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Tarringo T. Vaughan

Mind Of a Creative Writer

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Look at me,   standing here at the place we first met looking out at the rolling waves as the ocean breeze blows against my face. Thinking of you paints...

They all seemed so strange. Northampton, Massachusetts wasn’t a place I’ve ever heard of before until I went to college in a nearby small town of Amherst....

This, the beautiful temperature of sunset, is something to be admired. There is easiness here; a steadiness that has captured me as I sit, in the backyard of...

I search for truth in strange places. An open window halfway shut keeps me optimistic that everything around me will make sense…eventually.  The air escapes...

With footprints vibrating in the ocean waves of existence, they breathe becoming a photography of vision/hard to believe. Deep in the Atlantic blue, off the...

My birth was a publication as my life has become the awaking of new journeys risen from the history of literary pathways enriched by minds fluent in the poetic...

For Stella L. Vaughan, my grandmother Early August sunrise like the beauty I remember staring through the soul of her eyes – as another anniversary of her...

If we could not feel what we see then we would not hear what is heard.   We are the sensitive animal that roams in the open fields of negativity and vulgarity. ...

I used to look out fingerprinted stained windows when I was younger; staring off into curious tomorrows full of questions and sometimes tears filled with sorrow. ...

In 1969 a united voice stood tall; it was a voice that fought back against oppression and a voice that vibrated within the echoes still heard today against the...


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