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

by Tiffany Haty

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

By Tiffany Haty

my eyes are secrets
taking photos of my mind
fields of lavender

By Tiffany Haty

Salome's mansion
Outre song of blue Jordan
House of Butterflies

By Tiffany Haty

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

Soldier in a play
I am a foreign princess
Stop fighting me Todd

By Tiffany Haty

"Poor Blacks: I Said My Name was Talitha"

 

                                                                                 

                         

Don't forget about the poor Blacks 

For I am a Poor Black

Jealousy swallowed our country home and ate through her jailed heart 

I was broken into prisms

Liquid eyes follow me

The fog is lifting. 

Don't forget about the poor Blacks 

For I am a poor Black Sister 

To the sold out Blacks

To the high yellow Blacks 

To the Blacks that are passing

To the dark-skinned Blacks

For the Blacks who are crazy, Bartholomew 

To the educated Blacks 

For the inequality of Blacks 

Don't forget you are Black

Fish play backgammon on Tuesdays 

While Queens die to take a milk bath

Murderer!

Don't forget about the poor Blacks 

For I am a.poor Black 

The sun expressed itself in fated charades, as it danced with a pauper through clouds

Wolves were gray and were still Wolves 

Eyes blurred color lines from intoxication peaking

A sticky blue lollipop broke off in her mouth and her name was Chelsea

Don't forget about the poor Blacks 

For I am a poor Black who was put out of mind

I attended a funeral when I was 49

I now  lament in a requiem

Eyes are bloodshot at 3am in a rainshower and I was left to chance in an interracial family fighting off teenage pregnancy on Lakeview Avenue South 

Come to the Lord

I loved every one of you that died 

Don't forget the poor Blacks for I am a poor Black 

Poor on 3rd

Poor.on Seneca 

Kneel before the Lord

Pray

By Tiffany Haty 

April 17th, 2024

Orbit to Miranda

"Orbit to Miranda"

Twist the patterns
I have sipped tea over many moons
I see eyes
Lands beckon from a crocodile god
My Black American Grandfather was a serviceman for the bleak contingency
I'm learning the Swahili tongue while I forward emails to Mombasa
Orbit to Miranda's nunnery in Brazil lands on Uranus' star
I am 19 confessing my sins to a soldier fighting a war
I'm off work at 5:00
I was a poor Black woman of nobility in a tailored suit who was pauperized by goats riding the city bus when I worked at a desk up in the blue sky of downtown Seattle in the Pacific Northwest 

My hair was a black espresso color and it was processed, and it blew dramatically in the soft wind while I lit my cigarette in the rain my damn self nothing but 22 
He wanted to rape while those goats ascend a mountain 
Loose sound bites play back of Lottie's full lips she was sequined in black was sworn in by a dragon
A streaker is running loose in the park
The sun dances across the sky as I recite the beatitude of a poor lunatic
I was exiled to Oberon
Heaven is ancient Mrs. Brooks
Dream

By Tiffany Haty

 winds run through the west 

Your crown of pearls lost in fog 

gray seaside villages

By Tiffany Haty

8-15-20

Never a Wife

 “NEVER A WIFE”

I've seen thy own grave mirrored 

A maidservant blows a kiss in the direction of the northwest dock 

The 16th century toys I lost were trapped inside of a 1988 Sophocles film starring Lana Jordan also known as superior Black womanhood
My soul dons a silvery fabric that drapes over my shoulder and on my head the Gods placed a metal  circlet upon my locks that are ashen brown and wild

I stand foremost in the temples of the shocking Muse whose skin was a sun-kissed brown color 

I was born of Grecian demi-gods mingling with veiled clouds in Ghana
I am heavy with murdered doubt
Where is my husband?

Through Hera’s blessing a child of Hermes is born
We should have met before

A lightning bolt from Zeus darts toward a maligned Liberal Arts College  
On this inner-city night that bleeds in red
Oh useless woman, stop your crying for he is dead!
Stop your tears.

In the dark, a wall to wall WWII dream machine invents itself in 1971 in the politics of the constellation of the balance

It sits far off on a foggy embankment in Prague speaks in lost languages printed on a piquant microchip

India

In 1979 a middle aged ambassador dreamt of a foreign queen inside of a poisonous lotus flower

Sitar music fades

The woman of the swirling veils and brown skin rides near the sands of the shoreline of an exotic palace bathed in sunlight, the air was sultry and hot,thick with the scent of resin wafting through ancient religious temples, as she was carried away by men wearing fine draping tunics in a shrouded palanquin 

She dreamt of Raja 9,000 times

Lying about your other crimson women who drank from defiled cups masked as intellegencia while pregnant

While my song is playing alongside demons I fear in Rome among the Sumerians and in Babylon
I am out of my grave and my lips are veiled
Jasmine petals fall while stringed instruments cry
Her eyes are watching
Why are your two faces shrouded in blackness?

I have no wealth of gold and you slapped me to the ground of a barren land
My frizzy long coils blow across the pale blue sky that broods
Now I’m mounted upon my gray horse during humidity of summer as the sun is setting in the skies of Crete 

I waited for him by the water and he abandoned me
I tremble in solitude, I know my worth
Never a wife

By Tiffany Haty

 Ashen shoreline drifts

Midnight sleeps behind ghettos

Homelessness on lakes

By Tiffany Haty

Violet Mars

 " Violet Mars"

The night was odd, something was amiss 

What was that pantomime strangeness of night?

