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when the muse speaks ~ https://kianadonae.com/
Photo by Kyle Glenn on Unsplash

Let’s talk about a few of the tips I personally use to keep me inspired to write. These work a majority of the time but of course, there are times when the “block” hits hard and I’m just not inspired to do anything. During those times I’ve learned to let the muse rest. She will speak when she’s ready.

Tips to help keep you inspired to write poetry:

Read More- In the words of Stephen King -“If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot.” I think…


Photo by Laurenz Kleinheider on Unsplash

smoke and mirrors
objects may be closer than they appear
and only here can they become
exactly what we want them to be
take shapes of what we want to see
so…
don’t lose sight
of where you’re going
while watching where you’ve been

keep the angles tight
and the lights low
watch your image glow
watch it transform
reborn out of the shadows

new and malleable

ready for so much more
strong and unbreakable
your likeness represented
your fear undetected

this is your future self
the other side of what the mirror reflects

~from my second book, Love & Ink Vol.2:Reflections © 2016


Photo by Vincentiu Solomon on Unsplash

At midnight I found your eyes under
the moon. Captivated by the
glow, as you peered into my
weary soul. I let go.
The flesh followed suit.
Crescent beams touched
every bit
of our
skin.

#loveandink

© 2020 Kiana Donae

An answer to the challenge by Tre L. Loadholt

The challenge: I am asking you to “nonet the night” which is to write a nine-line poem following its syllabic form for each line describing the night or something about the night or an object enhanced by the night that intrigues you.


Photo by Guillaume de Germain on Unsplash

Man is absolute
in thought
character or chance
with process made himself.
He destroys himself
of strength and peace.
By choice.
By abuse.
Below the level of the beast
two extremes.
Beautiful truths
brought to light
none is more divine,
but only in his weakness
he then becomes the wise.
Searching truth
into his soul
his life.
Absolute.
He that seeketh findeth
knowledge.
Man’s mind may run wild
but it must
discover that he is master
of his life.

~from my second book, Love & Ink Vol.2:Reflections©2016


Photo by Morgan Harris on Unsplash

as I stand naked in the shower
I’m free

only the water caressing me
washing me clean

from life
from him
from dreams

here I give the water my release
my sins
my thoughts
my peace

diluted tears stream down my face
as the soap carries hurt down the drain

tears of love
of hope
of pain

I scrub away the stains
from all the dirty things
that hurt us

the lies
the deceit
the mistrust

but they go deeper than the surface
this water can’t reach us

we’re drowning in a tub full of regrets
struggling for air in the love that’s left

and right now…

all I want is this shower
to cleanse me
to give me release

to set me free.

~from my second book, Love & Ink Vol.2:Reflections©2016


Photo by Nic Amaya on Unsplash

I pledged my allegiance
Honored and true,
To fight for our flag
Of red white and blue,
But somewhere I was lead astray
This organization was rotten and decayed

I was ravished and plundered
Defiled and put asunder

Drunk with power
His authority superseded,
My rights
…my civil liberties,
He dominated and took privy
Violated my inner being

His covert actions
Left me battered, bruised, and vacant

Reporting my assault and shame
I quickly learned
Rank outweighed rape,
Red tape covered my case,
And when I made noise
They silenced my claims

Returned me as a civilian
Shattered, broken, and…


Photo by Gabriel Matula on Unsplash

encoded in your fingertips
a message meant for me,
traced along my lips
the insides of my hips,
my skin is the Braille you read
we spoke only in tongues
our bodies controlled the speed,
licked lavish limericks
and encircled love, linguistically
muffled moans spoke fervently,
we vocalized in a secret code
only our souls could decipher,
eagerly arching to brace him,
unspoken prose liberated our language

we articulated the conversation of sex.

~from my first book, Love & Ink©2015


Photo by Sasha Freemind on Unsplash

She thought this was right
that it was expected of her
to be an object

~

For men’s desires
nakedness is her attire
while clothed in her shame

~

Strips her troubled past
undressing at the back door
it’s not for the cash

~

High on attention
her skin covered in dollars
intoxicating

~

Returning nightly
for her habitual fix
she unveils her pain

~

Trading it for stacks
because it chases away
demons from her past

~

But morning shines light
her haunting ghosts will return
to torture her soul

~

She longs for nightfall
the protection of their eyes
blinded by the lights

~

She hides from the abuse
covers up her wounds and cries
all for men’s desires.

~from my first book, Love & Ink ©2015


Photo by Kinga Cichewicz on Unsplash

Just as I lay to sleep
I’m hit
invading me
with an impulse unparalleled.
Jolting.
Invigorating.
My being is anxious
as I search through darkness
for tools to release,
this compelling
evolving
force. Seducing my soul
with words and metaphors.
Advancing hastily.
Incoherently
maneuvering the realms
of my mind.
My psyche exhilarated
I write double time
to captured the flood
spilling from inside
begging to drown me.
Threatening to swallow me
whole
fervently I silence them
calming this fury.
I cover them in ink.
Cementing them to this page.
–forever.

~from my first book, Love & Ink©2015


Photo by Kiwihug on Unsplash

my heart sits, emaciated
in the center of my chest
shriveled and shrunken
beating its last breath

extreme lack of love
the cause of duress
deprive it any longer
and my heart will perish

leaving it in this weakened state
every morsel you suppress
works only to intensify
the effects of your neglect

my heart is left to die
malnourished and ravenous
you can no longer provide
a love that completely satisfies

this hunger for your love
will never suffice

~from my first book, Love & Ink ©2015

Kiana Donae

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