Micah Park Biffle

   Imagination to Change    High up we take to our imagination, for the world around us is poor. Broken, an apocalyptic spectacle that teeters on the unforgivable. Hundreds of abandoned buildings stand with dark and dreary faces. Broken windows form with jagged edges. Doors hang like  loose nails upon fingers and the walls slowly cave to the unwavering season of winter.   Empty lots of concrete split by the hand of nature. Weeds sprout like appendages reaching desperately for air. Once covered in the crust of  heavy darkness they now breach with a chance of breath.   But how foreign they appear to us, to me and my brother. We have been here our entire lives, in this, dark phantasmal place. This cryptic realm of what we are told is reality. But something we have always felt lingers in our heads, this thought of a better place.    A place where people smile as you pass by. A place where the efforts of man are not st...

Alec and the Unexpected Beast  The ocean is calm, the morning fog settles thick as the tide is receded into the distance. Young Alec is out collecting seashells to bring back to his mother, so she can make decorations for the home. As Alec collects shells, he sees something poking from the earth.  It looks as if a Dorsal fin sticking from what appears to be a shallow pool of water. Alec, with his curiosity he ventures toward the object. On his way he collects shells he thinks his mom will like. He places them gently in a satchel his mother made by hand. Its hand sewn fabric is worn from the many adventures of shell collecting. You can see shells piercing the lining of the satchel.  Alec reaches near the possible dorsal fin. As he approaches he keeps his eyes on it as he places one more shell in the satchel. The cold air becomes more frigid as Alec nears the foreign object. Nearing it, he decides to place down his satchel of shells a couple yards from it. ...

Sammy and the Tear   Have you heard the story of the girl who made her own world? If not, I suggest you lay back and let your heart and eyes take to the journey.   Sammy, only eight years old grew up in a home far from the rest of the world. A place pinched between two massive mountains. Mountains so high no one has ever seen the top of them. Even on clear days the highest points vanish to the sky.   Growing up, it was only her father and mother. Both whom loved her very very much. But as Sammy grew in age, she found herself to be lonely. She could not explain this concept nor understand the feeling that rested at the bottom of her heart.   But she knew something was amiss in her heart. Reaching age five she had amassed hundreds of imaginary friends. But as time progressed in the world changed in her mind, the imaginary did not suffice as well as it did a few years before.   Sammy had asked her parents numerous times if she could have a brother or...

Fall Gloom Beauty of Gray    Death has come upon our summer days. Slain are the days of warm mornings and nights of a cool breeze. We are now upon the lips of fall, slowly consumed till we are in the bitter embrace of winter.  The once open skies are now the victims of the dreary. The frigid gasp of October and the sinking eyes of November. We are now unkindly taken by darkness before our eyes open. The grey skies glaze our souls in the dim.  Our hearts become heavy as the drizzle of sorrowed clouds weep upon our streets. Our steps become cautious as we keep weary to pools of rain. Quickly can our days become uncomfortable as the steady weeping of the sky gives no hope of silence.  But in these bleak and colorless months, there is much between the grey; the cold and frozen. There are colors that only fall can birth. Oranges that cripple a leaf but bring sight to a dying season. There are moments so close to those we love, that summer cringes in jealo...

 A Servant Heart No more I cannot tell you what shall come of me, I am no god no titan. I bare no vision of my future. I am merely a man, a human. A straggling piece of flesh left by god. A possible scab flicked from his heart. Flung to the surface of earth in either affection or the sheer pleasure to see what can be molded of such.  I speak as any other speaks, from my throat. My tongue, its guide and my lips its companion. I walk as any other, upon my feet that bare toes for balance. I see as any other, from the interpretation of my brain.  I am no different than any other who stands upon this earth. We all carry hearts, minds, and imagination. But few I believe give themselves possession of their heart. Giving it only direction in the name of others. Following with idle eyes and lips that drool with obsession to please.  Groveling for devotion though they give none to themselves. Lingering in the shadows peering with feeble hands as they call out for d...

