Micah Park Biffle

   Darlene's Summer Heat   Ninety-five degrees and the humidity is sticking like spit. Darlene's fan is quickly spinning, but its motor gives out a spurt and ceases. A short grinding of gears as if a final scream before death. Darlene, held in the grasp of copious sweat rolls slightly over to the fan from her bed. She slaps the fan in hopes it will jolt it to life.  But there is no such luck. With her exhausted body from the relentless beating of the sun, she slowly sits up while uttering obscenities beneath her breath.  "Damn, fan...why in hell would you quick working now? You bastard, you pointless machine, now you're nothing more but a damn paper weight."   Sitting up in her bed, she slides her hands through her ruby hair and guides it to rest behind her head. With her hair behind her, she looks around her room as the sun blazes through the thin white curtains. "Why did I not buy darker curtains, this place is hell during the summer?"   ...

Keyboard Justice   He sits snarling at his monitor as he reads out his comment. His skin boils with rage as he commits his virtuous act. "A few more changes and it this should shut him down!" he says as his glasses sit snug against his face reflecting the luminous screen.    He scans through his comment a few more times before submitting his textile thought ensnared in outrage. His greasy hair hanging well beyond his shoulders. His skin glistening like spilled oils beneath moonlight.   His fingers tapping gently upon his keyboards as he reads his words as is Shakespeare himself has written them. Carefully examining each and every word. "I'll show him, that bigoted asshole. I'll tear him a new one. His Nazi driven words shall be thoroughly criticized out of existence.  His hate speech drivels with such endless ism's. How dare he be given a platform!"  His eyes piercing into every word of his comment as if to frighten it into truth. His right ...

  A Fading Wound,  A Warrior's Death   Old, most just pass him by. An era past, forgotten and left behind. The world spins without patience, without delay. Time, a ever ending creation lasting beyond death. And he sits, alone, atop a park bench.   Carefully listening to the chirping of birds. The soft distant chatter of passersby, as he feels the echoes of his fading thoughts. Memories long held in horror, visions of massacre, of impending demise at the eyes of the enemy.   His grey hair, covered in an old black hat, labeled with golden words. Sorrow rolls about his heart like a tumbling stone to the splitting of earth. He remains the last of those he loves, those brothers he held dear, in time of crises, in time of peace.   Friends that felt as he did, friends that knew of his scars. They too shared such wounds, silent and those of the visible. Shadows of anguish shower his face, his sinking skin slowly reaching to earth. A grave be his ...

An Audience Revolt    The audience has spoke and they are outraged. They have grown irate of the noxious lies. The endless attempts to run them dry, playing the audience as if fools. To bury them to the catacombs of fees, just to appease the actors. The famous seats of the world.  And now, the audience stands, booing with great indignation. Baring anger in hand, "Tear down the stage. Our lives mean nothing to them. They have taken us for jesters, for pockets to line theirs."  "They have taken from us our freedom to be. Slowly suffocating us with their entertainment to dull our senses. Keeping us in the dark as if the sun is no more."  The audience gathers in arms as the actors stare as if appalled. Blinded they say, for they wish only the audience pleasure. The angry crowd responds,  "But where does the pleasure come when not even the average can watch? Where does the fun live, when not even our hearts can bear a single day. What is our ent...

A Family Day  It's another beautiful day with the Morins family. Their usually weekend adventures has just begun. The sun is high, the birds are chirping from the edge of the woods. Everything is in perfect condition for the perfect family outing. The daughter of the family, Molly, is swinging between her parents as they hold her up. She counts how many seconds she stays in the air. "1...2....3.." Every time she lands on the ground a great big smile passes over her face. Followed by a contagious giggle that is accompanied by the smiles of her parents. Today she woke up excited, for today is the first time she gets to go to the zoo. The zoo, being only a few blocks down the road they decided to walk there as a family. They are all anticipating a wonderful day. Spending time with each other is the best thing they enjoy. Nothing beats the goofy moments between the three of them. Everything is excellent toady. Everyone is happy, the sun is coasting gently abov...

