You can call me Bartleby. That’s not my real name, but it’s close enough. I think someone once said…I write, therefore I am…or something like that. No matter. I write. And I am. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I’ll tell you why I’m here. For years I kept quiet, even as I became more dissatisfied, more disconcerted, with what I saw all around me. Personal disappointments and frustration with a deteriorating world finally brought me to the breaking point. So I began to write. Do you dare to think you can now shut me up?

Pushed into decisions that weren’t what I wanted, justified by fabrications, didn’t help me or anyone. Have you ever heard the stories of someone not feeling the need to tell the whole truth, minus embellishments? If I was there too, would I back them up? Would you? The truth matters, and the truth is that I won’t buy the big lie, nor will I let it slide. That isn’t nitpicking. It’s basic decency. For awhile, to keep the peace, you may learn to close your ears…pretend you heard nothing unusual. But after awhile, you’ll feel complicit…and compromised. Like I did, you’ll reach a crossroads…either you reach the breaking point or surrender your integrity.
“I am not a crook!”
“Welfare Cadillacs”
“I did not have sexual relations with that woman.”
“Weapons of mass destruction”
“Better and cheaper healthcare”
Just to name a few examples everyone has heard doesn’t cover the breadth of the problem. Anyway, the beat goes on. In a world where there’s so little regard for truth, does it make lies, or even tall tales acceptable? It doesn’t just happen in the political world. Much of what offends my ears is very personal. Politics, though, should provide examples everyone has heard…if only people cared enough to seek out the truth as vigorously as they seek out the latest Christmas toy phenomenon or see the latest “must see TV”. You may call me cynical…or a curmudgeon. Have at it if you don’t want to look into the mirror at yourself. I’m speaking truth, and you know it. Or are you willing to lie to yourself? I won’t be complicit.


I had no
Hold on love…
As if it had forever
Passed me by…
And yet I remained
A hopeful romantic,
Knowing that
Anything is possible
So often we find…
Their self love keeps them
From recognizing that
What they call love
Feels like nothing of the kind
To the recipient…
Like a foreign language,
It doesn’t translate
I knew I could never give up
And I never will…up till the end


Spooky decorations
Midway through September
Then…tis the season…
One day after Halloween?
When some bemoan
The “dismissal” of Christmas
Calling it an attack on religion
I wonder what they say
When the Fa La Las begin
Fueling the buying binges
That put corporations
Finally in the black…
Seems the complaint
Is misdirected…
Their faith infected
By the worship of greed
With Black Friday
Still many days away

© 2017 Robert Mihaly


Have I the need or desire
To pen my autobiography?
Probably not what I’d do…
Not for any question of what
I’ve experienced or accomplished
Put bluntly…my bucket list is short
Not a question of having a life of
Checking off the boxes…and yet
Things that appear on the lists of others
Are in my rear view mirror…
Trying to lord it over others,
Never the way I rolled…instead
Modest acknowledgment
The road I chose to tread…
Still…there are times I regret
And even, for some things, resent
Finding no recognition at all…not fair
The good we do for humanity…
Why leave that to rattle around your head?


I’m dying, she said…
Lady Liberty, tears unseen,
Covered by the falling rain
And the real lovers of liberty
Know they’re real…
The document that
Guarantees our rights
Under attack by those
Who wrap themselves
In the flag, while
Dishonoring the words
Trampling over two
Centuries of respect
For its authors…
And the rights of
We the People
Extinguishing the torch
Dark days have come
To a great nation…
And lies can’t hide it
The darkness that
Liberty long banished
Is upon the land…
The bad news unbounded
Dismantling begun…
But We the People
Have just begun to fight

Darkness must not win



Sir Isaac Newton
A giant in his time
Was he an expert
Whose word should
Rule even into ours?
A cleric named Ussher
Concluded in 1650…
Our Earth began in 4004 BC
His evidence…interpolation
From the Old Testament
Admired in their time…
But we know they were wrong
Does that mean science
Can’t be trusted…
Or that it works?
We live in a time
When science is mistrusted
When many choose to doubt
What their eyes can clearly see
So why do they choose
To live in the dark?


Seek and ye shall find
Not everything is
So easily attainable
Not always a matter
Of ability…too many
Possessing great talent
Find limited opportunity
Sometimes who, not
What you know…
The ways of the world
Haven’t changed in eons
The greatest sculptor was
Forced to paint a ceiling
Lying on his back? No!
That’s a long-standing myth…
And standing was how he worked
His true love…painting? No!
Marble spoke to him, the
Figures inside begged him
To set them free…
To paint a fresco…the price
Of admission to pursue HIS passion
For years…four to be exact
He labored under orders,
Creating a masterpiece
Renowned worldwide forever
Not all find the opportunity
Many great beginnings fail…
But how many find another way
To “share the breathings”
Of their heart? So here I am…
Another sculptor, but this time
Willingly trading bronze and clay
For the words that I hope
Allow me to find my way onward
As I share what I’ve learned
And write to live beyond my time
© 2017 Robert Mihaly