   A Wolf and A Boy Theran found a wounded wolf on his way home from his morning education at the Lockly School of Science. A place where many great scientists and mathematicians have been birthed into the academic world and thereafter.   Theran, being the curious and scientific child he is. He stops a short distance from home to observe a wolf. Theran shows no signs of fear, his eyes address the wolf with kindness and the wolf gives no sign of danger; at least from the distance Theran is standing.   Theran continues to look at the wolf as he creeps forward with his book bag in hand. The weather is fickle with snow. Theran barley noticed the wolf as he was walking home. Its white fur blends well with the snow covered ground.   What caught Theran's eyes is the blood that is covering the wolf's face. A large stain of red covers the wolf from the snout to the left its left eye. Theran has always loved animals and has two dogs and cat at home. Which he c...

What Must I do? What shall I do to appease the crowd? What words must I fling from my lips to caress your soul? Should I write of love? What of misery and torment? Will the depiction of shadows infesting a lonely heart suffice?  Must I not touch the politics of the world or may I, but I am not of the side you desire? Does what I write bore the mind? Are my stories too bleak, do they not bring enough happiness? Are my words too bitter, too painful? Do my thoughts not consume the very air you breath? Must I break character and fall inline?  Or is what I write done well that most fear of what I write? Are my words, my thoughts too heavy for the average heart? Am I to shrouded in my words?  Should I write more clearly more precise in my endings and my beginnings? Does my grammar cause your eyes to cringe? What must I be, what must I do for you, for all?  For I feel the lack of interest build as I build my collection of stories. I can see the lethargic c...

A Boy's Shadow    It's a cold winter morning, before the sun has risen. Snow covers all inches of the neighboring surroundings. The sky is engulfed in dark feathery clouds. The air is silent as the soft trickling of snow obscures with beauty.   On this cold winter morning, a young boy, the age of thirteen wakes from his slumber. From his dream of dragons and wizards. He opens his eyes slowly, gathering himself into reality. Like picking the last few pieces of a puzzle.    Awake, he sits up in his bed, as he does, something strange rushes through his body. He loses his ability to breath, but only for a moment. His skin flushes pale as he loses breath. What ever passed through him. It felt as if it was a dark presence, something ghastly.  The boy, feels his body regain control, his lungs fill with air. A sigh of relief overcomes his chest. But as he sits, he ponders the presence he just felt. He then remember such a moment, one as exact as this; bu...

Alone among the Rain Though the rain shall pour and I may sit alone atop a bench in an empty park. I have my dreams, my imagination and the pages I hold in my hand. Pages that are to be written as I wish. To be read as I mean them to be read.  Though this be an empty moment, a shallow grave for many thoughts. I shall continue thinking, being, doing. I shall live in the rain if I must, a constant wash of my suffering. I sit between the darkness and light, as do you.  In a struggle to not lean one way more than the other and sometimes I do. Sometimes the demons grasp my ribs and pull me. Sometimes the angels hold my heart and I allow such an embrace. I know demons be thy enemy, no matter their words.  But I am but a human. A soul torn from the eyes of god set upon this earth to fight. To win my way to my everlasting love. To raise up my wings and fly or set down my feet and walk. It is I who designs the story I read. It is I who sits alone among this cold night...

                                                        From the Rift Came the Witches   The rift opens, expanding from another universe. The witches of Malgnant pour from the rift. Ripping through it like dolphins breaching water. Residual fluids from the rift drip from the witches bodies like saliva. Its black contents fall to the ground.  Creating smoke to rise as the droplets burn whatever they touch. The witches, flooding from the rift snarl and laugh maniacally as they circle me. Singing old witch song and taunting me with their presence.   I can feel my skin crawl as they come from the rift like swarms of insects. I stand almost defenseless now, for I lost my staff. Without it, I have no ability keep casting spells. Surrounded, I do my best to ward them off with what little magic I have stored away in...

An Ex and In the Head    A disturbance came from the back room, Alice placed down her book and approached the door to the room. It was a cold evening alone. It was her first night absent with her lover. They had broken off their love due to career choices.  Alice was always the one driven to work till madness of exhaustion over took her. She finds her twenties to be the opportune time to supply herself with a giving future. But her boyfriend did not. Though Alice is alone tonight, it feels no different than she was in a relationship. For she was mostly alone working anyways. Approaching the door, she could hear a rhythmic thud, as if someone is repeatedly stomping their feet upon the ground. Thud, Thud.....Thud, Thud. She placed her ear to the door and carefully listened. But when she did so, the noise ceased. She then lifted her head from the door, the noise started up again. She stepped back with a gentle touch of fright. As she looked to the door with cur...

