Author Archives: tarringovaughan


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 (http://www.flexwriterscreativenetwork.net) 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.

Nobody Is Going To Love Me

Posted on in Poetry: Tears Of A Poet | 1 comment
where_is_the_love__by_julkusiowa

I want to love again I want to love again and celebrate the victory of two hearts cemented in a stone of everlasting commitment. I want to feel the voice of a lover singing to my heart. I want to hear the touch of passionate surrender embrace me and never part. I want to kiss […]

Something About Seth

Posted on in Poetry: A Different Kind Of Blues | 0 comments
med911021

He stands on shattered glass; pieces of a reflection mirrored by an all American boy with a shimmer of emotions flashing hidden secrets;  there is a thundering silence that shakes the foundation of his conscience. Everyone knows him but no one knows that there is something about Seth. He sits alone in a crowd with […]

In Traffic

Posted on in Another Crack In the Sidewalk | 0 comments
traffic_by_5_0_5

It is amazing the way the mind wanders when we are in traffic. We sit in a clutter of tempered stillness waiting for permission to go at the flash of a green light. There is so much observance we capture with our sight when we try to peek sideways at strangers who are intensely gripping […]

Neglect – from ‘The Public Journal of Literary Thought’

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

The greatest abandonment is when one forgets to love themselves.  There is certain predictability in life and we usually don’t see it until its right there in front of us, usually a moment too late.  The early evening began to collapse into night and I locked the door to my car and cautiously looked around […]

Nobody Knows Me

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Nobody Knows Me

There are no clouds today; no laugher worshipping an endless sky of windless decay. There are no trees singing in silent fragrances in the fields where children play. Today time has stalled becoming this witness on these tired streets where even history refuses to stay. And a stranger says this is a beautiful day as […]

As I Lay Myself To Wake

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joy_off_childhood_by_rezzan-d4dbniq

This night sleeps as the mind lays awake, restless in the humid escape of insomnia. I am alert as time cuddles me tight, motionless into the tease of a new day. In this moment, as a gentle breeze knocks calmly against the window of a dream, memories flow through my head like cinematography taking me […]

Names

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names

As I stand at ground zero, I look down and run my fingers across the structure of each engraved name. I remember where I was at that moment when the calm of life collapsed. I read each of their names in my mind and I see more than just names – these names are the […]

As September Cries

Posted on in Poetry: Tears Of A Poet | 0 comments
911

Today life is a poet as on this day of remembrance it has become the face of every emotion, the fear of every hand and the hope in every heart.  Today is more than a memory—today is a recognition of unity, faith and strength as we gather together to remember the tragedy within the day […]

Diversity – from ‘The Public Journal of Literary Thought’

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diversity

Life is a diversity of tears. We are all the same because we cry different and we are different because we have our own ways of believing.  I walk the streets at night on the feet of a tired mind watching and seeking that one vision of change.  I see lampposts blink in a magnitude […]

Some Days

Posted on in Poetry: Tears Of A Poet | 2 comments
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

In the beginning minutes of a day beautifully golden – air astute to the magical music of nature’s sound, I lay awake. I stare back at the shadows of naked trees– stagnant, but full of life as they stand in the glow of summer’s light becoming a part of the morning’s rise. There is a […]