Micah Park Biffle

Our Failed Sails  We spent late nights, with the journey of conversation. Spilling our thoughts to wild fantasies of our imagination. Casting ideas of beings beyond our earth, thoughts that stars are stories yet to be told. We felt our hearts beat in synchronicity with each kiss, each moment.  Our eyes, flared to the wonders of our souls. Gems we called them, as they glimmered in the reflection of our smiles. Our lips caressed each other, concealing our skin the admiration of loving intoxication. We found ourselves lost in the bliss of each other’s spirit. Like addicts to drugs, we could never get enough. Always wanting more, but never, greedy in the need of the other. Our fingers laced, waltzing in the dust of the midnight sky. Wandering the late streets, making silly faces beneath the lights of First AVE. Summers were our best, adventure was found at every turn. Seeking the breath taking, views that leaves one grateful for the mere ability to see.  ...

Swing From The Willow  Swing from the Willow, find peace in the rain be no stranger to silence. The wolves prowl but you bleed with no fear. The roots from which you stand are yours, embraced, entwined in the essence of your breath. Your eyes have seen the darkness. You have felt the presence of the unholy, of wretched suffering. You have walked amidst the narrow of death and life, living between in a hollowed bosom. But now you have bound yourself to the exploration of ego. You leave no tears to fall in vein. Your soul reaches heaven, as does it hell. But you are no fool to the devil, and are no virtue to heaven. Your lips are turned inward, only to uncoil in speech that you find worthy. Your eyes give you sight no more to the bleak. The haze that follows you no longer blurs your vision to its ever anxious dwelling. You breathe with purpose and give no moment without grace. And though you are wrapped in the unfortunate of scars, you praise them each in their own way....

A Lie of Weakness There, at the edge of the dirt road upon this solitary night; she stood, silent, gazing toward my vacant existence. She stood beneath a willow tree, that held itself at the foot of the river. And there, our eyes met with fervor. Hers, shimmered like the lighting of the moon, cold, alone, but mesmerizing. And as I stared, I was drawn, like that of new found doe to its mother. I craved her like the succulence of fruit. I felt her presence pull me like gravity, waving me in, towing me out, like that of an evening tide. And as I approached, I felt this brisk summer night, begin to caress me with warmth. A dry warmth I should say, a warmth, I had never felt before. With each approaching step I became deeply enthralled in this curiosity of what forges such heat, on such a raw bliss-less twilight.  And as I loomed my hollowed bones toward her, the warmth began to rise. Sweat seeped from my brow, but I pay it no mind. For it deserved no regard of mine, f...

Check me out on  Twitter Become The Kingdom You Seek Beat, beat, beat, let your heart rage. Let your blood rush through like a howling flood. Let no dam be formed in the veins of your flesh, for much is set for you to gain. You are a spore of your dreams, cease not to the flames of hell. Let no demon cling to the reaches of your eyes. Be still in the ever wavering oceans. Crash upon your shore, conquer the sickness that wishes to devour the dwellings of your soul. Raise your shield against the dragons, defend against their flaming breath. Your blades purpose is their heart. Rush them in the midst of their exhausted flames. Peel back their scales, drive your blade through their dense ribs, puncture their blackened hearts. Let their impure blood seep from their bowls and die to the oxygen of life. Signal your smoke, let your army rise upon the imprints of your steps. See the horizon before you become your kingdom. Goad the growth of your needs and give in the prosperity of yo...

The Death Of The Impolite Ardinal, Upon his arrival places his bags by the concierge desk. His eyes scanning the hotel with an utmost pretentious glare. Seeking deficiencies in the hotels composition, snarling under his breath at the most minuscule defects. A mere bulb is out in the chandelier that hangs with a magnificent purity of architecture. It hangs between the stairs of the hotel that leads upstairs as if open arms. His chest puffing in an appalling position. His hand tapping at his chin in command to find what else could be wrong in this place. He sniffs the air as if smelling a rose. Upon the ingestion of air, he smells a slight pungent smell, a smell of old cigarette smoke mixed with the now sweet scent of melon. Instantly he flares his nostrils in disgust. Covering his mouth, he makes a slight posture as if to upchuck in his throat. He turns his head back to the front desk and places his hand over the calling bell. He begins to vigorously press the palm of his han...

