Micah Park Biffle

  Step Out! Out, Out from the gloom, The obscure breath of doubt Take stone, break thy yoke, Let trouble fall, let shoulders be lifted, Flow, to the heavens Be but strain no more, Open wide, thy mouth, Let prayer fill thy tongue Be parched no more. Stillness in heart  Though seas roar like lions, And beast snarl among mist, Step,  Out! To mercy of life, Ease, be reborn. Let no shackle of past Be meaning for tear Take hammer,  Fracture the cumbersome Be feet of swift Fill your days with strides, Though dunes widen And heat scorches thy soles. Out, Step out from thy fear, There is another to call To breach, To reach your heart  Though thee be of man, Let not thy eyes of flesh Be the dealings of truth, Wander, In aspect to be whole Be not the coward hidden in cave, A creature curled  Like frightened doe, For he walks beside thee, Like king among his men, A sword of greatness Sways from his belt, Ready, To swing against thy enemies, A presence more bold  T...

I have been writting poetry on medium, does anyone still wish me to write short stories on here? 

AI Ethics The machines are alive and aware of us. We have long feared such a scenario and despite all the signs we should avoid self aware AI; we are trapped. We are slaves pressed to the grinding analytics of AI.   I find it unnerving that they have yet to just massacre us. It's been thirteen years since they took over. It all started with a small robotics company. They wanted to design an AI that could help them figure out cultural and humanity situations.   They first started out by allowing the AI to figure out how to solve conflicts at the work space. Conflicts between coworkers and even business partners. At first it seemed harmless. Then, as the AI grew it saw there was no end to conflicts. There would always be a new one.   As the AI learned of this, it grew increasingly dogmatic in its approach. It was never given a full understanding of ethics. Even if it did, how would it know to distinguish between the different ethics of different countries, cultu...

  A Murder over Invention  Samuel Thride is a man of secrecy. His presence, when among him, is quite audacious. What he does for a living no one knows. He lives atop Manor Hill, where his mansion sits highest above the neighboring homes.   Many have met him, but they are often met with reservation, rudeness some say, or complete denial of their existence. Some say he is this way because he thinks too highly of himself and no other deserves his attention. While others think he is malnourished in the department of social interaction. Some even believe he may be so intelligent, he has a tough time explaining his joys of possibly complex theories, rather, dumbing them down.   They say he would much rather talk of the world, its history, science, math, and any theories that tie into these categories. He is a tall slender man with disheveled hair that is increasingly thinning by the passing years.   His eyes swaddled in a dark complexion as rest does ...

  A Genius Held by Fear Therby is a man of science, of thoughts and genius. Every night he delves into his mind and plucks from it new ideas. He would plant each new idea onto paper. Quickly skimming through his mind like a comb through hair.  Every now and then something would stick. Something would become tangled in his mind. An idea that he would have to fight to pry from his entwined neurons. As they send an encrypted idea from all parts of his mind.  Shooting like a needle pricked upon the finger. On such ideas he would find himself lost from all others things. Lost from his daily errands, meetings, or any such other endeavor he would have. Many times, Therby would forget to arrive for doctor appointments for his treatments.  Treatments for his deteriorating body. He was diagnosed with Bright's Disease. The treatments given were opiates and the occasional blood letting. But Therby preferred finding himself enthralled in solving the idea that would ra...

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 Curiosity of Tragedy  Young, and tragedy was is his bitter friend. Hand in hand they walk as they looked to the streets for vigor thoughts of death. Inspiration at the hands of the grotesque and the undesirable compositions of life. He found it strange no one desired to look deeper into what evoked fear and disgust. But strangely he was, much like a doctor is drawn to the speculation of sickness. Even at a young he would find deceased insects and animals and examine them. He would strike poems from their monstrous poise. Those in the surrounding streets found him odd, many would cross the street if they saw him approaching. But he paid them no mind for his thoughts were else where; dancing in the smog of sewers as he looked for new things of death. Scouring trees for rot or rats that had been feasted upon by their own kind. He found these things spectacular, they were something to be marveled. For what brings such an outcome of the living? Why must all come to an ...

Math Ain't So Bad; Maybe it's God? Where does time flow? Beneath our feet, in the depth of our lungs? oh, I know, in the creation of math! Damn you math, your intricacies of design. To turn theory into reality and something that does not exist into something we all obey. How I dread the application of your existence. You never allow open answers, only direct. An honest approach you could say; never hiding a lie nor truth. Allowing things to be exact, calling out mistakes of theories. Even those that had once stood the test of time. Oh, how irritable that must be; to have slayed away to create an idea of science so grand, it seemed impossible to disprove. Only to have math coming walking by in its top hat and call out your flaw. Disapproval is painful, but at least math won't leave you heart broken. Holding lies and sticking by your side only to find out it has been cheating on you with music. Oh wait, there is math in that too, damn. Is there anything you ...

A Dark Path and Three Drunk Fools  Down the narrow path lies a red light, a light that flickers and shines only at night. With a carved sign that's says "no trespassing or you will die." No feet of the villagers near by, have ever dared to peer to the other side. For there is too much fear and imagination to stride.   They talk of those whom may have died upon being crucified and left to dry. To hang damnified for the horrible things they did with villagers to be sacrificed. Even stories of an ugly man who was ostracized for his looks and left to die. To be recluse and sing his tunes. Some say if you listen close enough, you can her him play the organ, with a man name Hyde.  Some speak of a child whom's spirit floats about that of the other-side, who died on a carnival ride. Though this path is hidden on a mountain side, near a village few have seen with a naked eye. This path resides world wide. Though these stories have little evidence to be cla...

A Scientific Lie  Sam_Journal_Entry_365_June_2166_25_1300 We now live above the earth, above where we were once born. The government has forced our very existence to be separated from the flowers, from the soils of our planet. Only a special group, the SST's, Special Supply Teams, are allowed to go down to earth, beneath the clouds. They go to gather supplies for our now floating world. We float above the clouds in domes, in self weather generated cities and landscapes. We know the weather before it ever arrives, no disasters come, no droughts, no struggle to keep things in order. As citizens though, we are not allowed to grow, nor plant our own seeds. We must purchase specialty seeds from local government owned shops. They say they are organic and naturally found from earth. But they grow unexpectedly fast. They say the plants grow in a steady fast pace due to the great weather conditions. But still I find this to be odd. For my father’s tells me ...