I’ve been away typing.





Wondering if the outcome will be




Into illusions in heads bringing them to life.

Will you feel every fear she faces, hope, needs, or desire?

How about welcoming these strange events with open arms?

Or will you toss the book aside wondering why you started at all?

Will you be appalled or fall in love with the main characters wishes?

These are my questions I ask myself as I write what’s inside, put it all down, daring to be the writer I wish to be.

Angela K. Crandall



I am the warm, soft blanket of safety
A guide when all else fails
Soft sweet music filtering into the room as I watch you
Slip on a T-shirt
To falter
Backing up as I try to resist
The connections of physical contact
Afraid that when it happens
This sweetness will expire
But I let you
Wrap your arms around me
Because I’m seeking refuge
Outside of myself
So with uncertainty
I let you in.


“My umbrella’s fly without rain. What if, the storm protected me? The umbrella only keeping me, isolating me, from the cool, wet drops on my skin. What if, my only hope was, the one thing I was hiding from?”

~Angela K. Crandall~



“Can we search for sounds like we do, words, to create meaning in our life?

Birds that chirp as we awake each dawn? The moon rising as we fall into bed every night.

Evening sounds, of heaters turning on and off, an aquarium pump, or a cat’s purr.

These noises soothe us with unspoken significance, lingering comfort, or memories which calm or chill our insides out.

Let’s go now to those places of pleasure escaping from the norm through waves crashing against the shore guiding us into our dreams once more.”


Angela K. Crandall


Thankful in-spite of myself

I am always thankful for what I have

Some days the sunshine hides behind the clouds

And I don’t see the light hidden within

My emotions play havoc with what people, really think of me

And I am judged, often for needing to be reminded I am loved

This, is what depression and loneliness, look like

It’s not, about you, it’s about us

Inside our own skin, needing reassurance

That you remember

As I try to remember

That the sun will return

The rain will disappear

And again, there will be light to replace the darkness.


Angela K. Crandall



Poetry, I’ll take it raw. No rules of grammar, please. A free verse of emotions dispersed on the page, any flavor, color, or image you choose to describe let it pour out of you mind onto the page. Give me your sorrows, deep depth, where you hide, let out your dark side. If you wish your heart to bleed from your chest or to take on certain death, you may. Bear yourself naked without regret, no rules, just real, it’s how I like my people best. Keep in mind the choices you make, and the love or heartache you may create. It all comes back, hitting hard, like a witch who cast a spell upon an unknowing persons, heart. Walk on air, dream your dreams, but do not forget to hold on for the ride is cold and long.


Angela K. Crandall


By rebel4universal2acceptance Posted in Curiosity

Unspoken Reality

Where is the devotion?

Hero’s, hope for the best

That tragedies, happen, for reasons

Nothing is just chance

Because if it’s not

Then why do we suffer pain and heartbreak

Why are we filled with illusions of what we think should be?

When nothing at all exists there.

Where do we end up?

Why do we dream

If it is all in vain


Destructive notions

What are we if not dreamers?

Living in a sea

That is, trying to swallow us into the reality

Others decide, is real?


Angela K. Crandall



Lost in the idea, that death will come for you, without having to die.

You’ll merely exist, unless you rise above, all that is around you, surrounds you, engulfs you and attempts to steal your soul.

We are not here to be beaten down, but to rise!

We must gain, our abilities through cultures united, not divided, nor should you lack the ability, to see we all bleed red, but love unites us when everything else separates us.

 If we could learn, how to accept we are not all the same.

 Stop ignoring what we don’t like about each other, acknowledge you are you, and I’m me.

 Then maybe we could stop wars, poverty, and the thought that I’m better than you for what I have, who I am, my sexuality, my religion or that which may offend you.

Instead see that inside we all hold our own, truths.

Still we fight colliding on top of each other.

A rubble of chaos.



Angela K. Crandall



Deep, developed souls

May hide, in corners

Cry, silent tears and hold on to others

As if, they would lose them

Once hurt, they run away

Fight back

Bringing themselves, back into their imagination.

Let them fly

Then try to understand us

Who we are

It starts with a voice

We all use ours, differently

Open books

Loud vibrant people

Are not always outspoken

We do get rather loud

Proud, joyful, contemplative

Desiring to make change happen

It starts with a voice

We all use them differently

How do we see beyond the blur of lines defined by difference?

Why do we pull away?

Becoming people pleasers

How do we unit, but maintain our individuality?

Each person’s rights may overshadow another

How do we keep them from colliding


Love each other?

How is your god better than mine?

The right to choose no higher power?

If freedom was reality, what would be?

Who should you let define you besides yourself?

It isn’t up to anyone else.

Still, how do we collaborate without the hate?

If peace existed, we could all agree that each one of us sees things so differently.

If only we could let each other be



Until they again find themselves


Different gods, no god, and our own truths

Still we fight, kill and plunder

Say your right and I’m wrong

Where is the love in that?

Where is the peace?

Fighting over who gets more

No one knows how to help each other

Instead, we are run by corporations

Who’ve stolen our imaginations

Placing in our hands trinkets and toys

We cannot take them with us

Why do we fight against, ourselves and others

Why can’t they see

If we could just let each other be

Do not make me, you

I will not make you, me.

Accepting not only yourself

Diverse, dissimilar

Regardless of age

Various sizes, smiles, colors, owning our own selves

All of us, are human

So why does the human race refuse to, unit?

If we dislike, hate

Why do we create it?


Angela K. Crandall


An unfulfilled need

Should you face your fear

If it could change

Your course or destination

If all you know might disappear


Would you lose or would you win?

How would you begin again?

Do you move forward or walk away

Into another same old day.

Is the risk worth the danger?

What principles do you apply?

Do you let this opportunity pass you by

Each moment that was given

Do you take it?

Or let it fall to the floor

An unread page

Leaving it alone



Forever left in anguish

Of what could have been

Who you might be

If only you’d turned that page with me.


Angela K. Crandall