Introduction

Hello, my name is Tiffany Haty. I am a proud cat mom, struggling student, and published author. Last spring my creative non-fiction piece titled, "The Tall Night of The Nyekundu Woman and The Depth of Words Spoken," was published in Aaduna, an online literary magazine.

I am an African-American woman with a mixed race background who has a difficult life path plagued with severe emotional problems which I battle to this day. While preparing for community college to become a paralegal, I took classes at Seattle Goodwill’s Job Training & Education Center. After a few failed attempts at various educational institutions due to emotional problems, I found success at Seattle Goodwill. In my Writing for School and Work class I wrote an essay that my instructor suggested I submit for publication. The second publisher I sent my writing to, Aaduna, published my essay. I was also recognized with a certificate of special achievement from my second writing instructor at Seattle Goodwill.

I believe writing chose me, and my blog is my mirror.

Please feel free to comment.Thank you.

The Tall Night of the Nyekundu Woman and Depth of Words Spoken

 

Daughter of the flowing earth, she was the embodiment of grace in a deep golden brown female form, and wore the spiritual nobility of her land as one of royal stature would wear gold. Around her beautifully shaped head and around her average sized bust and small waist she wore a bright yellow and brown African print fabric wrapped tightly around her head and body, which draped down in the fashion of a sarong, to her bare feet. She stood tall and slender in her village, near a large grass hut amid the vast continent of ancient Africa thousands of years ago when the land was young.

In her face one could see the balanced symmetry in the round oval face of this ancient woman. One could see her facial profile with her deep onyx, almond shaped eyes with sleepy lids. This woman of the earth held her head up high as she spoke, depending on who she was conversing with. The face of the woman contained much refined ancient and ancestral African beauty with her dark knowing eyes, heavy lidded, and her smooth flat appearing elegant long nose whose nostrils flared somewhat but not overly so. Her lips were full and generous in a pleasing manner and provided the illusion of an even balance to her face. She appeared almost regal with her deep golden brown skin and it was smooth with no blemishes. Young and full of feminine balanced energy, it radiated from her aura. She was a natural beauty of the earth, with her dark skin contrasted against the bright golden yellow mixed with brown African print material that was wrapped tightly around her head in a small head wrap. She wore it in the traditional style of African women. She was a vision of graceful young womanhood of the day. Her smooth expansive physical beauty was likened to a rare mysterious dark orchid in bloom.

Her body was skinny and long – graceful this female African body she inhabited. She stood with her head held high in defiance, sure of who she was as a woman. The light of the midday sun shone down upon her smooth deeply brown slender body. Wrapped in yellows and browns covered in the woven African print that was drawn tightly around her slender body with the sarong part of her ensemble draped down to her bare feet. On her head the length of this fabric was pulled tightly around the crown of her head in an exquisite manner.  The night came, and she stood in the heart of the village by a grass hut tall, proud, and bold. She stood there in the living vision of this mysterious African night of the Nyekundu red moon.

Her eyes were brown, the color of the depth of the richest sepia, russet and were oval in shape, not as wide open, the heavy lids almost hiding the darkened iris. Her almost slanted African deep fire eyes were the eyes of a strong protector who defended spiritual truth using her full lips as a weapon to punish her foe as he arrogantly disrespected her, and the ways of her tribe as he sought to impose his ungraceful movements and use of his warrior spear. Her eyes knowing that although inelegant and staccato, his movements were still in front of the world instead of the ways of the graceful African Nyekundu moon village. Her eyes ebony tinged with amber fire knew the pain of betrayal watching her lover carry on with another woman and this wide open hurt was reflected in her deep pools of sepia eyes that were on fire. She finally caught them and her world fell apart.

In spite of her pain the light shone in her eyes with no tears from the old love she knew who left her for another, and then the new man that came into her life just at the right moment to give her comfort and to ease the pain of rejection of the first love. He put his strong arms around her as her dark sienna eyes were wide open in surprise as she watched the relationship with her first lover die.

In the ancient embodiment of the graceful Nyekundu red fire woman, one could see the beauty of her symmetry, with her deep, fiery, soulful eyes seeing truth. Wrapped in the tribal patterns of her ancient village, she wore her sense of oneness with her people and it reflected outwardly in the beauty of her mannerisms and dress of the woman of the dark continent of ancient Africa. Her defiant facial expressions maintained grace towards the man that disrespected her person as well as her tribe with its natural spiritual beauty, even though his dance lives on. The fires that burned in her eyes knowing and seeing the man she loved all those years leave her for another woman in the deep embers of dark sienna orbs are made wide open with painful realizations of the past relationship, making way for this new endearing love to enter her life, thousands of years ago when the land was young.

 

This non- fiction piece was initially was published in Aaduna Literary Magazine Spring of 2016.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The gray sea flows down
Widow moon scarlet in red
Queen of Barbados

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Black mermaids are green
Windchimes are whispering Troy
Rich auburn wild coils

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my eyes are secrets
taking photos of my mind
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Salome's mansion
Outre song of blue Jordan
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The Swirling Tutu

The Swirling Tutu The New Girl was taking a bath World Politics was steeped in an exotic night jasmine scent Siamese twins are dancing on the ruins of the dilapidated world stage I am Black Lyra Then there was the New Boy In the late afternoon, he held an open bible set aflame Now Claudius is dead Religion walked out on me wearing a suit and tie and I still believe in an empty Jesus in confusion The dystopian moon is in its crescent phase A homeless drunk is singing pissing on a crumpled aluminum can A Black man suddenly yells, "Your mama's a trick!" at his television set My madness is symphonic and crawling I was lost amongst rows of sphinxes He will not find his black mistress The sun shines upon the face of Egypt The air is thick with smoke at the Temple of Thoth They murdered the left side of my brain locking me up in a monkey cage Liars of Iron Age and geometric planes disintegrate thought A quiet girl with a widow's peak flirts with cinema The 24th century ballerina was mixed with a Black and Romanian quatrain danced on a grave in a swirling tutu is grown Sunlight poured into the mausoleum and lit up her pale brown skin during the summer months Her high ponytail was raven-colored and bounced as she moved in the dream of the fallen Queen of Luxembourg By Tiffany Haty