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The Places We Call Home
Everlasting memories – those familiar places
we have known
embrace our soul during times when we
feel we are ... ∞ 
A Perfect Day
Summer writes the perfect poem as this day roams—gracefully.
Peacefully the descriptive imagery of euphoric clouds
gaze like lovers in ... ∞ 
Tarringo T. Vaughan always believed he had a love affair with literature. One of the first pictures he saw of himself was of him at maybe the age of three or four year’s old sitting with a book in his hand. But for Tarringo, growing up in the depths of the inner city both in [...]
FWC Cares Project
A Letter To Him Dear Him, I once saw you standing on the corner once before/hidden in the mirrors of self-blame and masked by feelings of shame. You thought no one knew you; you thought no one heard the true language of your heart and you thought no one cared –at least that’s what...
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Life always takes the time to remind us we don’t have forever. That is why it is so important to love who we are inside because tomorrow won’t remember us if we don’t take the time to smile today. It was a still moment on a simple day. I was a bit...
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“From The Shadows Of Curiosity” Although I believe homosexuality is something you’re born with, in my childhood years I really never thought of men sexually. It wasn’t until my puberty years that I began to wonder about the adult man body. I always used the excuse to myself that I was just curious...
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Summer Winds I write this poem I write this poem as I have discovered the manhood of a journey and puberty of discovery; I write this poem with the breath of early summer winds massaging the mental muscles of my mind as I reflect. I was once a young man stuck inside the neglect...
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“Is it true what they say about black men?” Now how do I answer this question? My usual answer is we’re just like other men, there are different shapes and sizes and we’re not all twelve inches! I guess all myths stem from some reality but you must remember that all myths are...
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When we experience growth we sometimes become unrecognizable to ourselves. The music thumped as hesitant shadows scraped the dance floor with stiffened movements and wild attire. Black lights spotlighted the lint of many minds loose and intoxicated. I stood with a drink half filled with ice leaning against a crowded bar...
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This is a ceremony of celebration to never again neglect my own heart because it has been held hostage by the ignorance of closed minded views; it has been torched as a sinner by the same bible that says God loves all its children and it continues to be called a faggot through the...
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Was I supposed to just run away? Or maybe being just another faggot I was supposed to shiver and be afraid of the big bad drunken straight man in the sailor suit running at me. I stood still with arms folded as he raged with many people holding him back and a...
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The silence begins yet again. There is a soft music surrendering to the reflection of my mind. Perhaps Jazz or some tender R&B but in this memory I am sitting on a park bench with no one around me but traffic and little black squirrels gnawing on egg corns distracting me the...
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I smiled inside. Their two hands connected perfectly creating a picture of commitment and beauty. Two black women walking proudly down the street not afraid of showcasing their love and I smiled again. I smiled because for that moment no one stopped to stare at them in disgust; no one even gave a...
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