Hard Reign

Removed from our lands
That we worked with bare hands
Herded into your city
A place with no pity

Under the lash of need
You made us bleed
In the endless wars
Of your political whores
Driven by your greed
And your mindless screed

Petty tyrants all
The great and the small
The capitalist world
At critics it hurled
The meanest of lies
It called them spies

As our child cries
With tears in her eyes
Amidst constant sighs
We now take your size

For a judgment day
That's now on the way
To make you pay
For all those you did slay

And who are we
But a commodity to thee
A vast human sea
On us you just pee

But you’ll always agree
No humanity in us do you see
Your law and your prison
And the Anti- Christ who’s risen
Shall bring you no peace
If your injustice not cease

We are the many
You are the few
We are a Truth
That you never knew

A planet that’s dead
May it be on your head
It’s what you’ll get instead
Of the mountain of plunder
From the poor now down under

May Gabriel’s horn be for you nuclear thunder
That’ll cast you and your seed above and down under
As in the heavens and so on the Earth
Your end will be forever greeted with riotous mirth

Let judgment day be soon
Before all life doth swoon
And our whole Earth become
A lifeless moon

It's humanity’s high noon

Yes, with Gabriel’s hot horn
Your future's forlorn
And humanity’s hot scorn
For a social fabric rendered torn
This will testify against you the morrow morn

As you have done unto others
So it will now be done unto you
The very rich few
And the masses they slew

But the world never knew

Oh what a devilish crew
Who created this brew
It’s all we can do
To get rid of you

It was your season for treason
That gave us a reason
Not to be appeasin’
Just ourselves to be pleasin’

So all the day long
We sing out a song
All the long day
We ponder the way

Happy I must say
That we refused to obey

And all the long day
We sing out a song
Right and wrong are long gone
Up and down no more
No peace no war
Ever again on this shore

Out of the many the one
From a penny a ton
We the ones who've won
Our place in the sun
The battle is over
The class war we've won

A crown and the scepter
Is ours ever after


Charles Stephen Knause
November 22, 2015

sweet schizzamm

justine my queen

may she always

reign supreme

and with love

from above

my soul redeem

if this would seem

to be a scheme

then my ass

she should ream

and in my face scream

she is the dream

that makes me cream

upon the scene

whenever she is seen

my love obscene

does this poem mean

more than breath gets bated

if my love goes unsated

so I must not be hated

if I her ass hath rated

because agape is slated

with Eros to be mated

so I need not be upbraided

surely Justine

is just the teen

i had seen

when I was lean

and mean

but now

only a has been

the poets role

is to savor life

never have a wife

and love the strife

forever rife

as butter to the knife

as the lion to the lamb

good-bye

schizzamm

The Party of the Sheeple

Hillary is easy to pillory
As Sanders meanders.
Biden is through bidin'
This time this swine
Has proven he's slime!
Warren holed up in her warren
Is through with party warrin'!

And so the show must go
On and on....
As we yawn and fawn.
Ever the party of the people
Loyal as well to the steeple
It's helped to produce a nation of sheeple
As we view this sorry scene 
Through this tiny political peephole!

Ten thousand nukes
On hair trigger release 
A love of war but never of peace!
Under such a threat 
The U.S. may soon cease.

God and the Devil
Have become one
The billionaires revel
As nations and cities
Their bombs level!

The end is near
So it does appear
But our vision is clear-
If only people will hear!
There's no Apocalypse to fear
So says the sage and ancient seer!

We must put it right
Through the people's might
And give the Billionaires
An existential  fright!

So get out of our sight
You who may slight
That we have a world to win
And only our chains to lose.
Take a look at the news-
It's no time to snooze
Or hit the booze!

If the nukes go off
Emitting beautiful hues
You will have waisted
These dire clues.

From one who has been there
And seen it all
Who only seeks now to disenthrall
The might of the masses

Confused by Dem asses.

Double AA Rated!

