She Gave Me Life

(A Mother’s Day Tribute)

Her smile shared laughter when pain and poverty

challenged her soul.  Her eyes sparkled joy

when sadness weakened her courage

…but she stayed strong

because through her journey on this earth

the gifts she birthed

were the reasons she knew she belonged

she was just sixteen years when she labored

me into this world, instantly transforming

into a woman as she held me in her arms

and from that moment she gave

me vision, as through her eyes

I found my path towards success.  There were sticks

and stones on those long, winding roads, but she showed

me how to keep going and never like fear

blind my ability

she gave me talent, as through her artistry I learned

the skills of written language.  There were times doubt threatened

to challenge penmanship, but she taught me

how to find the poetic language of my heart

she gave me strength, as through her struggle

I learned to never give up.  There were times when the skies

darkened and drenched me with internal pain, but she guided

towards the sunshine, brightening the confidence

of my definition

and she gave me hope, as through her being

I learned how to love.  There were times I felt

locked in a closet, afraid to be me and afraid to feel, but

she accepted everything I am, giving my individuality

the freedom to heal

though I miss her presence still,

I celebrate her memory,

I celebrate her continued nurture

as I will always be thankful

She gave me life.

© 2020

Tarringo T. Basile-Vaughan

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 no longer paused on mute.

I write America

begging you to see, that even as an educated

black man the sirens of brutality still scream towards me.

At just the young age 12 police targeted my skin

not because I committed a crime, but simply

for being at the wrong place at the wrong time;

that was my only sin.

I fit the description – questioned

just because of someone’s fear and fiction.  I was accused of being

trouble even though I was not one to step outside

morality’s bubble.  I had dreams, but at that moment

I realized what hopes I had could be dashed

in a flash if that someone decided I was the one

that was the description; any chance of a future would’ve

been slashed.

I was presumed guilty, but what they never assumed

was my innocence, because I was –

I was just a child coming home from school;

A poetic dreamer who wasn’t even considered cool

I was a mama’s boy studying to find a way

to escape the inner city of poverty and rise up in a world

that was constructed to hold me down, but in their eyes

there was nothing I could say.

Now today as I look back I frown, not because I was accused,

but because I allowed that moment to abuse

the mission of my mind to achieve and the intuition

of my heart to believe; any goals I had almost drowned.

I allowed that moment

to temporarily halt my desire to be a somebody.

Luckily it didn’t shrink me down into a nobody,

but it could’ve —

and that’s what scares me.  So I write America,

not for your sympathy or even your empathy–

I write to give you an example

of why the lives slain on the streets

matter,

of why those suffering daily just to survive

matter,

of why dark skinned children in failed education

systems matter,

of why those who fall victim to the cycle of welfare dependence

matter,

and most importantly why Martin, Malcolm and so many other’s who

marched on the streets of civil rights lost their lives

so that today’s Black Lives could Matter…just the same.

I write America — to give the ink of courage and equality

a name.

Tarringo T. Basile-Vaughan

© 2016

Poetry @ 40

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 birth, twenty-one years before my own soul

began to explore this earth.  I didn’t know her, but she

refused to give in to the abuse of discrimination

any longer from the many generations to follow.

She saved my life that day in Montgomery, Alabama

because she was simply tired of standing on worn feet;

symbolized by the history of ancestors once enslaved,

there was no way – on this day- that she was giving up her seat.

She saved my life on that Cleveland Avenue city bus

because the history of her skin would no longer

allow her to be ushered to the back of the bus.  She was tired

of seeing her people slain and tired of walking on unequal sidewalks

drenched in blood stains.  She was tired of crying the tears

only her own fears could hear.  She finally spoke up by refusing

to give up a seat she felt equally belonged to her.  No matter the consequences,

she no longer cared

because

she was physically tired of being told she was the lessor,

Emotionally tired of racism,

and decided –on this day- that it was time to overcome;

It was time to overcome the many decades negro dreams

have starved for the opportunity of freedom; the many years the system

abused the hopes of the people she saw reflected in her past,

present and future.  She sat and refused to give up

to define strength.

