Category Archives: prose

#HAWMC #TBI  #Writing  ” I write, therefore I am.”   by Janice Tindle 

The WEGOHEALTH Activist 30-Day Writing Challenge, Day 20  “What has been the highlight of your health activist journey? We want to hear all about it, perhaps a conference, a podcast or meeting a fellow HA. What made this experience so … Continue reading

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Dear Lord, Please Grant Me Patience      by Janice Tindle

Please grant me patience to deal with my brain, Because the world goes by like a loud freight train. Please grant me patience to deal with my heart, Because I can never seem to finish the projects that I start. … Continue reading

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This Blog just received a WEGO Nomination! 

This blog was nominated for Best In Show: Blog! Whoo Hoo! It IS an honor to be nominated! Thank you! Here’s the description:  “Whose blog do you absolutely love? Their writing is exceptional, their “voice” admirable, and their writing is … Continue reading

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 The Power Of Life by Janice Tindle 

The shadows cross at midnight and I am alone again, Behind a curtain of umbiguity I wait for  the sunrise. The treacherous hours where my soul cries while the dewdrops form – And quench all new life from the parched … Continue reading

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The Little Diva  by Janice Tindle

The little girl sat quietly at the window, her puppy sleeping peacefully in her lap. A phonograph record was playing loudly an opera by Verdi.  She closed her eyes and envisioned  herself as the soprano in a beautiful red velvet … Continue reading

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The Mosiac Of The Broken Mind          by Janice Tindle 

He asked me to take his hand and follow him into the deep, dark cavern of his soul. I hesitated, but he was alone and afraid to take the journey, so I paid the toll.  I saw the valleys of … Continue reading

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I love hugs    by Janice Tindle

  

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Danielle   by Janice Tindle

 She was  Woman.  Utterly and completely beautiful.  From the deepest of her being,  To the hidden corners of her soul, She was  Rare.  Like a red diamond that endlessly glistens,   Saturating the senses and enveloping the heart so that … Continue reading

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Looking Back   by Janice Tindle

I’d like go back to Before John Lennon was gunned down,  Before the Beatles broke up,  Before ticket prices were a days wage,  Before record stores went under,  And there was only one Main St.  I’d like to go back … Continue reading

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You Don’t Know Me     by Janice Tindle

Where were you when I cried out in pain? Where were you when the heartache began? When the world moved so fast that the images were just a mass of hues And the noise made my ears bleed? Where were … Continue reading

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Beyond Hope  by Janice Tindle 

In the dark, behind the presence of emotion, Absolute stillness and unrelenting silence, I am rhythmically breathing. I am not lost. Even though the darkness envelopes me, I am here. Believe me, your shame is not mine. I am steadfast. … Continue reading

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A Message For Those Who Have A Life Changing Disability   by Janice Tindle

“I don’t think I’ll ever be happy again,” is the worst thing you can say to yourself. You WILL be happy again. Tell yourself that. You will. I promise. Maybe not all day long, but you’ll have moments. Everyday, do … Continue reading

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To Be Still                             by Janice Tindle 

Oh! To be still- To lay down and not feel the war within, The muscles, like revving engines,  Raring to go, ramping, ramping, and off!  Off into a race to nowhere.  The twists and turns, the dangerous road of pharma,  … Continue reading

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Dystonic Disaster          by Janice Tindle

Spasm rocks the chair That hits the wall That knocks down the picture  That hits the table That shatters the glass  That flips the coffee cup That crashes to the floor That stains the carpet In the house that Jack … Continue reading

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Dystonic Jerk /Written by Janice Tindle

I reach for a glass Arm extended, fingers twitch Crash. The shards scatter I reach for a broom Searing hot poker of pain I tell myself I wasn’t really that thirsty.

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War On Dystonia /Written by Janice Tindle

Brain spasm. Brutal. As if trying to extract its juice. Violent contortions. Judge me not, for I am a warrior.

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Pia /Written by JaniceTindle

High above a lake of beauty, Is an Osprey nest, with a post for sentry duty, Inside were laid three speckled eggs, That soon became three adorable Ospreys. Their parents were exceptional feeders, Rachel and Steve, a pair of great … Continue reading

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Wray; The West End Eagle /Written by Janice Tindle

She came and left like the wind, She would circle high, swoop and descend, In a whirlwind she would appear, She could be far, yet in an instant, near. Under sunny skies, she sat on eggs, Under mist and fog, … Continue reading

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Jesus Knows Me Well    by Janice Tindle

In my solitude I pray, The pain is so crippling, so I lay, The softness of the sheets touch my skin, There is an excruciating fire that burns from within. Jesus knows me well. To his Father I pray, So … Continue reading

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The Invisible Wheelchair /Written by Janice Tindle

You’ve seen it going passed by you at a snail’s pace, You’ve snarled your lip at the humped over state, You didn’t see her face, for around her, an air of despair, You never ever acknowledge the invisible wheelchair. The … Continue reading

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The Doll In The Box /Written by Janice Tindle

When I was a little girl, my Grandma had a China doll she kept in a box in the living room closet. It was a gift from her younger brother, Joseph. He had bought the doll when he was a … Continue reading

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Tender Tears /Written by Janice Tindle

They sat on the sofa, side by side, holding hands. “I miss you”, she said. “I miss you too”, she answered. Their heads bowed together, as the tears ran down the two woman’s faces. “We have to find a way … Continue reading

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The One Legged Visitor /Written by Janice Tindle

The front door was open and it framed my view as he came on crutches up the walk. My cousin Carol was behind him. He wore a green dress uniform. I had never seen a real soldier before today. His … Continue reading

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A Singer’s Lament /Written by Janice Tindle

I miss singing. When I was growing up, my mother, a professional soloist, would play arias and the standards. My grandfather, a gregarious Italian who lived next door, would play opera, jazz, blues, swing, big band and all the crooners. … Continue reading

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Peace, Liberty and…. Morgan /Written by Janice Tindle

In all our thirty years of marriage, we never had a complete bedroom suite. It was almost complete, but the bedroom was a bit of ‘this and that’ from the family, pieces I liked very much, but I was ready … Continue reading

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