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Tarringo T. Vaughan

Mind Of a Creative Writer

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Sometimes I feel I’ve tried too hard– to be everything other than me/I stare in mirrors waiting for echoes to reveal the eyes of a man who others aren’t...

Son, I have but a few words for you and it is only going to take a few minutes of your time – Boy as I look down upon you from the heavens of my new journey’s...

All around me are distractions and attractions. And the world can be a fucked up place to be.  But do I pay attention more because I’m a writer?  As I look...

This is the wordplay of my heart dancing on a thunderstorm of emotion; raindrops drizzling a haze inside the sensory zone of an inspirational maze a duality...

There have been those who told me where I’ve been and where I have yet to go but I had to look down within the bosom of soul and let them know that I define...

Through their eyes I see the instruments of hope and in their faces I hear decayed dreams whistling through the hollow silence of these forgotten streets where...

I have always had a fear of drowning, therefore I float.  I flow with the currents that take me upstream and empties me in the mouth of life’s ocean; waves silently...

There is no crying in poetry because poems don’t cry for sympathy/they cry to expose the human emotion of translation and they cry to ignite the fuel of connection...

She was a whistle sitting silently in front of corner store with her home wrapped openly around her exposing her life and the orchestra of her tears. But no...

I have an appetite for success. The stomach of my mind is rumbling to be fed because I am starving for new challenges and accomplishments.  I want to be the...


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