Facebook A Spineless Beast  You spineless beast, you coward. Bleeding your words from behind curtains of lies. Traveling with baggage that burden you, much uneasy to each train you ride. But much could whisked away to the emptiness and never spoken of again. But you dribble your tasteless tongue with pity. Covering your lips in dark plaster, a substance you created. Drawing upon whomever will listen, whomever will coddle you with showers of pity. Filth ridden are you, disgust is what you paint. But you care not, you are an addiction in yourself, in your own false righteous pleas. Cawing like a crow upon a thin branch. Scouring for trash, for any sustenance that be ill to your gut. So that you may roll in complaints and become a creature of suffering. Aching in the sight of others, echoing in your oh so terrible existence. Appealing to those who pour with empathy, who's pores live for the seeping of helping others, though those they help may be treacherous in action. Y...

A Forgotten Teddy  There, on a park bench alone, sat a lonely teddy bear. Drenched in rain upon a cold fall evening. Not a single soul in sight, but myself. And as I looked at it, I began to wonder, who it did belong to, why was it left? Did a child grow out its tender looks, was the mother in a hurry and they left it? And as these thoughts progressed with a slight pinch of sadness, the bear began to remind me of myself. I too, often sit alone, cold, in the rain in silence. Hoping for the stars to fall from the sky and lift me. I think too, maybe this is who I am meant to be, a silent, solitary soul. To only be loved for a momentary moment before being abandoned out of boredom or wear. And as I approached the teddy bear, I began to see it was worn. Tattered, signs it was clearly loved at one point. Held through restful nights as a candle burns in farthest reaches of a room. Being a comfort in the dead sweats of nightmare. And I too, once held tight to something, clingi...

Tears For A Beautifully Wretched World These tears, pull them from my eyes. Pluck them as if they are roses, but be careful their thorns. Do not mix blood with their innocence. For it is I who has held them for far too long. Stowing them away as if useless. Neglected have they been, burdening my eyes with sorrow. Heavy, in the sweet scent of rain have they become. But I cannot release them on my own. Pull back the lids of my eyes and pry them from where I have chained them. Do not fear the pain you shall cause, for much, is old. If you must, plug the canals of your ears if my screams will bring horror upon your listening. Long has this pain waited to be heard. No longer to be shuddered by my attempts to keep it silent. Do not fear the agony from each nail you shall draw from my eyes. Rusted they may be, from the misery that has soiled them. Causing sickness to my view, I, becoming ill set on believing the disease that has immured my happiness. I have become a casket for the d...

Message me on  Facebook 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...

Where Does A Lonely Soul Go? Where does on take a lonely soul? Where does one find solace among this heavy haze? A thickness where the sea compares as air. An open road, cumbersome feet, melancholy lines, dividing happiness from the mind. An overcast of romantic hope. But quickly dwindled in the mist of a downcast. Shadowing the heart in gloom. An oppressive misery wraps its damp arms around the chest. Suffocating the rhythm that once beat with ferocious courage. But now beats seldomly, with intent only to keep breath leaving the the lungs. Beasts form in the clouded view, eyes of raging flames. Standing in the height of mountains. Over baring, thoughts shriek, screaming in the emptiness that has carved its home inside. Still, silent, watching as the monsters approach. Strangely feeling a release, a comfort, the willingness to leave it all behind. Become consumed by what is unconsciously derived from depraved suffering. Leading chaos to the garden, smelting all the rose...

