Scattered thoughts

My dreams rescue me from negativity
They bring forth comfort in the company that resides there
An immense fortress of peace in a kingdom all of my own
Stillness, serenity, peaceful prayer in which I sit
My inner goddess
When I know I’ve said yes to those I should have said no to
My open heart is meant to be a treasure, but some see it as liberal trash
No one speaks of what I’ve done right
I don’t live within my past
It may be a piece of me
But it’s completed, done, over.
I’ve moved forward with the value of those who wish me success
Whose hearts I hope are open to mine as I allow them to keep their hearts open to their own Ideas I often can’t grasp.
I ask merely for tolerance
I won’t change my love for all people, LGBT, and various religions
I won’t promote the hate you prescribe
I’ll vote my way
But I do my best not to point fingers even though I don’t believe your way
I’ll keep being me
In spite of those who want to see me fall
I push myself not to dive into that hole I sometimes wish I could fill with sand
I find comfort in the castle I’ve created when I cannot walk outside my door and feel free.
Yes, I know at times-I’ll only be able to depend on me.
Why though should it give you the right to push me into seclusion
When I turn the other cheek to make me feel as if I’ve wronged you
And in the past, I would have fought you
Instead, I kept quiet.
My heart will heal, I’ll do my best not to poke the bear
Life will go on.
Still, how is one tolerant of intolerance?
It makes me hurt, sad, and angry
And so this is where I go
To my dreams to my computer to my poetry to escape
My comfort from which you cannot yet take.
My illusions that are so safe they wrap me in tranquility.
And do I care if you judge me for them-being unreal?
Go ahead, judge away because they keep me alive every day.
And I’d rather be here, exist to complete my destiny.
If there is a reason for you, there’s a reason for me.
I don’t understand why you don’t appreciate beauty in diversity.
Angela K. Crandall


Give yourself Love

It’s been a while since I wrote a poem for book#2 and pun intended pain has made me write to. And all the anguish you give me helps me burn this fire. Isn’t that something to admire? Even though I want to break down, lie down, and sometimes die; I don’t know how I find a way, to stand back up instead of saying goodbye, but I do pull myself up out of my blue, and I do it for me, not for you.


What used to be.

I miss you
Being understood
The light you turned on within me
Our friendship growing brighter
Now everyone who understands is far away
I’m told no one has to understand
And I wonder how they
The others who claim this is Okay survive
As I try to be bipartisan but still get burned
While the world turns and hate thrives
And those that love me back the best are furry creatures who don’t answer back
Being denied what you need is allowable
When you are told you allow it, but instead turn away
Still shunned
And no matter how used to it I try to get
The more I want to crawl into a hole
To not exist at all
But I can’t do it
I wish I could
If I were brave, I wouldn’t exist at all
And they may care for a day
To look as if empathy lives in their hearts
But it’s only a show
From start to finish
As they hold the glasses high
I choose to endure the suffering
I choose to cry
I decide to keep going
And I sometimes wonder why.
Angela K. Crandall

Joy in the dark.

In spite of the demons, she danced
Swaying to the sweet song of the forest silhouettes
Sleeping in her heart but her soul bouncing to the beat
letting the bats fly making her complete
Accepting the dark as they have the light
Only for this one Halloween night.
Angela K. Crandall


I feel like an invisible ghost, ready to vanish.
Extinguished by my negative thoughts.
Transparent even though I am already exposed
Words, spilling as I stumble over hope.
Butterflies, repeating fluttering.
Will it start again as it once was?
Can I bring you back to me?
As I stand, watching you focus on the game in your hand.
~Angela K. Crandall~


I want to place myself in safety,
A refuge of my own.
One with music, food, books, and a pen, and paper with which I’ll roam.
Perhaps I’ll take a backpack full of essential things, then all I’ll need is a place warm, and dry for me and my things.
Once I wanted a cabin far away in the woods. Then I thought I’d be fine in a hotel even if it were in L.A.because the view is spectacular. Maybe New York, if I could keep the peace within, channel my inner balance, but then again the smell of a campfire, draws me into its arms, but I don’t like tents or the hard ground on my back.
So the cabin won out, but it’s always only in my mind.
One time I thought it was stolen
That a moment would taint it, but it hasn’t.
So I’ll be here, in the quiet woods, and perhaps a lake to walk upon the shore, seek the sunrise to sunset. I’ll take it all in, and you can’t take that, no you can’t. There are no mind police yet.

Angela K. Crandall