Ars Poetica Redux

  I am not the same person That you met five minutes ago I have changed Yet stayed the same What a shame The me you are looking for No longer exists I stepped into the same river Styyx Twice in the same day Racking up my frequent flier's  Miles of smiles Along the well lit aisles  Bones in neat piles Among the hot smoking isles I am definitely not the same shame filled person That you almost never met Without regret or upset Five minutes ago Let's go slow You fucking hoe Life is so tentative You had better be retentive Solice in bed Is like being dead It goes to your head  Like a curtain of lead Thus I do hereby wed The shame of being dead in bed I indict as a crime against inanity Not just humanity In the ocean of insanity In a ship of fools Who all played with their tools This outrage broke the rules Made for these mules Alone and afraid Too far they had strayed From the masquerade A cavalcade of fools Turned into ghouls And occassionally toadstools Whose atoms and...

Ars Poetica: The Original Poetry of Charles Stephen Knause: NoPoems Today‘Causemy brain’s awayTheworld as will... : No Poems Today ‘Cause my brain’s away The world as will to power Makes me want to cower Then take a long cold shower If life se...

Putin puking                                                  While I'm sueing                                            Uncle Sam                                                  For being a ham                                                  I can tell you                                                  I...

Winkin', Blinken, & Biden Still hidin'  The fact that their (poll) numbers are a slidin' Want to give Russia a hidin' Instead of confidin'  The truth for sooth All the more The Grand Old Boar Goin' out the door Of time and fate He is prettty late For us to rate the political slate As more and more hate gets dumpted on his manicured pate "The dumb son of a bitch...." Has Got so rich Without a Hitch(ens)  Or even a stitch  Of clothing that is not loathing As the nation takes a hosing  This ultimate political animal  And world class high stakes gambler to boot Who has made loot using his root to shoot His wrinkled old load into any old toad in the middle of the road Ever higher and hire Like Faust does he aspire  A Mephostoplian brew desired only by the few Emits the stench of sulphur-PU Winkin' & Blinken @ Biden.com Still hidin' their true face from the chaste As they their new true blue master race So well considered and not in haist  ...

Butter is from an utter Therefore it makes me shudder This guy without a rudder  Whose speech is one long stutter And who has a heart flutter Says we need to love one another That includes my other known as my brother Who is a bother  For us both And an aspect of the god Toth A being full of rath and roth Never to be accused of going soft Or South  On us who pay the bill From a bankrupt till We are but a shill Without any real skill Who never learned how to kill With mere words That are turds But that drive the hurds Like little Miss Muffet shitting on her tuffet Eating her turds away On vacation to vacate  The vacuousness she predated and created A history of human (un)intelligence  Created with due diligence The worshipful AI That rules IT  We & thee & me  In the great Cyber-Sea Here by the sounding sea where there never ever was  A real  Annabelle Lee Thus spaketh my profit Zoroaster Who has redeemed me from complete disaster And w...

Sonny Black took the wack As a man among men in the LCN Shot once on the floor he was no bore Give me another one but one that counts Cause he went to bat for a no good rat But Special Agent Joe Pistone was just doing his job Claiming jewels he did rob This no good slob Did wind his way in And against Sonny sin The name of this STING  Had a curious ring Operation Donny Brasco And so it did go Down in the history books Amid curious looks From the questionable crooks Men of honor vs. men of iron FBI vs. LCN But never again  As saith The Raven Nevermore...... Sunny Black burns With the saints in hell Sounds pretty swell Who can tell The gleaning of a meaning In an oximoron Sonny Black will never be back Pistone we can attack Perhaps even wack And collect our sack Of $500K Oh happy day What a way To earn a buck and the g-men fuck We would need luck  Not to run amuk I need the cash And the G-men to bash I can't be rash Or Pistone will dash Out of sight and out of my mind Into ...