Hi, My name is Micah Park Biffle, I am the author of ' A Man's Traveled Heart,' I am a Veteran who found his way back 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 call to you my love, from the highest tower from the highest point. Not even the moon is out of my reach. My heart swells with love for you, to feel your lips against my lonely soul. To perch ourselves in the dead of night among the stars.
To gasp at the sight of your body and behold what lies within.
To savor you like ripe fruit, freshly plucked in detailed accord upon a summer breeze. To taste you in the bitter fall, to dance with you by a blazing flame beneath the falling snow. I wish us to gaze into empty blue skies, to lay with fingers laced, whispering our affections.
To beseech your heart beneath the wings of cupid. To sheathe your finger in the forever. To birth what ever desires you may yearn for. To hold you to the sun and let you sip upon its warmth as we guide ourselves through this wilderness of love.
I pray for us to never go without the thought of the other. Even through the waves of anger, to grow fonder from such battles. You are prefect, though I know I am not. I shall give you my all, I shall share my shoulders. I shall burden your pain as well as mine.
I shall leave you with no craving of needs. Let me be your provider, an extension of life. Let me feed you my desire to care for you. From here, to the distant planets we have yet to name. Let us be free in our love and bind ourselves no more to the shallow seas of sole. Let us become a vision of Arcadia, let us find harmony in our breaths.
I lend you my hand and offer only the finest, and though our finest may be another mans dullness. It will be ours, with no memories that will leave us crippled. I give you my sword, my shield. Lend yourself in passion, protect yourself from the cold weaves of lust. I am truly a man in the embrace of your entirety. I have melded myself to your winds and I hear your voice as if it is mine.
Oh love, let us travel in this fading of time, till your bones become to frail to bend.
What words will you tell the one you love on this Valentines day?!
Here, in front of me stands a mirror. Its gleams with pristine cleanliness as I drag my eyes faithfully along its edges. Wondering, what purpose does it truly have, is this but another view of what I am?
Searching Is Not The Answer
I retract my eyes from its edges allowing sullied breath to sink into my lungs. I release this breath with an odd sense of curiosity as breath settles upon the mirror. Now, with breath upon this mirror, I watch, as it fades almost instantly. As if disdained upon my presence. Only to leave in an almost translucent outline upon the glass.
And again, my thoughts wander upon the condensation of my breath. And in watching it fade, I ponder, with intellectual eagerness , am I but not a breath from the universe, from God? Slowly fading upon the reaction of molecules and the designers final stroke of the brush.
Am I not but a reflection of what another has drawn, for what naturalism can create such perfection mixed with such disaster? Playing upon the good and bad…
The Scar of War And His Suicide To Escape It
He returned with a heavy heart. With a fierce storm raging in rain, thunder, and dark clouds. Memories of war collided beneath his chest. His lost brothers he could feel in the very bones of his soul. Nothing felt the same in this place he called home.
No words could describe the surmountable anguish that tore each second at his mind, creating a vast chasm. Loneliness slowly consumed him. Leaving him branded as a mental case, coming unhinged to reality. Drowning in the constant flavor of hops. Leaving no moment to be sober. Covering the storm with another, that if the fog became to thick to see, then his pain did not exist.
Flooded with anxiety of what he left behind in the chaos of war. He could not escape the nagging of all the thoughts he prayed to forget. Tarnished he felt, guilty, burdened, he felt far from a hero. Though each friend, each member of his family embraced him as one.
And on each night of his return, he sat at that foot o…
A Moment In the Middle East
A scorching sun canvasses the grounds. Flesh becomes its victim, sweat pours with no end. As if envious in seeking air. Eyes watchful of the distant, heads on a swivel. Hearts race in anticipation, crowds walk as adrenaline pumps.
The smell of gun powder stifles the nose. Tight grips upon steel, chambered brass. Sands flood the lungs, faces smeared in exhaustion. Thirst grips the throat, thoughts of home fumble the mind. Focus, focus, focus.
Distant shots, a setting sun, strange beauty comes to life. Barren lands seeping in anger, pointless in attempt to save. Lost, young, raged in empty hours of this land. Brothers shoulder to shoulder, but for what?
The eyes become useless as night arises from its chambers. Stars shower the blackened sky, the moon flaunts its elegance. Eerie becomes the view, shadows dancing between street lights and stars. Wind gusts with a warm kiss.
Now hues of green become the view. Skewed in perception but eyes trained in this moment…