Living In The Shadows The shallowness of reading what already was. Capturing tears upon words, following trails of ink. Leaving no sign of new. Scratching pen across the happenings of past. Writing to close to fires, melting the light.  Shadow's billow upon pages, shadowing the now. Tear's clouding thought, madness ensues. What filth grimes the nails. Clawing for something to free, but too late. The walls are built the hell is lit and the heart is bleak. Eyes widen to the darkness, seeing no words to create. Holding ill to the unreachable, the no longer present. Fulfilling in desire, but holding deep to misery. Bleeding are the lips, for speaking in the shadows there lies pity. And screams will not be heard. For no ears but the designers will be present. Crying to the vacant lot of split white canvass. But fear holds to the aurora of what could be. Now no hope is to be held, little is to be done. For only the creator has the key.  Falling in disease to n...

A Love I Plead To Be Free Of There is no room for you anymore. These memories I wish no longer to store, I am sick of being dragged as if I am a corpse. A dead man for your pleasure to horde. To only speak to me when you are bored. I no longer wish to be a part of your dreadful story, let me soar. Let me find the better part of me though it may cut to my core. We are but a endless tragedy, a massacre, a war. Let me morn no more what we could not have. Your lips tainted, left me sore. Your heart became mine, though you never opened the door. And I waited with much patience as I tried to restore, acting to be a savior. But nothing could be done, you wore armor, and I had no encore. I could take no more, finding myself in a drugstore. Buying cheap spirits to leave me feeling no more. I deplore, let me be, let me roar, still you cling to me. Our memories I want no more. You linger at the back of my mind, you gnaw, I bleed, I scream, but cannot get free. Chains I have given you...

   A Man's Traveled Heart                                                                There Is No Boredom  This earth is no placed to be fixed, no place to be at a single point. Ah, the wonders that lie ahead. A nomad must a heart be. To truly embrace the eclectic sanctuary that is the ever expanding universe. Spinning us around and around a hundreds of times a year. Creating a connection to something that could boil us an instant if we drew too close. Frightful is this and if caught in a sudden stop, we would fling from the comfort of our grounds and we would burn like the stars.  This danger excites the heart. It pierces the simplicity of boredom when one finds the utmost danger in the utmost simplistic scenarios. And from those minut thoughts of tickling fear of adrenaline, blossoms knew gro...

Reluctant To Taste Your Dreams Do not be reluctant to taste the marrow of your dreams. To cut through the squelching of your past as it screams from the scalpel you wield. Do no fear the addiction they may bring. The succulents they will vibrantly instill upon the tongue of your soul. Do no follow the shadows that will tempt you with meager escapes from the pain. Pain in reaching for what most speak of as fiction. They twist the lines of their lives so that they may spill their ink from their pages. Only to blame the pen for the failure they have created. Do no wilt to the darkness that will brew in the stillness between the beats of your heart. For even a pinch of light, can rise, like yeast within dough. Fill each moment with belief in the stars that only you can see. Spread your heart among the universe at which you have designed. Bend time to your will, do not let it slide. Do not become cumbersome under the falling sands. Stand, for as long as you do not struggle in pit...

A Corpse To My Soul  I don't know where to take this. This corpse of mine that drags at my feet. It holds at my ankles with much desperation though it is dead. I can smell its stench with each fading second, but I have become null to it. Its grip, hollow, but somehow clings to me as if I am a God. And I hear it pray behind its rotted teeth that I will raise it from death. I try to ignore its spoiled flesh, its barren voice. But I am drawn to it when the world becomes a haven for burdens. I listen to it with regretful intent. And when I listen, the hills before me, grow that much higher. I become a thimble of a man, pressed heavily with anguish. With the constant battle of what is no longer, as I clasp with aspiration to create what will be. And this corpse, in its moments of declaration for wishing existence once again. I rage in my voice that it will shut up. That it will release itself from my ankles and let me walk in peace. But in just the moments I stop. Wher...