 The Blue Wolves Are Coming  Tonight I write from my friends chambers in haste. The dogs are barking and the whistles are blowing. The fog has settled densely upon the streets, allowing me temporary escape. It will only be a few moments before I am ravaged by the jaws of canines or thrown to the ground and shackled for the remainder of my life.  I am part of a secret society, some call us "resistors," we merely call our self free people. We are freethinkers, we have been watching the world degrade into a child's toy. Adults no longer observe their emotions and take thought. Rather, they act now with a stasis of belligerent obsession of identity.  Calloused to logic they bore tunnels of fantasy building lies that suit their tongues. Blaming their surroundings for their harsh reality. They bring no responsibility to their character, but force the world to shift as they do.  Many of us now clothed in the color of red, to signify they are workers of pri...

Technology, A Servant To The Corrupt  We are no longer the individuals we used to be. We no longer have the unique ability to be as we want. We were once free thinking and free moving, now we are the products of our creations. We are pawns to the ever growing etymology of technology. It all started with mobile phones, the ability to call from where ever you are. Then came the attachment of a sim card. The ability for satellites to track calls for the card to store information. After that, came the use of the internet from our hands. A click of the button and a world of information and connection is at the tip of your fingers. As that progressed we became overwhelmed with information. No one could keep up, time became distorted because of the swelling of information. Technology allowed the gushing of information to be distrusted by anyone. Any fool could spew their ideas to the world, like minded people would cling to it. At first it was fascinating, freeing, until the f...

Our Freedom Here we stand, at the jaws of tyranny; brave, bold, ready to sacrifice. To free our souls from the binds of royal rule. Too long have we been the sheep of the foul, of the fraudulent virtues of power. Ceding our work for the masses. Oppressing us from the very air we breathe. Forcing us to the belly of silence as we become slaves to rulers, to greed. But now, now we are together, arm in arm, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand. Ready to give it our all. To give our destitute souls the chance to live. To bring each man and woman a chance to change their life. To breed their dreams as they please and build a family of moral ground. We shall fight for this land and give our people hope. Putting the glory of our god before us and the love our family in our hearts. Our people, are our family. We must be vigilant today, for the enemy seeks to devour us. To force us to our impaling, to sever our heads from our bodies. Fear is their strategy, but heart is ours. For the ...

The Obscene Reality of Today  "War is at the edge, I can feel us all standing there." He says as he looks to the stars as a pink cloud floods the night. He feels the world becoming torn. Splitting on behalf of the mentally immature, nothing seems hopeful. He watches as the news marks the world as chaos. Bleeding words of worry an anxious doubt of any peace. "War is inevitable." He shutters as he stares back from the sky to his flickering screen.  "I can feel the hostility in the air, its thick, like the humidity of the south." He wipes his lips of his drink.  His eyes glued with anxiety as the TV spews with relentless hate and gives bitterness to the mere existence of human kind. He listens and listens and all hope becomes constricted like a kink in a hose; waiting to burst. His throat tenses as he fills his mind with the drivel of the narcissistic ignorant. Photos of the medias nemesis display with vile rubbish as the truth is disto...

The Praise of The Wicked He has lied for so long it has become his truth. Creating power, creating wealth with such a tongue of deceit. Smirking between the acts of his crimes as he slides through the bars. Yet, he is praised for his so called gracious endeavors and his accolades of triumphant change. Slithering beneath the grass he has grasped the ankles of his followers, sinking his fangs with precision. Poisoning their thoughts, their freedom with hypocrisy, fraud, and the keen ability of a silver tongue. Upon his pedestal he walks with a darkly sheen, as if something unworldly. As he ensnares the weak with bountiful dishonesty. With deceptive hatred toward his enemy, using the feeble as fodder for his tricks. His inevitable plan to be sly, powerful, and filthy to world, but be lacking in consequence.  Engaging in the atrocious behind closed doors. Generating his wealth through the arms of our enemies and giving no heed to the fallout that shall be. He lives i...

Click here for more my book A Man's Traveled Heart Curtains Of Deceit  The curtains rose and music played. The crowd swelled with anticipation and stood in a quick fever of applause. The scene before them was magical;  masks, magicians, singers, and dancers, packed the stage with such enchantment. It was a spectacle of such marvel, flames and lights waltzed with such brilliance. The mashing of such mystical performance could almost be tasted. It had a sense of living, as if what was being watched was more than what was being seen. Like a droplet of illusion had been placed upon the tongue. The breeze of phenomenon occupied the eyes of the audience. Not a single moment of dissatisfaction tainted their posture, they were enthralled beyond the absolute. Cheers roared, tears poured with pure elation of satisfaction to the wonder before them. Some, even joined in the dances from the seats of their view. Holding hands, minding no tale of deceit from any they danced besi...