Author Archives: tarringovaughan


Tarringo T. Vaughan always believed he had a love affair with literature. One of the first pictures he saw of himself was of him at maybe the age of three or four year’s old sitting with a book in his hand. But for Tarringo, growing up in the depths of the inner city both in Boston, MA and Springfield, MA made him believe that expression through the literary voice was un-cool and unattainable. As a very quiet and shy child he learned it became very valuable in his self expression. Born in 1976, Tarringo was the first child, grandchild and nephew in a family that had grown accustomed to struggle. His mother was a teenager who quickly lost the support of my father who today he knows very little of. These aspects of his life triggered the inspiration of his pen. Later in life his struggle with self confidence and homosexuality catapulted his desire to write. He felt a need to educate and help others in his situation through words. It became Tarringo’s ambition to be somebody and in 1995 he entered his freshmen year at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst where he was still a very quiet individual and still refused to make a career involving literature. But his English courses continued to intrigue him the most and through those courses he became familiar and connected with African American writers such as James Baldwin and Langston Hughes who taught him that it was cool to be whom he was. James Baldwin was also gay and proudly exhibited his sense of self and Langston Hughes was a genius in poetry whose suave lyrical delivery drew Tarringo into his expression. And as his education furthered he found himself opening up more and taking on the role of a leader socially. Tarringo T. Vaughan graduated in 2000 from the University Of Massachusetts - Amherst with a Bachelors degree in English and Communications as a 2nd major. Tarringo currently works in the healthcare field but is working on his 2nd poetry book for publication titled “A Crack In The Sidewalk” following his first book of poetry titiled "Beyond Rainbows & Yellow Brick Roads" and is the founder of the Flexwriters Creative Network ( which currently features an online magazine, a social site and many literary outlets for poets, writers, publishers and readers. Future plans include a publishing company as well as actual an actual café for writers and spoken word nights. His writing consists of many styles as he does like neglecting rules and going beyond the norm.

The Day Rosa Parks Saved My Life

Posted on in New Poems | 0 comments

She saved my life on a Thursday, brave “colored” soul; a woman strong – an inspired spirit – stubborn to inequality, showing the world in 1955 that she and everyone else who shared her skin that we did indeed belong.   She saved my life on the first day of December, two decades before my […]

Old Aching Bones

Posted on in Poetry: Tears Of A Poet | 1 comment
old black man

He caught my attention and stared back at me – with beads of gray hair (outlining his face) and an emergence of wrinkles (aging his grace.) He had a cane by his side as he rocked in his chair humming the sounds of all years gone by. His rugged hands explained his sacrifice as he […]

All I Need

Posted on in Love Poems, New Poems | 2 comments
All I Need

  My heart – once silenced – has been captured and these dreams – once lonely – are now shared with your love.  You taught me how to rise above as I was once lost inside a shell of emptiness, afraid to be me, afraid to expose myself to this world because I was so […]

Coffee Shop Flyers

Posted on in Poetry: A Crack In the Sidewalk | 0 comments
Coffee Shop Flyers

Coffee Shop Flyers     I think I’ll have a caramel toffee mocha.   “tall, Grande, or venti?”   I could tell she’s been working at Starbucks for awhile.  A fake shine of happiness on a Saturday morning with a line of customers already with their minds made up just waiting…just waiting for a workaholic […]

Grand Central

Posted on in Another Crack In the Sidewalk | 0 comments

Captured in admiration between the study of fear and the tranquility of fascination, I watch a flash mob of minds scurry in different directions to beat time to new destinations. Scents of Magnolia cupcakes tiptoe through vanilla halls where voices travel in the walls decorated in architecture of a magical acoustic. I am in the […]

We the Poets

Posted on in Poetry: A Crack In the Sidewalk | 1 comment

We must come to embrace our literary minds as the great educators of  life because through the many roads we have traveled, we have become the expression behind the sacrifice with our written voices translating our emotional prose into echoes that will travel through time as our genetic ink. We must come to value our […]

Time Never Answered Back

Posted on in Diary Of A Gay Black Man | 0 comments

It was just me, warm beer, the phone and a clock as I sat there in the dark spotlights of loneliness. A Friday night and I was sitting alone staring off into the past wondering if I said the wrong thing or maybe it was something I didn’t say. The beginning years of my thirties […]

Critique – from the Public Journal of Literary Thought

Posted on in Public Journal: Thoughts and Translations | 0 comments

There are no experts in the world of expression. We all read and interpret for different reasons.  As observers we challenge with opinion and gain knowledge by offering knowledge but we can’t critique someone’s heart even if the emotions are misspelled.  I once found myself endlessly free writing in my freshman year writing class.  My […]

A Capella

Posted on in Poetry: A Crack In the Sidewalk | 0 comments

Their eyes sing to me like they are instruments whistling on these streets of A capella. Her smile is enough to make me sway as she stands in front of trees that doo wop in the vocalized winds of challenge. She is barely young but not old enough to be a woman. Yet she has […]

Argument With A Poet

Posted on in Poetry: A Crack In the Sidewalk | 0 comments

Argument With A Poet As he studied my attention I refused to blink.  He told me things about my- self I tried to keep hidden under a coffee stained American Eagle sweat shirt that found me on the Clearance rack. I told him to fuck off!  But he continued to weave his words through my […]