Rosa Louise Parks saved my life on a Thursday.

Before I even took my first breath, her determination

showed me the passion to express and become a voice;

before I even took my first steps,  her bravery

allowed me to stand tall and strong in my own skin

and before my eyes even began to see the prejudices

of an unjust world, her incarnation led

to the freedom of my vision; a vision of equality

and the integration of all souls as one unity.

© 2015

Tarringo T. Vaughan

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 ashamed of what

they would see.

Words once silence and broken

have now become my strength

as

in the shadows of my own emptiness

I have learned that I don’t need the world

to accept all of me,

I don’t even need the bigotry of perception

to understand my love/this love

All I need is to become someone’s difference -

that person who inspires

and ignites the flame that warms up the soul

of another.  All I need is to be someone’s completeness-

that person who finishes the sentence

within the paragraphs of desired passion.

All I need is to allow these rough hands

to embrace the softness of joy that true love

explores;

for all I need

is you.

(c) 2015

Tarringo T. Vaughan

that fought back against oppression and a voice that vibrated

within the echoes still heard today against

the refusal to be treated as second class-citizens;

it was a moment in the history of this nation

that sparked a new celebration; a new pride of a people

paving the way towards new freedoms of equality .

It started as a raid, but ended in the rise of the self-made;

the proud members of the Gay community

who soared as founders of a movement that started

on Christopher Street and now marches on

through every major street of every major city

in recognition of how far we have come.  The will to strive, to prosper

and to advocate ignited a flame that summer morning

in Greenwich Village; a flame that has become a fire

of momentum that continues to burn as that united voice

still shouting from the foundations of the Stonewall Inn

to the front stairs of the United States Supreme Court, where,

on another day in June, 2013, struck down the Defense of Marriage Act

giving way to a string of decisions

that has ruled state bans on gay marriage unconstitutional

and has instilled hope in those who continue to follow their heart

on a path that will eventually lead to the full rights

of all of humanity.

Today that united voice has reached out and extended

in a full force of pride

overseas

to break the inequality of anti-gay laws threating silence

and extinguish the harsh punishments gay men and women face

in countries where laws promote homophobic violence.

And it all started on a night in June; a night where

the liberation of a voice

fought back and sent a message to society that we are who we are

we are proud to be who we are

and being ourselves is our right, our freedom, our courage

and most of all

our protection…

thank you Stonewall.

© 2014

Tarringo T. Vaughan

April 27, 2014  8:25 A.M.

The sun is only slightly shinning, but on this day

my age has the brightest smile.  I’ve watched life grow

and it has come a long way since my early days.

Back then, just a child, I use to celebrate laughter

as an innocent melody of freedom, but quickly I learned

how much sacrifice it took for me to have that freedom -

I used to believe the world was everyone’s kingdom

and was made aware – during my 11th song – that my kind

wasn’t always wanted here, in this place my journey now

calls home –

you see,

by the time I conquered puberty, just old enough to sculpt

my own individuality, I felt that I was alone.

It was a loneliness that by the time I was in my twenties

I evicted from the shelter of my heart and begin to start anew.

I wasn’t only a black man, brown skin,

I was also a gay man, a vision of sin

But in order to win, I had to create a voice

to let the world know that the definition of me

was only a choice in my creation and by relation

the song that I share in my thirties is a song that is blessed

with the rhythm of my soul and the blues of my heart -

lyrics of equality.

The clouds have taken over the fullness of the sky

as I conclude this 38th song, but even they belong,

even those clouds symbolize the influence of creation.

I am reminded, the darker days need to be celebrated also,

because without them

there are no rhythm & blues because our tears

always need a reason to dance.

(2014)

It was not so long ago

that I found the words to express

all that I’ve come to know

in this world

and within this life that I have been given

to live.