Ancient China has rung 

I was an unusual lady of books and I swam upstream

I entered through a white door that was make-believe, but I didn't feel at home there

I could not afford this wild lived in place 

The room had no furniture except for a beat up mattress on floor six

On the wall above the second hand mattress was a neon sign that read ,"Follow Your Dreams" that was lit up in large scale Violet lettering on the wall in a low lit apartment downtown  

I could hear the tight throbbing dance rhythms fade out

I felt so alone in my amber brown skin

It was half past 8:00 and I was surrounded by the crackheads mayhem on 1st and the local drunkards hiding behind velvet rope 

I waited in vain for my mockery of an interracial date

He drove a Black 1991 economy car and I a cloying dilettante 

My ethnicity was mixed up like a Death by Chocolate treat and I was,a giggling Black girl they forgot,wide-eyed, and different from his usual blank females and the beauteous skanks he courted  

I was that spacey sistah a black woman with red lips who fancied drop earrings, the kind that carelessly dangled 

It was late July and I could see out of my open window in the miniscule lackluster room as I waited on plastic jerks

I looked down at the electric city below me

It was Friday night still and I was drinking alcohol from Mars and Neptune, but I wasn't drunk 

I stood in this strange room the color of neon violet that matched my aura that was electric

Where was my date?

Why didn't he call?

I looked all around the empty room 

It was 9:00pm

I could barely drink from my bottle as I was a part-Black woman he silenced during World Wars and I was never at all pregnant 

He stood me up as I paid rent on Violet Mars

I was spaced out again now lost in the temples of Malaysia as I watched the ancient dance of the sun 

I was a single Black woman as I lit my filtered cigarette in a Violet room filled with auric colors left behind from the strange,alien space queen of the fairies wrapped in clear aqua blue plastic from the sphere of the Urania galaxy in a distant future that intertwines was now just fancy window dressing for interracial couples commingling 

I then landed on Violet Mars on an old mattress while the essence of strange moons fumigated my cheap rental space

I was now home

I was putting on makeup for a crude gentleman

By Tiffany Haty. 

December 15, 2022

Taji's flora charms
Black eyes sow an old village

Carob brown chanteuse 

By Tiffany Haty 

 

Neon Fuscia dream 

Swirling clouds fade as they dip 

Pilot of the sun 

By Tiffany Haty

Blue Centaur

 Blue Centaur 

Rings of Saturn

Fear climbs ajar stifling a birch tree

I’m divorcing the Devil

The wind blows against the black dress I wore to the funeral procession by the sea

My eyes were blotted out and my soul was forged into a 

mire

I was kissing shadows that escape me and I was an enthronement of a painted Black Queen 

I’m lost in a church amid the empty rows of pews 

I was transported  to  the year 3046  and I was flying in space now a female commander over a Russian wasteland laden with metal 

You’ve been on my mind 

There is danger from the moon 

I was dreaming of the blue Centaur’s photo exhibit of far off Nubian pyramids strewn with bionic people who were robed and emigrated into a geometric maze in a Sudanese desert 

You didn’t stay 

I dined alone after six and I was served crepe suzette set aflame in 1920 

I was singled out as an aging Lion with no money though my ex-husband is rich 

I was fascinated by the lush life of a sleek housecat 

An assassin named himself a god came down from the southside of Chicago and was captured on film with the neighborhood Inanna and a major love story blossomed 

I’m a Black woman who lives in a suite with no emotion dancing with red Oriental fans with flowers painted on them in a trance state

You never loved me 

The sun lit up the sky as the raindrops fall by day in Leschi and McGilvra 

Sophisticates disrobe in a Roman bath in 1978 during Nero 

Your smile is inviting 

The lady in black steel was a fembot and lived in the moon’s villa with flamingos bathing next to a serpent 

I shot the enemy down he was wearing a mask

The seashore translated ancient languages into pearlescent text 

Her mahogany brown hair flowed

and her eyes were opaque with black celestial crystals

Her voice was like a rain shower that echoed in stereophonic sound 

She met a soldier at the destruction of the city of Babylon on an alien spacecraft 

Silent attractions

I try to escape

I am the pearls of the narcissus flower gushing 

I’ll miss that love exiting through a trapdoor

It rained on the planet Neptune in 1975 in the future

A black coily haired female android named Sidra 11 lounged in an abandoned high rise in a bath of flower petals at night in a dystopian future where she was stonewalled by a lieutenant

Her long floor length cape and gown flowed and was of a chrome color in the palest blue shade that hung on her slim feminine bodily shape and billowed out from underneath her as she ran through the portals of the Czar of the Foiled Galaxy called Vesta and her synthetic skin was an phosphorescent gray 

She was later seized by Romans 

The moon was the sun’s wife in their Palace by the sequestered lake 

A squadron treads on black waters in order to seek out the neon virgin 

A bazaar of hydrangeas flowers 

 

 

By Tiffany Haty

3/20/20

 

Air's veiled flora storms

Gilded leaves fall on Tuesdays 

Lessons from July 

By Tiffany Haty

 

Wild night party rips 

Naked sun shares her blank aura

Sands are sun kissed tones

Mazatlán shares her lost Queen

Myths hang on her guilty rose.  

By Tiffany Haty 

September 12th,2023

 Gold medallions bled 

Hips sway on fallen temples 

Woman of Baghdad 

By Tiffany Haty

Gray shadows ran red 

Lavender queen trap fading

Platform engulfs song

By Tiffany Haty