Alone In The Dark

Life was like a symphony back then…hell it still is. Many sights
and sounds blending together to make some kind of sense
but at the same time made no sense at all. But I played my part
in the music (even if no one could hear me) I had my own little notes
blending in. The dark taught me how to comprehend
what my eyes were no longer seeing, processing my yesterdays
into tomorrow’s distinction. I was a silly little boy sitting all
along with nothing but darkness staring back at me. I learned how
to listen with my heart and hear with my mind.

My mother said I was strange sitting all along in the dark, but I didn’t care.
I told her I wasn’t stranger and that she should
embrace the darkness too. I was a silly little boy sitting along
with nothing but darkness staring back at me. I didn’t think I
was stranger at all, maybe a little different. Or maybe just a bit odd
but I used darkness as a moment of reflection because I understood
the light of day was going to bring new meanings and new melodies
from the orchestra known as life. I recognized that it wasn’t darkness
staring back at me but a new day. Maybe I wasn’t silly at all.

© 2008
Tarringo T. Vaughan

it is during these times that I hesitate
to take the small things in life for granted. My thoughts
are thirsty for a sip of recognition. The phone is not ringing/
haven’t rang all day–
the faucets are not dripping, the clock isn’t ticking/the battery
has died and I haven’t dusted
the framed memories hanging on my walls in days.

I wonder who is thinking about me;
I wonder who speaks my name
and who reminders a chance we spent together;
I wonder who inhales the scent from the aroma
of my mind and I wonder who hears the vibrations
echoing from the stairways of my heart
because there comes a time where we must
embrace every fabric of our human existence
and rejoice in the interaction of each other
because what is here today can be gone tomorrow

I’ve learned quickly nothing in this world
is meant to last forever except the footprints
we plant in each soul we touch through existence.
I lay on a couch surrounded by comfort
as I enjoy all that is around me
because there comes a time where we must
appreciate and value the small things; the flaws,
the absences and the daily mess of creation
that makes us relevant and remembered.

© 2010
Tarringo T. Vaughan
(Tears Of A Poet)

I use to run up and down this paved road singing
the sweet tunes of whistled happiness
manipulating older ears into their own sweet remembrance
of how their time here use to be. The older folk
always renewed history in telling the stories of their younger years
and now my own proud tears
bring this street back alive.

These lampposts have lifted their rust and fresh lights
shine down upon the feet of bicycles ready to smile again
and faded graffiti walls have washed themselves
of decay and now reach out to embrace
trees that have lost their names; these same trees
have found their identities again and now sparkle
in the sunlight of those golden days before crime
kidnapped the aspirations of many dreams;
before poverty took over the stage of hope
and before time took away the history
of a neighborhood that once held hands
upon this street of unity.

This poem is a memory
This poem is about /a place that will never be again
that place I used to call my home but my feet
still cry for this street because my heart
has never abandoned the beauty that nurtured
my growth; the beauty once absorbed by the foundation
of these sidewalks now dismantled
by the migration of everything that made life here
possible…

© 2010

Tarringo T. Vaughan

“Tears Of A Poet”

because life through these eyes can be a magnificence
of beauty  like a mirage of a dream sequencing
on the outlines of heavenly skies  but then
there are the many times
life through these eyes were like lonely echoes vibrating
on the edge of darkness that reminded me
that was alive/so alive that I lost myself
inside an endless cycle of confusion whereas I
could not even translate the mind
in occupancy of this body

and there are times I still reach to find
the hand of my own soul hoping and waiting
for it to massage the knots out of my sadness
and relax me back into the confidence of a smile
but there is no happiness until I get to know
and embrace the stranger staring back at me through
the eyes of something familiar.  I see a man
who has mirrored in the achievements of growth
and found the tears once hidden in an empty
childhood.  I see the wrath of a heart
led down the path of silence yelling to have a voice

and I see a man who had the choice to stay
inside that darkness but chose to break out and become
apart of a new life created through renewal
and sacrifice because without struggle and the complexities
of confusion I would’ve never become free…

there are times
I sit and stare through the eyes of a familiar stranger
to remind myself who I once was
and celebrate the journey of everything me.
© 2011
Tarringo T. Vaughan

And I can’t hide from this enigma
that takes over my body and controls the dark aspects
that infects, affects, effects
everything I have believed in as clarity.
Because behind these eyes; these spirals
of mystery is an outcast words have never heard;
a language with many translations acquired
through the years of turmoil and distinguished relations.

There is an aroma polluting every breath of air
with a fragrance that only covers up the stench
without barricading the smell of a skin
threaded by the definition of who I am on the outside.

Sometimes I fall when I’m supposed to rise
floating downward into an open ground
of the familiar
afraid to look up, afraid to reach out, afraid to stand
because on the inside
I’m hurting.

© 2010
Tarringo T. Vaughan

I am the scar that has been stabbed into a relentless silence
and left to bleed;
left to bleed the tears of unworthiness that still
lays witness on my skin as a scab that no longer festers,
a tattoo that showcases the healing of my voice.
I am the prisoner who was once locked down behind an inescapable
cage of inner rage chained
by my own outrage of shackled ugliness
until I released myself through the keys of reflection
recognized as my own beauty.
I am the soldier who was once caught in the crossfire
between ignorance and prejudice left for dead
until I stabilized the lifeline of my identity
and lifted my head.

I am the little boy who never dreamed;
bullied by fear and taught to believe that no one cared
but I overcame and learned that even I
could be victory.
I am the warrior who has had the strength to stand stronger
punch harder
and fight longer each time life knocked
me down on an unbalanced ground
meant to break every bone of my ambition.

I never gave up when the sky fell
and drenched me with a darkness that challenged
to captured my fate
and I never wilted when the hands of time
stopped and had me structured on an overlapping wall
of sadness.
I refused to allow the heart to surrender
because I am the bravery that echoes
through alleyways of championed growth

I am the desire that marches through the streets
as a parade of success,
I am the mission that has conquered
and withstood the distance within the evolution of hope
as in my eyes you see a dedication to overcome.

I am everything I could not be
I am every force that has made me un/break/able
I am me.

© 2010
Tarringo T. Vaughan

Because for so long I hesitated to share my voice,
afraid to be heard but now my mind
sings and rejoice
the plight of all I hid inside;
now hear all my visions collide
as the freedom of my words abides
the openness of my heart
the force of my desire; a blazing fire
that burns as a torch to be carried
on for generations
because I destructed my own hesitations
and now my soul will echo on
in the pages of tomorrow.

So much sorrow;
Too hard to swallow; strength once hollow,
I turned it all around and lifted a flag blowing
with the wind of self determination
and as my art became a confirmation
of all that flows within, I begin
to believe, realize and recognize
my independence to express; triggered progress
my pen blew up like dynamite
and now I confess…

This is my declaration; a literary celebration
of breaking through the bars,
escaping all who said ‘I couldn’t do it”.

I stand saluted as a liberated poet.

©2009
Tarringo T Vaughan