uplift through the cracks of shattered sidewalks

where footprints of promise have faded…

and there are always fields of inspiration

where one finds the golden gleam of sunlight

shining down through gray skies of tears.

Standing on those sidewalks and in those fields

is a young boy who is chasing dreams.

You can see it in the spirit in his eyes

and within the language of every step he takes –

even in times of suffering and pain;

during times when a broken education system

challenges to sink him deep down into failure’s embrace

There is always a smile on his face

because that young boy knows he can catch those dreams

you can see within his hidden feelings of pain

on those dark days when the world

empties down upon him the wrath of poverty’s rain

and cast over him past shadows

of inequality’s seemingly unbreakable chain.

But he will never be broken, because that young boy believes

and will never stop chasing dreams

as within his heart there is pride standing tall

and beating through the vessels

of his mind

is courage paving paths of strength and prosperity.

He’s going to be somebody – that young boy – he’s going to be

the prize in tomorrow’s eye because within his soul

determination lies and within his spirit there awakens

an inspiration that will reach high and above his own limitless sky.

© 2016

Tarringo T. Basile-Vaughan

Poetry @40

“A Different Kind Of Blues”

I watch strangers become categories; nameless figures traveling
as allegories just long enough to have a symbolic meaning
on the abstract sidewalks where footprints sweat steadily
in the humidity of historical value.

Everyone scrambles to the figurative modes
of a future but

time seems to be the game they play. Everyone has
somewhere to be but on any given day
the victory is a last place finish to nowhere.

There are times I am amongst them; a hidden narrative
just waiting to be exposed by one of those dreamers or
or by one of those believers. But often, I too am deceived
by what I perceive is my purpose. Every day is a challenge
to allow this face to breathe; to allow this mind to form rhetorical
thoughts as I suffocate in crowds of loneliness

waiting for just one sign of air. There are times
I wonder who even cares as one day I am just an anonymous
commuter traveling past stop signs to find another beginning
with a new end and on another day

I am one of many artistic figures creating difference
through the streets of Brooklyn; a character in someone’s
visional fable challenging the blind to wake up and see
the importance of

the smaller things and the destination of creation
when we allow ourselves to be written. We all are given a script
on this stage of life but it is those who improvise who are able
to stand out and rise to the applause of challenge
and it is those who become the new innovations
through the daily acts of living who take a bow

in the encore of life’s standing ovation.

© 2011
Tarringo T. Vaughan

We must come to value our hearts
as the inspiration lifting souls and guiding tears
to salvation and inner strength
because through our spirit the words we define
become the landmarks of destination
and the design stitched in the fabric
of each stanza throughout our contextual being/
we are the meaning

as we the poets are the ones who shelter
homeless metaphors sitting on the stairs of natures hand

we the poets give death the name of beauty
as in the act of demise we brilliantly come to understand

we the poets  are the sculptures who architect
happiness’s through every adjective in which elegance stands

we the poets are the carpenters who build courage
through our tears within every fear we withstand

and we the poets are the transgression, progression
and expression
that shall always remain outspoken

we the poets are the language of inspirational translation.
© 2010
Tarringo T. Vaughan

in his voice, as his raspy cough briefly interrupted the moment,
was the song of an elderly man missing the days of innocence
but briefly in this time, in the sight of the young boy
he now studied from across the street
he saw a familiarity. His vision saw support and togetherness;

his hearing heard the song of compassion
and in the charcoaled flavored heat, his heart felt
what he thought was forgotten;

the genius and destiny of hope. In his life he has seen
once inspiring brick-layered sidewalks become the mask
of crime that has kidnapped a neighborhood once
proud. He has seen the dreams of children become temporarily
paralyzed by the heights of poverty and many visions
of fear. He watched in silence over all these years

but the tears of his mind has always been vocal.

The shackles
of osteoarthritis that now held on to his bones and the slight
battle with old-aged deafness that now challenged
the vibration of harmony and not even the parade
of high blood pressure marching through his veins
could keep him from feeling the pain and decay

of days passed. But as he looked on at the sight
of burgers and hotdogs sizzling on the grill; as he looked on
at the pleasantries of young and old joining in good times
and fun playing the games of life; as he looked on
and lived again through the body language of the young boy
who now looked back at him

he saw the glimpse of renewal in a community
holding on to the aspects of a neighborhood’s inheritance.
For the first time in many decades, he saw the enjoyment
in dancing trees that waltzed in the breezes of tomorrow;
he felt shades of sweat trickle down his bronzed almond skin
that was the welcomed condensation of happiness
and he smelled a renewed energy of genetic fortitude
that was family all in the aroma of summer cooking –

and so…he dreamed on.
Tarringo T. Vaughan
© 2012

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)

