to everyone who helped me shape it in sound and motion.

Listen, feel, enjoy and cherish: Empire State of Love

Merry Christmas and serene holidays!


(“Empire State of Love” is the first animated poem from the “Poetry in Motion” project initiated by Soar in 2014 and it was initially published in “Yours, poetically”, 2014. (c) www.soaring-words.com)

Like Rain



Outside the rain pours down with memories
within, where all the tears dried out;
his kiss shelters the best corner of her feelings,
where she keeps the flow of its imprint,
the essence running through her veins,
becoming one with the pulses of her breathing;
yet she remembers he was different
when her eyes first gazed at him
and he was playing the card of their chance to win
something they never defined
for silence spoke to them recurrently?
she, enthusiasm of heart,
he, the soother of the nights,
together, even when afar,
to prove in care what is closest to a smile,
losing track of moments
when they forgot to measure the size
of the room where habits and newness mixed up
and love took over the corner of confidence;
there she awaits him,
keeping his faith in her hand
like an unused perfume
she doesn?t want it to evaporate
but rather herald with it the theme of spring
in the landscape of their significance,
where hope is dancing on the ceiling
and art has put its sisters to work,
decorating the walls
with little things ? his favourites
and her deep gestures of beauty.
Her eyes frame the rain again
which shivers on the pane of purity,
abundantly bleeding with past before her senses,
which she won?t let infiltrate
within the tenderness she keeps for him,
close to the embers and a tea
she prepared late in the night,
for his return
so that it makes a dawn out of her life,
or simply win over the drops outside,
like a magician of her happiness
who draws a rainbow on the same spot,
where the rain had cried and longed each time
for him to come back.

(? Yours, poetically, Soar, Epubli Berlin, 2014)

Note Story


This is the story of a note from a boy to a girl, written a very long time ago, when love was courted with smiles, when experience was platonically attired and when sharings were limited to blushing, quotes and songs. The unsure handwriting confessed:

I would lie to you if I told you that my body loves you, but I dont lie to you when I tell you I love you in a special way that only those like me can understand. I hope you do too.

No one knows the ending of this story, but it was remembered that the girl did not understand the boys secret affection, almost slapped him in the moment when the kiss was meant to flourish (she had a thing about slapping boys in such particular moments) and that the boy was too mature about his immaturity, or too proud for loves modesty.

So she didn’t meet him when he came out of the military. Yet, years after, when she heard on the line of a phone I should have never let you go, she understood the meaning of that note.

And when they both realized the chance was passing them by, they decided to never say good bye. Maybe thats why no one knows how the story ends…because it doesn’t have one.

It will go on, if only to let us know that if love doesn’t give us anything at all, at least it stays, just to regenerate from dusk to dawn. Always.

A story about redemption and hope.

(Note story, Soar, 2014. www.soaring-words.com. Picture source: private.)




When our thoughts touch
we raise fire every time and universes stop, afraid not to burn out
then we give reason ground and indulge waters to settle down
until storms give in, once more, in the mix
with passion inside,
that always survives,
and next time around will conjure from the same unquenched source
the flicker of warmth, the sparkle of hope
the flame which bonds
anew our thoughts bespoke
from unbanned dreams to the flavor of wishes
like diaphanous magnets, depolarizing earths
with too much energy pouring from you into me
while skies and soils bow
before the justice
of the eyes and hearts refound
longing to intertwine,
bursting with laughter and tears –
boldly conspiring with destiny
to win against biases and fears
and reunite what was always meant
to be one.

And there, between volcanoes and floods,
amid fantasies and truth
from the prelude of us
I save embers and dew
and wait for you
to be mine.

(Soar, 2014, ? www.soaring-words.com)




Sometimes I write to gently waft the air at the side
to come close-by
and whisper ?hi?
while your thoughts already enliven my mind
rising swirls of feelings
leaving my words at the brink
of poetry
intermingled with the prose
of reality
thickened by the fog
in your world
silencing your mouth and ears
before the speech of freedom
and the air of hope
you would hold
like a breath of love
should your pulse approach
to vie for my warmth
when I fall asleep
and you arouse on my lips
fantasies –
riveting thrills
that I take in bits of memories
from the heart
you relinquish to my sighs
like a wild horse prancing for spring
while I breathlessly run with scents
over void fields
to save our faith
and bring peace against the erratic scenery
that never counted with the dreams
we conceive our instants with
and grow them one by one
until they become

Sometimes I write a poem about you
just to say ?thank you?
sometimes I write
because I love you.

(Soar, 2014, ? www.soaring-words.com)



I run through the woods to find part of my soul
Left with you a long time ago
You’re still at the brink of my wandering, waiting,
In your hand with my serenity
And my completeness on your lips
I fell in desire with;
I struggle through winds and leaves
Feeling for your clearance, my peace,
Further away, where I aim
Through earthy callings for my name
Duping my heart in games.
You smile and let lessons of life confront my light
Ready to hold me should I ever fall down
I cross diaphanous forms to see the prelude of suns –
Your eyes
Contouring what the world can?t define
Something that my poetry has pledged to glorify
Against blades hurting its drive
For it’s long and tiresome
To be one without you around
To move forth when everyone turns back
And to smile every time I cry
In the fight of the truth against disregards
But at the end of flows and frowns
Fate whispers to my life
That wars love noble outcomes
That pieces of soul need to reunite
Storms the quiet nights
And you to be mine.

(Soar, 2014, ? www.soaring-words.com)

Sonnet-like poem


I never liked rules and constraints in my poetry…I let it run free as it wants towards the corners of eyes and hearts it feels to indulge. This is my very first (and last) sonnet, where rhymes, theme, plot, shape and rhythm need to have a precise order and rule…


To redefine you in other lyrical forms
Cast in grey rituals of grand ancient plays
It?s like taking the gist of an outspoken soul
To lay bare the same footprints of your way
I know the paints by heart, yet drawing is too difficult
With you holding the blues of wavering hues,
Misting the dawn from its purport
While I use trust, patience and chocolate as muse
The scenery flows with six-dimensional feelings
Same care, rippling meanings of tomorrows
You watch confused the practice of my preaching
For it?s your well of ?free? and ?happy? that I colour
So that each morning of hope or stumbling night
You can redefine the truth of you and I.

(Soar, 2014, ? www.soaring-words.com)