Pyrrhic Poems - Poems about Pyrrhic

Bittersweet pyrrhic victory... if a 2024 November presidential Biden win pandemonium likely to occur, subsequently figurative tectonic upheaval might set United States in a tailspin. Though discouraged, disenchanted, disheartened, et cetera Democrat, I intend to exercise enfranchisement wherein human made his habitat within Schwenksville, Penna, a washed out town with one laundromat pessimism rains heavy on my heart reverberating a prominent pitapat hoping on a...

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People still talk about war and peace, But time’s come to talk of war and piece, To pieces that turns life, To shambles, utter strife, And still, would war mania ever cease? _________________________________ Happenings |01.03.2022| war, peace Poet’s note: We know, war victories are pyrrhic and the victor and the vanquished both suffer. Yet, that does not stop any...

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Her eyes lightened the darkness of my hopelessness, something about its softness pulsated. Oh, what a prize, ...

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Rigor mortis cold comfort defendant need not appear in court diminishes attendant prosecutorial effort habeas corpus made superfluous courtesy just dessert morte but deadman outflanked plaintiffs sport. Nonetheless millionaire financier and accused sex trafficker found dead by suicide on Saturday August 10th, 2019 doth not absolve his guilt rather speaks of innocence and naiveté he stole. Many accosted victims might rejoice, yet the ghost of Jeffrey Epstein will continue to...

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MY PYRRHIC TRIP by JOHN M. ARRIBAS I Had Planned this Trip for Years and Years Not Enough Longevity, Was My Haunting Fears But Sure Enough the Time Arrived to Go Gonna Ramble, Gamble and Catch the Shows Off to Vegas, I Can Hear the Casinos Calling Wad of Cash, Gas in the Benz, No More Stalling I Studied the Ins N Outs of...

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PYRRHIC EVOLUTION by JOHN M. ARRIBAS There once was a time in this great land When folks said “ yes sir” and “yes maam” Those days are ancient, eroded away Where are we headed, I’m afraid to say A time when the elderly were respected A time when vulgar language, not accepted A time when women were fully attired A time when patriotism; a virtue...

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Pyrrhic revenge They’d eaten his books, his clothes and lean paper money, Whetted their teeth against his coins and an old jar of honey. They’d blown cold air nightly, as they gnawed whilst he slept, Eating bits of his extremities that lay in the path they crept. No out-of-bounds, for every nook they could roam, In his one room shack...

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PYRRHIC VICTORY* Written for a friend who has cancer! Who are you, oh Death? Are you: A friend Or A foe? My liberation Or My condemnation? The end of my troubles Or The beginning of my tribulations? The sunset of the temporal Or The dawn of the eternal? Whoever you are, Unafraid before you I stand, Waiting For the moment we meet face To face. If...

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