Now son, I don’t want to see any more tears
because as I now look into your eyes I see a journey
of determination; I see fight, dedication
and a belief in yourself that has made
you the fine man you are today, but don’t you go thinking
that you would ever stop being mama’s little boy

because no matter how old
in years you get; no matter how independent
your life has become; no matter how wise
you have grown; my memory will always be those open arms

of warmth, nurture and protection.  Although my physical
presence has left you, that bond
is a connection that will live on through the genetics
of your soul.  You see son, the day I died, I gave birth to you
again.  I watched you cry, survive and grow
internally.  I watched you succeed, release your fears
which has lead you to be freed/
of all the pain you have grieved.  As I leave you,
I just want to take these few minutes
to let you know I am here
and that you will always be
mama’s little boy – as I now rest free and filled with joy.

© 2012
Tarringo T. Vaughan

Everyone seemed to ignore what her eyes have to say.
I stood there at a cross walk
In the middle of June day with sweat
dripping rapidly down the back of my mind
as I caught the song of this woman who was sometimes there
and sometimes everywhere
but often nowhere. She had a stench that hummed
for a nice bath filled with hope
because for years she has had to cope
with the stares and coldness
of a world that pretends she is just an excuse.

Her pride has been kicked with abuse
as the slow tempo of her voice has asked for help.
She wasn’t America’s favorite song
but the way she caught my attention
there was no doubt the singing of her presence
was a vision that did belong
as she sung to me.

She was homeless but her strength
stayed strong and in her lyrics was a woman
who had dreams that were battered
by the fist of a mental illness that kept her
unable to hold on to the definitions of herself.
She was hungry but her starvation
was the neglect from the hands that failed
to reach back as she grabbed
for a recognition to be understood
and to just be seen as a human being.

She was angry but continued to smile
because she knew she was a song
with lyrics that could change a life
if one just listened to the sight of her
sitting there covered in clothes that haven’t been
washed since the last time she was able to laugh
which was the last time she felt she existed.

She sung to me that day a song
with lyrics that has become the music
in my heart.

© 2010
Tarringo T. Vaughan

I had cool dreams and jazzy dreams;
I had the kind of dreams
that made my mind sway
and the kind of dreams
that took me away to another day
where I was someone with a name

I had dreams that my blues
were as smooth as the rhythm & rhyme of Langston
Hughes
and dreams where I stood tall
in freedom’s light
leading strong towards
all modern day civil rights

I had hopeful dreams and sweet dreams;
the kind of dreams that made my thoughts dance
and my eyes smile wide
upon the open air of future promise

I had dreams that my words
were the translation of life,
strength and sacrifice
and dreams that took me places
far and beyond anywhere I thought
I could be.

When I was younger
I use to stare off into the distance

and dream of all the possibilities
out there for me.

©2012
Tarringo T. Vaughan

and as I look back at what I’ve been through,
life was hard and struggled was true
but I faced the challenge
to become someone new

sitting here listening, hearing
my heart beat proud
with palpitations of my life
thumping out loud.
Nothing came easy, even from the womb
I was scared;
the ghetto was my playground
and everything around me flawed – I was a young child,
age of five and so newly alive,
trained to stand on my own feet
driven and able to survive
I write these words
so glad I’m alive

and as I look back at what I’ve been through,
life was hard and struggle was true
but I faced the challenge
to become someone new.

Sitting here watching, seeing all I’ve done
I was able to overcome
Just to become someone.
I no longer speak with a silent tongue
as my heart studies the portrait
of a mother who died young.
So many thoughts and memories
of how we had it so rough
it is because of her that I grew to be tough—I was a young child,
age of five and so newly alive,
allowed to battle defeat
and with strength I did survive
I write these words

So glad I’m alive.

© 2012
Tarringo T. Vaughan

It is the fragrance of love that electrifies the air I breathe
that keeps me much alive even when I think
it has forgotten me and left me behind in the company of loneliness.
But it is here, in the now/ living in everything around me
that makes me the man I have come  to be.

And as I recognize these inventions of life
I find the worth in the art of living as the value
in appreciating the simple things and making the most
of time because of everything around me
that has opened my eyes to see
that the delicacies of life didn’t shine until
death whispered in my deafness
and life slapped me across the face
waking me up to everything I wasted; everything I have come
to find joy; everything
that has become so precious to my survival– the life lines
that set me free;

free to live
free to love
free to appreciate
and free to value
everything around me.
© 2012
Tarringo T. Vaughan