Take your soul for a ride A Man's Traveled Heart A Perfect View  And I saw her and in that moment, her smile became a beacon. A light, as if I were a lost ship at sea. So close was I, to crashing to the rocks upon the shore. But upon the misted sea, a light shinned in the distance, a hand came forward and eyes opened in the sky. A warmth over came my body. I felt as if an angel was lifting me to the heavens. All my burdens became but simple itches. Sustainable I felt, my thoughts froze in astonishment. My heart, blissful with each beat. My soul, dancing upon the waters of my rushing stream. Everything seemed meaningless in that moment, everything but her. The room drew silent, my eyes fixated upon beauty. Lip's of lushes red, eyes of emerald bliss. A smile of stars and hair of golden threads. Speechless was my throat, tied was my tongue. Admired her beauty did I. Lost in admiration I found laughter at every corner. I felt comfort at every look and felt sparks at ...

Get lost in the most soul rising book   A Man's Traveled Heart A Heart Of Skeletons  It never stops, the chattering distant voices. The scratching of old scabs, doing your best not to peel them back. To not open old wounds and bleed to the past. The constant choking on black smoke that floats trapped from the shadows we hide. But in this weakened state, we lift the scabs, though we know it bears nothing but pain. As we stockpile skeleton after skeleton in the deep corners of our hearts. Hoping none shall find them buried beneath a facade of happiness. As we blend to the melodrama of our life, acting as if all is without care. But, the moment we reach our bed, we sigh, we die, we collapse in the tears of our misery. Feeling the scars we bear, speak with no intent to comfort. Prying at our hearts as if we are deserving of anything pleasurful. That we are but a fragment of our former selves. That even that tiny piece of us that is left, we do not deserve. An...

Escape The Masses  Escape the masses, reverberate your soul. Impale the sheep that you once were, hang its head from the spear of your triumph. Show the world you no longer bear the armor of wool. But now, bear the teeth of a wolf, the heart of a lion, and the fortitude of a hero. No more idle breaths, you now raise yourself from the depths of your living grave. No longer will you walk with your head turned to the ground. You now walk freely from the herd, your shadow no longer haunts. You have sheered the weakness from you and now carry courage. Be valiant  in your efforts. Be not a berserker in your actions, frothing at the mouth with rash thought. But be as if a Valkyrie, wings spread, blade drawn, and heart pure in the battle to protect. To fight that which wishes to bring harm. Do not hush the beating of your heart, let it reign on your lands like the call of the horn. Bury the old and grow the new. Find yourself cleansed of the bitterness that tainted your...

Give your soul nourishment Read  A Man's Traveled A Chasm Of A Heart The chasm of the heart runs deep, deep in a broken soul. It hollows the veins of the heart like the halls of an abandoned cathedral. The wind whispers where blood once flowed, it whispers with a doleful voice. Carrying what blood is left like the fallen flakes of flesh to a passing breeze. It beats with no reason but to keep one living. It feels with anger, with sadness, drowning hope in tears. Suffocating what breath of life is left inside. Its coldness creates a bitter tone, it carries  a distasteful flavor upon the beating of the heart. It gives no solace in the emptiness it bears. This chasm is a mournful place. It poisons the soul with each day it grows. Voiding all life that clings to the walls of the heart. As ones soul pleads for forgiveness in self. Delicate becomes the heart, becomes the soul. Bruised in ego and spirit, shrinking like a puddle to a rising sun. Feeling no warmth in the d...

Facebook Some Must Fall To Hell Some must reach the depths of their hell before finding themselves. Before realizing the gift that is life. Some must fill the burning of brimstone beneath their hearts and the piercing of their soul before leaping into the actions of it. Some become so damned in their own skin they feel as if all hope is drained. That hell has consumed all breath and all that lay before them is misery and darkness. But in this vacancy of hope, many find faith. Many find the beaming light that sits atop their mountains of freedom. Looking up with discern but feeling the grace that bleeds from these lights. And in the flowing of misery, they take their first step. They lift their heavy soul and reach just a little further. And though their mountains towering in their presence. A sliver of promise falls into their heart and integrates into its rhythm. A promise of life, a promise that there is more to them than their suffering. That the shadows that follow...