Poems by Kimberlynne Darby Newton

Hello, I’m Kim. I write poetry, erotica and prose. Here are a few selections from Anthem, my upcoming book of Protest, Poetry and Passion, my upcoming book of erotic. Hope you enjoy.


I speak to
Original Woman.
Stripped of skin
down to an
African beating heart.
I remember you.
Huddled around ancient fires.
Strong feet, toes splayed
to better grip your Mother.
Flames licking strong boned cheeks,
lips curved, body sleek or fattened
by your stoic.
Yes, you
No interest in your presence
I am speaking to your

I speak to
Original Woman,
link only by your inner
Second made only
to do as Goddess made.
Protect. Shield. Give succor.
Yield because your grip
on your Erzulie, your Oshun,
your Morrigu, your dread morn
need not be
too easily.
Original Woman
I speak to your bones,
your mourning keens,
you light, which shines
to mortal meat of you.
Do they tremble?
At my call to

Then why not
answer, original one?
We are being called,
as She so promised
we would.
This world calls
We must answer
to absolve us
of what Mother made us
She whispers,
us to movement
Protect. Shield. Give succour.

KDN, 2017



I wield the whip
that controls your desires.
I am the lance
which jousts
your fires
I am the torch
which burns
in the night
I am the knife
which cuts
soothes, devours
I am the cudgel
the hammer
that flies
I am the twink
that blinds
your brown eyes
I am the thrust
you trust to hit
that sweet spot
you think hidden
within that broad chest
I am the weapon
wielded deftly
but kind
I am the whip
that captures
your mind
I am the lash
striking so deep
that I kill fear
and allow you
to sleep,
my love.

KDN, 2017


Blue eyes, watching you sleep
to barney

I know they’re a throwback too
a time when some one hurt you
thru an ancestor’s blues
a stripe that still shows itself
blue, running thru
soft brown eyes.

I know it still stings
lingers, my skin, your eyes
neither of us know
true black
pulled so far away from that
sillly world got us colorstruct
luckness and wandering
when we only have to
look back and see that black
became rainbows

The trend still amazes me
we seek balance
darkness attracts light
light, darkness.
you can’t see the glory
in your Mama’s skin
even though the breast
which nurtured you
the thighs that made loving laps
for you
the deep deep brown
she gave to you
and to me

Good thing
that I love you
enough for both of us
glad I came in butter pecan brown
if it was siren to you
so glad
that your folks made
in a shade so wonderful
skin so deep and smooth and soft
matched by that gentle there
Good thing that God decided
to make us over
into images made somewhat opposite
somehow filling a hole
that I
didn’t even know
was empty
Did you feel that, too?

Sudden stillness in the air
around you
I know you couldn’t feel it
I didn’t know I was doing it, baby
wrapping silken threads
around you, to protect, yes
but to also remind
that the cocoon
and the sheathed butterfly
were both mine

So we sit
and watch age
come for us.
We wonder at its
many manifestations
my calves, your thighs
My back, your swagger,
your adorable chubby
my smug thin
my feet, your knees.
Love manages to find
balms, and soothes.
You told me to come
BACK to you
from that hospital bed.
You told death
to stay away
from your baby.
We quieted and silently
smiled, and gave you
what you wanted……..
for now.

who find the time for grudges
when love lingers?
who spends money, what matters price?
when just a little piece of our souls
nearly always suffices
I remember what first love,
frustrated love, aging love,
not loving quite enough
but none of them compare
to what we share
when I stare
into those curiously blue
brown eyes?

KDN, 2017




I still…..bounce
I still jiggle
It’s a hard the thing
to lose
even the muscle memory
of it.
My laugh still rolls, flows, glows
My cheeks are still stuck
in rote and and persistent
giggle mode.
My eyes still alight
my husband swears there’s sparkle there.
He has to say that, but well……
it’s still true.
My love is shockingly wide
mountainous, good naturedly
still a reaching tide
with a little death undertow.
I declare myself
Overflowing with lubricant
moist as Mama’s brownies
sweeter than grandmama’s sour cream
pound cake!
Why, I
may be even JUICER
than I was
with all this love goin and comin
Maybe I’m wetwork
sloshy and obstinate.
I must be still
cause jelly STILL
don’t shake like that…..
do it?
I thought not.

KDN, 2017



Thighs lazily wide
We come for you.,
my core and I.
Unfurling scent and color,
begging taste.

Vine strong
we weave and undulate
blowing seeds
of love and lust to blind
beguile and steal sense.

Dark and wild
wet and slick
we wait for you
thickening root wide
root long.
Come to us.

Scent strong
we waft
tantalizing to tease
that which we long for
which can never be

KDN, 2017



See You

Half hearted platitudes,
half hiding the hate
you still bear.
I see the crows fly
over the bodies
we will unconsciously
I see the women crying.
Creation is our job
not deconstruction.
I weep
reap rage
at how close we may come
and still fall.
Forgotten girls
worlds away, but
you look away.
Drugs dragging
our children behind
but just a pile
of formerly nreathing
color matters, somehow.
I rage
silent hands
beating on covered mirrors
they have come too far,
we have waited too long
to hand them the worlds
we promised
for which they must
needs lay
their young limbs down
altars of could have beens
praised by the faithless
obnoxious gods
of our own hubris
Would that I could unsee
unfit Cassandra
If you’re not
If you’re not ready
IF you’re still
hoarding fear
Worlds of happy
lie in the bargain
Faithfully given away
decades ago
to chubby hands
made lean
still empty

I see you.

KDN, 2017

Kind Men

I seem
to have
feathered my nest
with an higher than average
of kind

Strong enough to be soft
Sometimes I forget
to tell you
just how
precious you

Kind, understanding
which wrench
sadness from our shoulders.
of our strengths
But seeing
our tired

A smile
sweet words
abrupt dismissal
of depression
sudden surprise
at unconscious gifts
it carries
more weight
than you

Kind men
you mean
so much to us
women see
that too
we need so
many more of you.
it was worth

worth repeating.

KDN, 2017


Cassandra’s Kisses

We who have touched
by goddeses of yesterday
whim bid us fight
for right to be heard
Are, I fear, dying.

We dreamed the stage
the age set upon us to wage
war for good people
to stand.
It will be delayed, it seems still

A battle and dream, deferred
We are too in love with war
peace must wait
once more.
For a chance of standing.

we can wage wage on children’s voices
keep home buried in the ashes of
fertile land.

They, see, and must heed
a call to peace
Much louder, wilder
than our whispers of dark dreams.
They sing, of tomorrows.

So, we, bleating Cassandras
Can hope for no more
than a kiss
for courage, good heart, trust, and a demand
to shield their own tomorrows.

As for us,
may we take our present disgrace
with maiden’s innocence, mamniscient,
matron’s groan, crones insistence.

We needs must and feebly cry, whilst we
lest it halter our tomorrows.

Wreck the epoch,
drown the siege, smudge the sorrows. Rise as one.

While we watch, continue Cassandras work

And believe.

KDN, 2017

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Kimberlynne Darby Newton
Kimberlynne Darby Newton is a World History professor at Alabama State University. She has published books and are all available at Amazon.
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