Tag Archives: Tarringo T. Vaughan

After the Rain

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Poetry

    6:58 A.M the sky cried   through the misery of darkened skies the rain came down harassing sleepy eyes and solemnly splashing against drowning curbs;   it bullied blind windshields and bloated thirsty fields   it welted drowsy highways and feed angry puddles flooding hurried streets – like a tempered   soul the […]

Thoughts From A Loft At The End Of June

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loft_by_sycamores_and_cedars-d4u7c33

I wonder what Langston Hughes would’ve done if there were no words – I wonder how he would’ve taught the world about deferred dreams if there was no way to write the blues.  I wonder what would become of language if the fears of Shakespeare didn’t tell tales in old English rhyme and didn’t retell […]

Sunset Road

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Road_Trip_by_Dynnnad

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 fields of imagination where summer leaps. Sometimes, often…as I look off into the sunset, I find myself asleep with open eyes standing off to the […]

Portrait Of A Poet

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9904830-Vintage-letter-concept-Stock-Photo-poetry-pen-writer

I once stood unknowing, unaffected, untouched and uninspired by their brilliance:  words sprinkled on a canvas abstract in their meaning and obsolete in their influence.   I had no connection to their worth as they were strangers to my intelligence. To be honest, I found them quiet boring and to me they were just whoring […]

DOB

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black-boy-street-art-Copy

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 time to find my own reflection  through the shadows of yesterday,  It is during this hesitance that I log my thoughts into the journals of tomorrow.   […]

‘Irony’ from the Public Journal of Thoughts and Translations

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il_fullxfull.287930729

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.  And that growth is like a ticking time bomb just waiting to be triggered by fate.  For me that explosion usually happens after a mistake or […]

I Heard The Blues In Her Eyes

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I-heard-the-blues-in-her-eyes

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 the forgiveness/of my hunger. I wasn’t mad at mama, she was younger; younger than most mother’s. Twenty-one years of age standing in welfare lines reaching […]

One Of Many

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man-in-crowd-Raymond-Zrike

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 the reality of yesterday. It is when I open my mind that I – not only see – but recognize that I am just one of […]

Yesterday’s Past

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yesterdays-Past

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 eyes I once recognized repainted a portrait of childhood over twenty years aged, but never faded on the canvas of yesterday’s past. They were reminders of who I […]

Fourteen

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writing

Fourteen A moment of greatness is when one recognizes his own identity.  I was just a young boy, barely fourteen years of age staring down at a blank piece of yellow lined paper with a pencil twirling in my right hand. There were so many things to write but my mind couldn’t find the voice […]