Monday, January 24, 2011

Wind Chimes

It is a s h a t t e r e d silence
that massages the eardrums
of my mind as I dream
within the currency of timeless winds; priceless
arrangements of sound whistling
and ringing in harmony
like a choir of voices illuminating in the ministry
of song.

And I am captured inside radiating
echoes of lyrical imagery; an escape
within an escape of dancing rhymes floating
in a mist of crystallized mystique;
soft notes of music
unique… to the naked eye
of modulation.

These are the wind chimes of living
that reminds me that I am alive
with their sudden motion
of delight that rattles the stillness
of the night releasing a magic
of disappearing emptiness
inhaled through the imagination of musical
vibrations awakening
the tone of freedom.

© 2010
Tarringo T. Vaughan

Thursday, January 20, 2011


So I guess I’ve made some mistakes/
have done some things in my life that has my mind
fucked up on an overdose of regret
seeking answers to all these problems I’ve faced;
these problems so hard to forget.
So I guess that makes me a flawed man;
a man who have made some bad choices
just to find the right path towards growth
and as my heart reflects, I wish someone would’ve told me
that life is meant to be this way.

I wish someone would’ve told me at the age of five
that it was okay to be scared because it is that fear
that instills in us the strength to survive.
I cried so hard from trying to hide tears of vulnerability
that led me to problems that scarred me mentally;

I wish someone would’ve told me during all those times
I was lost that there would always be directions
leading me back to the destination of my own heart.
I was so afraid of never finding my own way
that I faced self-made problems that led me to tear
myself apart;

and I wish someone would’ve told me before I began to love
that it would hurt and sometimes neglect me
because love is not all about the good feelings, it’s also about
the heartbreak and pain that builds
our inner emotional frame.
But I wasn’t prepared leading me towards the problem
of trusting and feeling again.

So I guess I’ve faced some problems/
have made some mistakes to protect my own heart.
There are even days I don’t even recognize
the scattered tears that overflow into this acute
ocean of remorse; tears that just won’t let go
of past healing. So I guess this makes me a flawed man
but I just wish someone would’ve told me
I never had to be perfect.

© 2010
Tarringo T. Vaughan

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Born To Write

My ink is the articulation that flows freely from the womb
of expression. I’ve lived the everyday hustle
and survived the reoccurring struggle
of broken dreams
poor themes
and rode the railroad of survival

to destinations where hopeful promises
were never what they seemed.

I’ve seen hungry eyes dilate through centuries
of starvation and I’ve heard angry minds
bow to the applause
of determined ovations;
I’ve watched homeless souls search
the fields of anxious streets
for new shelters of hope; I’ve heard desperate silence
disrupt into new energies of violence
and I’ve witnessed through this air
many faces of strength evaporate
into disrupted fragrances of fear. And their voices
have given birth to my words,

because I was born this way;
I was conceived with the ink of poverty
hemorrhaging through my mind;
I was born to write for the child who challenges
new strategies of believing with the victory
of achieving; I was born to write for the eyes
that blink new illustrations of inspiration
and through the translation of my heart
I was born to write the cure
for the unspoken.

I breathe poetry in every emotion I’ve inhaled
and through the nostrils of influence
I’ve written the realities of those who have suffered
on the cold, harsh roads of a poor society’s soil
because I have lived these words
and I have felt these words
I was born this way;
I was born to write.

© 2010
Tarringo T. Vaughan

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