Spirits unit…

When the lights diminish

Your stars shine

A paradox converging

Timeless ticks of time

Replaced by the music

You place in my mind

Twisting, turning, jumping,

High-fiving, cheers deep inside

Raging outward into dance

Each beat brings me closer

To an end

That I only want to start again

Circles connecting

Touching

Never dividing

Notes enveloping us

Engulfing us

Metaphorically touched

By soft sound igniting out of you

This is how we connect

With never having met.

By

Angela K. Crandall

©6/29/15

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Rapid-Repeat…

Why is it when I bleed, he licks my wounds and feeds?

In my time of need consuming me?

Starved and hungry

I’m bearing my bones

Bits of me crumble to the edge

I’m peering over

Deceived that the fall isn’t far

I’ll land on my feet as the cat beneath

Am I broken?

Pieced together by strings

Did I create the illusion of weakness through my own guilt?

Dreams I myself devour in my waking life

Is the opposition that which is eroding me?

I trace the curves of my body left

My gifts of words float out of me

Soothing others afflictions

Waiting for someone to calm me in my constant anxiety

Winding down the notch, turning off the alarm, I drift

Dropping into unconsciousness beneath the surface seen

Diving and bobbing in and out of lucidness

Desiring to linger in a launch pad of creations

Born only of thought

Nobody in attendance

Nearby

Close

Confirmations held by one

Undone soul

Of lost hope

In visions

Directed in my head

Continuous film

Unending…

By

Angela K. Crandall

©6/28/15

A curiosity of confusion

Am I too old to see the wonder?

Challenge the definition of when the world shakes its fist at me.

Flying metaphorically with the breeze pulling my hair back behind me. 

In distress shaking as I shiver half dressed in the morning dew. 

 I lay beneath the grass and roll as if I am a dog or animal wanting to be a part of it all.

Corporations have torn me from my means of realisitc survival and placed me in a house with things

Strived for worked for demeaned for

I am degrading myself for comfort, luxuries, a building to sleep in

Never having thought of the stars as once the dome I’d rest under.

Pulling myself up I remember my four legged friends their sweet faces and smiles. 

Giving up freedom for others, pets I love, people I love. 

A man who also works so we can be secure

We strengthen each other even in times of defeat

I take the car keys in my hand, grab my bag on the deck, and remember.

It is all worth it

yet somehow I still struggle to accept this

Not to just get in my car and go.

I”m held back by these responsibilities

And love

When so many say Love should never hold you back.

By

Angela K. Crandall

©6/26/15

She’s somewhere….

How long have you been searching for Cinderella

A guardian angel

Is she watching from above, below?

Right here on earth

Does she know each move you make before you do so?

On your trail inch by inch

You are oblivious to her presence

Perhaps she follows you

You’re aware but unable to make proper contact

Seconds, instances, lost

Have you been set up by a paradox?

Meanings displayed

Verses

Speak in sing song

Carry on carry on

And

I do.

By

Angela K. Crandall

©6/24/15

By rebel4universal2acceptance Posted in Poetry Tagged

Summer bliss

Take time to open a book

Enter another dimension

Receive words, phrases, knowledge, and vocabulary

Let these linger on your tongue

In your psyche

Touching your soul

Inspiring each idea

That now comes with each new chapter

The writer offered up

Giving of herself to you

Intimate connections through her

Characters, people, creations

So you can float away

On a instant

Vacation!

By

Angela K. Crandall

©6/23/15

Chasing Trains

In our pajamas

Dad loads us in the car

My brother and I

The excitement intensifies

As if we’re shooting stars

Hearing the toot toot, and engine of steam as it travels

Anticipation as it rattles

Down the tracks

Never going back only forward

We stop at the track and the conductor waves

My dad click clicks his camera away

Until it has passed

Then in the dark room

A little small alcove holding our washer and dryer

He develops the film

Shows us how it is done

We watch amazed by what the water does to the magic paper

There upon it is the train

And the conductor waves once again

As if we never left.

By

Angela K. Crandall

Dedicated to my father

© 5/19/15

Regenerating

Are you shell-shocked?

Shining brightly amongst the ashes

Grass growing slowly uplifting the concrete

Bursting to be free from the confinement of earth

Listening for words sung on the outside

As a small girl skips rope

Hope  afloat in her tiny heart

A smile spread across her face til she lands on the pavement 

Tears exploding rushing down her checks

Picks up her rope

Then pulls me out of the ground up near her mouth

Blowing me out into the world

Making a wish

She Tosses my stem aside

I’ve died, but I’m still alive

To be re-born again

Many Magnificant fields shall I cover

with dreams inflicting idea’s of destiny for others

Pursued due to one wish

A single sweep

And again I grow beneath

by

Angela K. Crandall

© 6/20/15

wishes Wilted

“Living many lives

Trials and errors

Proceed

And

We bleed on repeat

Til we sew up the holes

Threaded in gold

Glitter falling from the sky

Cold upon my arms

Wiping it away

As it clings to me

Mocking me

With each fleck awakened by the storm inside

My own soul

Deflected confidence

Brought on by doubt

Inside this open heart”

by

~Angela K. Crandall

© 6/18/15

By rebel4universal2acceptance Posted in Poetry Tagged

Chances, numbers, or destiny?

I really need some dreams to come true

Without my eyes closed

Worked towards

Driven

Believed

Placed upon a shelf for you to admire

Shared

Displayed

Applauded

Desired

Like a piece of cake

Will you regret it?

Or

Savor it like wine?

Eat fast or take your time.

How do you succeed?

Achieve

All at once

Or

Slow as a snail

Will I ever find a surprise in my mail?

Some steps are easy

Others take more power

In the hours I toil

Is glory ever in sight?

Still I keep writing with all my might

Am I in the dream?

Or

Am I the dream?

I wonder if it’s real

Emotions I feel

Or brought on by myself

As they say

What kind of games does this world play?

By

Angela K. Crandall

© 6/16/15