Hi, My name is Micah Park Biffle, I am the author of ' A Man's Traveled Heart,' I am a Veteran who found in understanding of my self through writing. I consider myself an architect of the imagination. Here you will see my creations come to life. My short stories, poems, my thoughts, and a little touch of my life. (I AM SLOWLY MOVING OF BLOGGER< FOR NEW STORIES PLEASE CLICK THE "MEDIUM" LINK TO THE LEFT)
Writer's Block Will End Me
I do not know where to go
where to take my thoughts my flow
A barren river has a deeper soul
I have dream't but cannot see
like ghosts in day light my words are unseen
my fingers steady but my heart quakes
I don't know if I'll ever be awake
my mind teeters on the swirling of a loose feather
I search with great intent among the coldest weather
but every forest every path,
I come up empty handed, is this the devils wrath
The dripping of words is usually my move
But the morning light has me a skewed
My empty pockets without wage
ravages my thoughts like demons unholy rampage
I have no other no spark
My muse I have torn apart
What am I but just a man
I am nothing special nothing grand
For true words would never be lost
I am ill to my thoughts, exhaust
Finding distraction and reason to sleep
But nightmares quill me deep
I skirt the stresses of permanent coma
and worry of alley ways to be my Jonah.
What things have kept you from your goals?
Thank you for reading!
Like my original work, want to take your soul for an adventure?! Then Grab yourself a copy of my book, you won't be displeased.
A Wanderers Inn I have been traveling for thirty days. My horses are weak and I thirst dearly for water. My belly aches as hunger constricts my gut. I am fearful of death in such an unsuitable way. I have always seen myself dying in daring act of life. Be it in war or the saving of a child. Or maybe, even in the defeat of a dragon as I get one last blow with my blade before it strikes me down and it falls to its death beside me. Feeling its last breath of heat roll over my body as our eyes see only our fading souls. I have always thought my death would be glorious. Yet here I am, traveling alone with no more rations, nor water. My horses no longer walk with fervor but lackadaisical steps. And so I pray to find shelter before the cold takes us. Before the empty plains of barren trees and darkness finds us. I wish not to be detritus before my days. Decaying slowly to the maggots as my body lays helpless upon the earth. Becoming a gruesome vision of what lies inside. B
Not fair? You know what's not fair, that eight year old boy who who was diagnosed with cancer on his eighth birthday. The mom that has to watch her child slowly die as she prays he will survive; only to watch him take his last breath. After all those sleepless nights of pain staking chemo. All those days of watching their child go from a bundle of energy, to a pale boy of sickness. -- Life's not fair? You know what's no fair, going to work to find out you are being fired because someone holds a minority that you don't. Fired, because your skin complexion is not the right color and they need more of the other. Being fired, because the company needs more of a certain set of sex organs to help out "equality." -- Your life's not fair? You know what's not fair, those 200,000+ men who went to help eradicate the evils of Hitler. Only to die less than hundred feet onto the shore. All those sons taken from their families, all those father and mo