Biography of Dan Medina
Just a simple paramedic/nursing student trying to stumble through life... I write when need, It calms my soul, and prepares me for the next challenge. What else can is there? I write when I'm distressed.
Dan Medina Poems
The Six Minute Poem
Her eyes sparkle, as if blessed by the brilliance of suns upon suns, emitting the purity
The Double Poem-The Double Meaning
My nightmares Never leave Find a way Such a longing
Heart And Mind-Emotion And Reason
Balance, find balance between these. Such is the story of the mind and heart. For when the heart speaks, it is the mind which chooses to listen.
Inspiration. Creation. Determination. The greatest minds. The weakest beings.
Interpret My Thoughts
To these things seen- what ode is there to memories past? of people known, of places cherished of times and cities, of oceans, of nightmares, of love, of hatred of good, of evil
What power is there in your hands? Can you discover those gifts? For some will write words without meaning, betraying the power birthed into their hands. Yet, some will discover these profound depths,
Give Me This
Patience. Time. Understanding. Grant me these this day. For I am flawed, and always will be.
It. I. One.
Struggle whispers to me constantly, Its relentless tug, Its drowning blanked. Yet, Struggle and I dance.
What does it mean to forgive? Is it a minute saying adjoined with a simple phrase? Or a profound ambition deeply rooted within this heart?
Father time, oh father time, what memories are held in your bosom And warm moments locked in your core? Those memoirs of bliss so stowed away
You And I
You and I don't get along so well. You are my greatest adversary, but without you-I cannot be.
Oh what do I call you? For you are a lingering perception. You present me with no escape, stricken with a deprivation and a void which doth pierce this soul.
Those words may be as sweet as honey, but to this girl-they strike no chord. Such lovely phrases wrapped in bliss, but which her heart cannot afford.
Oh Places. Oh these journeys walked by life. So common- yet so individual that those who traverse these paths feel so alone, so distant, so isolated, and aloof. Yet, in isolation- there is a connection.
Oh Places. Oh these journeys walked by life.
So common- yet so individual that those who traverse these paths feel
so alone, so distant, so isolated, and aloof.
Yet, in isolation- there is a connection.
A connection conceived through distress,
born by faces who stare at the depths of their own despair.
And, in this bond, there is unknown solidarity
joined by one purpose, one bond, one brokenness