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Tarringo T. Vaughan

Mind Of a Creative Writer

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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...

I once stood unknowing, unaffected, untouched and uninspired by their brilliance:  words sprinkled on a canvas abstract in their meaning and obsolete in...

The Thirty-Ninth Song             Written April 27, 2015   Time only pauses but for one day and it is during this stillness of life that I take the...

Life peeks at me just to make sure I’m living.   …and isn’t it ironic how you find the growth in yourself that you felt would always be hidden. ...

Her tears only dripped when my eyes closed. I pretended not to hear them but I listened, I listened to the clutch of her heart whisper an apology asking for...

I am just one of many experiments who stand alone in rehearsed crowds lost in a maze of widowed daydreams trying to find tomorrow with transient eyes shut to...

Sometimes you can forget where you came from, but that somewhere will never forget you. Memories triggered by glimpses of familiar faces. Smiles I once knew and...

I never liked the taste of lies, like a half sip of cognac they are tough to swallow. So I should’ve known better than to trust a man who couldn’t look...

There are times I stand in the traffic of life naked with nothing on but the clothing of my own mind. I watch faces that barely breathe and eyes that deceive those...


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