We Used To Laugh and Be We used to have an imagination. We would string thoughts of great expansion from one moment to the next. Weaving webs of adventure to be hung between each day. Picking them at just right the moment, when they are the ripest and our hearts were the purist. Finding smiles in each step, even in the gloom of winters hold. Even the rain was welcoming in the design of thought. Never did we doubt our hearts, if pirates were the thought of the day so be it. Or an adventure to seek out the deadliest enemy and vanquish him, we did it. We once lived, acted upon our thoughts to the fullest. Conquering lands beyond our eyes and creating with our hands. Whether our designs worked or not, we moved on, like beasts through a tundra. Seeking the next place to create. We were once outstretched with branches of hope, of thought, and laughter. Branching out to the highest clouds, breaking through from the densest soils that earth can bear. Never letting anything slow us ...

Three Red Horses  Three red horses and a horizon to match. A wonderful world, a wonderful sight. But in this beauty, between the glorious light and the everglades of nature, lies something else. Something dark, something sinister. These three red horses ride to the out reach of our vision. We watch them sink the blazing haze of the sun. Becoming nothing but a fading silhouette of elegance. As we watch them fade, the world around us becomes of a fire of its own.  Unwavering anger pours upon our home. It cannot be explained, except that what is happening before us, is the consequence of natures lack of sympathy. It has been nine weeks since a drop of rain has fallen. The animals have fled, even the snakes have found homes elsewhere. We have become barren, we have lived off this land in peace. Yet here we stand, forced to face the rage of earth. It's heart has become heated and it wishes for us to cede to its wild temperament.  Our crops, gone, our hom...

A Curse and the Man of Silver Armor A few hundred-thousand feet stampede toward the castle. The rumbling of the army can be felt at the foot of the gate. Each warrior screams with mighty rage, their flags held high, which bears a red crown laced in gold, sheltering two golden lions with fiery tongues. The flag waves against the wind. This is no mere flag, it is the mortal enemy of these lands, this castle. The soldiers standing at the castle are gripped by a chill that rushes down their spine in the sight of the flag. But they show no signs of fear. Its a cold winters morning and nature is fierce today. Winds howl as snow is pelted through the air. But the thousands of warriors ignore such elements as their rage blinds them of any bitterness of nature. While others among them are of death, so they carry no nerves to be taken by the frost of winter. As they rush up the small cascade of hills that surround the castle, their stands a man in shimmering armor of silver. He stand...

A Genius of Now  He's a genius they say, for he invents, pushes and aims to change the world. To give the average the ability to touch the stars. To see our planet from the cusp of existence. How strange, how amazing, how bold this world has become. We flourish with ideas, exchange them with one another around the world in an instant. Minds of overwhelming creativity burst into the spotlight, only if they are so daring to do so; as is the genius I speak of. He has brought electricity to our feet, thrusting individuals through the streets. He has scrapped the skies with science, with rockets of mechanic brilliance. Stretching science to a new weave of design. For long we were limited in the world by the hands of our government. Only the agencies, foreign and domestic of this dazzling planet were awarded the limitless endeavor of exploration. But now, a man of intrinsic and thought defying vision, has torn down such wall. He has given back the independence of exped...

A Spy and His Love I hear her screaming from the other side of the door. Everything in my body is fighting to get to her, to keep her alive. Even if that means the sacrifice of my own life. My adrenaline exceeding what I have ever felt before. This moment is clear, smooth, with what my intent shall be. My mind indulged in rage, but my heart concealed in the allegiance to my love. I bear all this upon myself, it never should have came to this. Everything was perfect; perfect, till my simple slip up. I got carried away in the comfort of our life and never saw it coming. I should have, for the information of my last mission was never exposed to me upon completion. Whether the enemy was deceased or not, was never disclosed formally to me. I was in such a rush to walk away I was blind sided by lies. My own in command had fell into some hot water with the enemy. For what ever selfish reason, they saw the only way out, the only way to tie up all the ends, was to get rid of me. ...