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Tarringo T. Vaughan

Mind Of a Creative Writer

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What Time Left Behind   A Four family house, all white with a trim of red; stain glassed windows and steps of concrete stone. A house no longer a home...

  Winter’s Song   The snow fell today, and and silence lifted throughout the streets; no whistling winds or chilling air blowing against the breath...

There is always hope when the beauty of roses uplift through the cracks of shattered sidewalks where footprints of promise have faded… and there are always...

It does not take a crown, a throne or a bloodline of royalty to become a king; it takes the heart of a man and the sweat of a warrior. A man does not become...

Art By Antwan Sargent, www.i-d.vice.com Voices silenced; minds hypnotized, stereotyped by violence – HANDS UP, DON’T SHOOT the injustice of equality...

  Somethin’  was a knockin’ at the door this morn’ I said somethin’ sad was a knockin’ at the door this morn’ and I didn’t want to get up...

In Summer In summer, the song sings itself. ~William CarlosWilliams I hear the songs again.  Back when my mind was in the body of innocence – before growth when...

I wonder what Langston Hughes would’ve done if there were no words – I wonder how he would’ve taught the world about deferred dreams if there was no way to...

Early morning sunrise surprises the ocean’s yawn as it quietly pounds against sleepy rocks that awaken at the renewal of dawn. If there could be a place where...

A poet’s mind never sleeps; you can hear it crying through tears when the soul weeps and even inside the journey of a dream it lays awake, roaming off into...


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