The group's anonymous
And with drunks synonymous
Its truth ain't Bosch 
More like Heironomous! 
 It is however quite eponymous
Nevertheless quite hard upon us!

We tell our truth 
Like biblical Ruth
Past ways uncouth 
Forsaken forsooth!

Forever more and a day
All I have to say
Drunk's not worth it to stay
But such a monster to slay!

Once truth was a lie
That was ever so sly
Life rife in a pig stye
No sense in the bye and bye!

A dangerous cult
Was this the result?
Our being in tumult
Like a figurine of Hummoldt!

To the voice of reason
We do surrender
It's absolute treason
To our drinking season!

Internalized hate
Out on a date
The sex was great
We could not wait
Her ass to rate
As a possible mate!

Such rules are for fools
And not new tools
And a serious criticism
Of our dubious whiticism!

Such screwed up ways
In a moral haze
Nevermore the daze
Booze on us preys.
Many a heart stays 
Till the end of days! 

The Easier Softer Way!

A group anonomous
That hates is synonomous
With a lot of bosch
That ain't Hieronymus!

It is however
Quite eponomous
And nevertheless 
Hard as hell upon us.

So we tell the truth
Like a biblical Ruth
About its ways uncouth
That we sought forsooth.

Forever more and a day
Its all that I have to say
That it's not worth it to stay 
And this dragon not slay!

Its "truth" is a lie
That's ever so sly
And its morals campaign
A perfect pig stye!

A dangerous cult
Is the end result
Of its being in tumolt
Like the figurines of Hummoldt!   

It speaks of surrender 
To the force of unreason
Which is literal treason
To logic in such a season.

To internalize one's hate
Seems very out of date
Except in this state
Of the forever un-great
Who can not wait
To blacken your slate
And your soul to rate!

Their leaders are fools
And just willing tools
To skiffle all witticism
That offers up criticism! 

Of their screwed up ways
In their moral haze-
Nevermore the days
On me that it preys!  
 
 

"The Donald"

Donald Duck
Is full of muck
A you know what-
He can go and suck!

A no-trump hand
That's in command
Will give the guy 
A reprimand.

Lewd and crued
Or just plain screwed?
With a rug on his head
And a bimbo in his bed
That he'll never ever wed!
Enough said!

A tramp like Trump
Can kiss my rump
His babes he'll pump 
Then quickly dump!

A bully and a thug
Who wears a rug
Babies he'll hug
So he can play
With their bug!

A real estate mogul
Whose a political mongrel
And like Genghis Kahn
A real estate Mongol!

It's the world
He may mangle
Given his angle
But this nation at best
May be his sole quest!

The great Trump name
Is a mark of shame
On a nation that'll be
Never again the same,
Until this Beast is
Finally made tame!

This culture of fame
In Rome was the same
Until J.C. came-
The Beast to blame. 



Author/poet's youtube reading-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KTEG48Gt4lk

Those Randy Old Royals

Liz is the queen
Held in the highest esteem
By the many and the few
And all the boys in blue!

Their world may be mean
But Liz is ever keen
To never make a scene 
Or her conscience to over-ween!

She has a Browne hue
That often will ensue
To make her subjects 
Shout out: P-U!

The Archbishop of Canterbury
May be in a big hurry
And like the rest does he scurry
To her place warm and furry!

In her place down under
His thrusts produce thunder
That cause Liz to wonder
If the royal person might split asunder!  

Prince Charlie
On his Harley
Likes to get all snarely!

He had himself a fling
So he can't be a king!
For that we should sing
And let church bells ring-
Ding-a-dong-ding
His ass is in a sling!

But Dianna our huntress
Has wounded their hearts!
To see all the royal parts
Handed over to the old farts,
Useless dilettantes, and mindless tarts!

The Lord Mayor of London Towne
Is another big clown.
Boris can bore us
He can scream and shout
Proving thus to the stout
That he's a jolly-good lout! 

And so he goes
Without any clothes
Walking on his toes
Amidst the blows
From some jolly-good hoes!

