My soul is lost and found quite often. I’ve been known to hold myself back or propel myself forward so fast I slide falling on my face. The point is I get back up, I may cry, but I don’t stop fighting. And I strive to continue discovering determination in spite of setbacks and naysayers. It is a road sometimes full of hope, people and help, and then again desolate. It is life, and if I can hear the music around me, it will always lift me up.
I know how to say hello, connect, but I don’t know how to stay connected. And I reach out, only to be turned out. You meet me once, evaluate, then move on. It’s the repeat of a disposable song. I’m recycled over and over as the threads hang from my shirt. Sure, you’ll meet me for coffee. I got the autopilot set to my favorite bookstore. Then you announce you overslept as I sit waiting. And when I jam, move, dance, it’s my own beat, or silence in my head as my eyes slightly shut half looking to see if anyone else shows up. I slowly sip the hot contents of my cup, looking down at my phone, scrolling to see if anyone can make me laugh.-AKC©9/26/19
It’s easy not to pick up the laundry off the floor
And let the piles lay like mountains you’ve never climbed
To allow papers to fill the trash bins with no plans to recycle
And it goes on this neglect, this allowance of lazy
But it’s not where I’ve been
It’s Instagram, editing, and working each day. A roller coaster of goals and no play
Then trying to fit in that tight wedge, to coexist, but get peace-d out instead
You’ve accepted your lot, tried to turn the tables, but they aren’t turning baby, and nobody is playing
There are judgments and haters, then maybe like two takers
Once in a while when I stand in the field they come up to watch me, bat
That’s the play that I get
~Angela K. Crandall~
Sawdust gathered on the rusted iron wheel near the wagon. I touched it’s terra-cotta handle reminiscing of the rides down hills trying to stop before we hit the next street. Years passed, many Marigolds planted in my yard, trees grew, and I cut them down never finding the fountain of youth. But I saw an elephant looking sad at the fair. I wanted to save him. That was the year my wisdom tooth pained me. When they pulled it I tried to remember the elephant, his sad eyes, and that my pain wasn’t nearly as bad.
Pain it comes and goes.
We fall and rise.
The agony of that elephant will never leave me.
Angela K. Crandall ©May 16th, 2019
Soft clouds drift by as I lay in the summer sun while the whole world comes undone. My music on my phone it sings bringing me alive. Thus hopeful I stand; begin to sway to the beat, dance out to the hope inside my head. They probably want me to give up instead. I won’t let them stomp out my passions, reactions, or satisfaction. I turn off the fear they attempt to create with all their static noise and hate. I see no boundaries but open field’s ways around their exploitations, destructive games of arrogant violence. I claim peace, rainbows of beauty, and if we all could stop the judgment, they claim only one could do, then maybe they could to end the silly battle of who’s wrong or right, and just let us all live our lives and move on. No one can choose what’s right for you. Are you a dreamer too? Or do you want a government that defines it all, one that will push you against a wall? How can we be genuinely free except inside our heads, when those offensive words are read..- in a democracy…- in a world we once called free? Will we soon only be free inside our minds? We will only know in time.
~Angela K. Crandall~
Will the storm rage
Whipping up a battle as my heart does floundering
I gasp for breath each time I see a headline.
My heart breaks for those shot.
Choked up by the lack of compassion, action, hope
Fear Explodes in our faces like bombs.
Everyone running to grasp their right
Choices are what give us liberty.
To demean, void options extinguishes our faith in free will.
Puts power in our governments’ hands you claimed you wanted less of
Yet here we are
Some doing just that
Women’s rights nixed but no way to ensure contraceptive rights, the mother’s life rights, the child once it’s born rights, or who will raise it, and one answer is not the answer. Between you and God to them isn’t the answer!
Immigrants seeking asylum, fear pain, anything to escape the hate intolerance of their country, our country with hope, yet we starve them, separate them, treat them like cattle, to us they are not human, yet we say God loves the little children, all the children of the world, Then Why!
Lost youths in sexual identities, Girls-love Girls, Boy loves Boy, Girl loves boy, loves Girl, and so on, but you judge! Love and fear rejection=Suicides, Self-Harm, when you could let love be! This is Freedom!
How is it liberty to take away that which allows us a choice?
How is that justice and freedom for all?!
How is it those who are hurting the most are those you Shun!
Oh, I ask you, how would you like this to be you!
And if we cannot put ourselves in one another’s shoes.
We are no longer humans, but monsters!
Angela K. Crandall
(This poem in no way is for me to impose my religious views on others. I believe in the right to be an atheist or any religion anyone chooses. It is to promote choice, love, democracy, and FREEDOM!)