It was not so long ago

that I broke the silence

and found a voice within these words.

And as I continue to fulfill every aspect

of every emotion that has evolved,

I move into a New Year with a wisdom

to inspire the expression

that remains within.

I will move these words forward

to nurture the hope that freelances

through open roads

where freedom still struggles to sing.

I will move these words forward

within the rhythm of dreams

that each child’s eyes shall bring

and I will move these words forward

so that they will vibrate new meanings

for generations to come.

(c) 2014

Tarringo T. Vaughan

The sunlight glistens as the warmth of early March

melts the landscape

of Southern Vermont’s winter freeze.

There is a steady breeze

highlighting a late Saturday afternoon where soon

twightlight will dim the bright foundation

of Midtown Manchester;

a place where skiers and snowboarders will soon gather to greet

familiar and new faces

from near and distant places;

a small town where new created memories will meet;

where the language of time takes a moment to pause

as nature embraces.

And here, in a small cafe called Ponce

we sit at a tiny table for two

just in the corner of a small rustic dining area.

The wooden floors creak the sounds of generations merged

and in the heated air, an aroma of cinnamon flavored

muffins linger as the ceiling has taken on the same color

of sunset’s painted sky.

As we look into each other’s eyes

there is a little Ella Fitzgerald whispering in the background

just loud enough to feed the listening

appetites starving for some Jazzy Blues as on the walls

the fingerprints of history are barely

faded behind the shadows of observers

captured in different structures of conversation

as are we.   In this place where no one knows our names,

are a witnesses to another chapter in our storybook of love

just as we have become witnesses to the poetry written and observed around us.

So many smiles

gathered in a little place, in a little town .  So many journeys

colliding on similar paths of inspiration and renewal

and so many lovers romancing life

just by being a part of life  -  loving each other by loving

every aspect of humanity that rests around us.

(c) 2013

Tarringo T. Vaughan

written as I think of you

(for Dominic Basile-Vaughan)

Dear Love,

You were delivered to me through the gentleness

of his eyes.  You were the warm tenderness – the healing

I needed four years ago as my tears flowed

silently on the heels of a sudden lost.

You came to me through the beauty of his heart

on a night my mind tried with all its might

to shut out the pain I was feeling, a night in which I tried

so hard to fight the loneliness

that for so many years was never before

so revealing.  As I look back, it was the moment of that night

that showed me a new existence,

within him, through you, I felt myself matter

as our connection shared a new conversation both in words

and through our physical energy.  We have come together

as an unbreakable form of you, the bond created

during a time neither one of us expected

but a time that changed our lives.  Now every time I look

into his eyes,

I am reminded of the passion I have found

within that was always there waiting for just the right person

to share it with.  I am reminded of the thoughtfulness

and the togetherness I’ve found; the emotional foundation

and support I have gained from every touch of his embrace –

as he has given you a face, a body, a soul

that has become my partner for life.

Sincerely,

a man in love.

(c) 2013

Tarringo T. Vaughan

curbs of dreams suppressed

on streets of criminality where a child’s eyes

reflect the fatality of poverty’s disguise.

But, within the shadowed streets of Elm City,

there is hope, there is always hope

when a community stands up and takes pride

in the education of future generations

there is always a chance of escape from decades

of recycled failures when neighbors

mend their voices

and fight for a child’s rights and choices

and there is always a reason to believe

when there are teachers who care

about the tears that visibly hide

on the inner city streets

where empty promises deceive.

From the depths of Elm City is where our children stand –

and they are not just statistics or misused funds;

they are not just test scores or faces to be ignored–

they are the young lives waiting to reached;

they are the hands raising their hands

not just because they know the answer, but because

they are the answer;

they are the smiles that inspire the importance

of education and they are the thoughts and ideas

who reflect the dedication of learning—

they are the children of Elm City -

the commitment of today inspiring

the vision of tomorrow.

(c) 2013

Tarringo T. Vaughan