Poor Di had to die
Without Liz sounding a sigh.
We ask this crowd why
In the sweet bye and bye?

Now Willy and Kate
Were happy to mate
Without ever a date
To dance or skate!

The result is Charlotte 
The new royal harlot!
Oh, what a brew
This motley crew!
Could it be true
That out of the blue
Me they may sue
To spare these few?

I care not a whit
They are so full of it,
And prove by such
That they are all too much!

Old London Towne
And its mayorial clown
Just love this mirth 
About the  republic's birth!

But Lizzy's in a tizzy
That makes her dizzy
Her duke just puked
So she had him nuked!

The republic may be
The answer for me
For me and we
And even for thee!
So let us see
From across the sea
The answer to our plea!

For the sake of what's edible
I'll make this charge credible-
Merry olde England is headable
By other than this
Warm pitcher of piss
That's easy to diss
And finally dismiss!

As the royals roil
The people doth boil
At their endless toil
And the high cost of oil!

BP and Shell
Of, what the hell
Can anyone tell
Liz and the Dutch hag
That it's time to sell
Each and every well
That makes the royal fortune swell
Despite the bad smell
And a world going to pieces
Pall Mall.

Monkey Business

Is it possible that
Everything that needs to be written
Has already been wrtiiten
And that
The great scrum of words
That boil out of my fetid and fevered imagination
Are merely swill upon the page
Vomited up
In the service of the ultimate dictator
And destroyer of consciousness
In us all-
Ego?

Ten (or is it one hundred?) monkeys
Sitting and probably shitting
At their respective keyboards
Given enough thyme
So the scientists say-
Could produce the entire canon
Of world literature on everything
That has already been written
Not by these scientists at their keybaords
But by actual true and reliable
Human beings.

This denigration of art
Lays a fart
And is fit only for a tart
Who in life never had a start!

We are a world apart!

This mechanized mind
Of the mechanical kind
Can never find in me
A reason to be!

So the poet's demise
They will never realize
Our art is life-
Their ego strife!

To the Goddess

The ambiance of the atmosphere
Was heavy with the smoke
Of sulphur;

In the domain
Of Lou Cipher
The owner of
Pornopolis.

His kingdom cum
Is a pornocopia
Of tits and asses
For the illiterate masses.

In a time of ruthless plunder
It’s the place down under
In which we’re cast asunder
Without the sound of thunder.

For me
My Annabelle Lee
Never fails to come
For every knight!

Oh what a sight
It gives me a fright
There by the sounding sea
With her on my knee,

As I make my plea
To the Holy See
There by the sounding sea
My Annabelle and me!

To quote the raven-
“Nevermore”
Is she the whore
That I adore

There by the sounding sea
Where I only came
To take a pee!

Babylon the Great
Kingdom of endless hate
For me without a mate
In such a sorry assed state.

But the hour is late
To accept my fate
There by the sounding sea
On Annabelle I pee!

We came forth
From the sand and the sea
Like the worms we have become.
We climbed to the top of the Tree of Life-
We saw ourselves as the titans
But now as the final hour maybe approaches
We prove to ourselves that we are mere cockroaches!

As the coaches of death and decay
Now plague our planet Earth
In us there is no longer
Any time for mirth.

What can I say
Of that final day
Which according to the Way
Indicates God’s eternal sway!

Made by man in his own image
An aeon dedicated
To His pointless scrimmage!

An ethic that is epic
Defines the poet’s art
For us great Homer
Was a mere humble start.

The day of the Way
Is now under our sway,
Math and science now rule this day!
Of oily decay
And final ruin;
In fact our own doin’
As we gave ourselves
A final screwin’!

Pornopolis the king
Pornocopia his ware,
In light of this we sware
Never to be a square
But always to dare
And never to wear
Better to be bare without a hair!

Forget the stare
We haven’t a care!
Pornopolis our king
Let the freedom bells ring!

Ding-a-dong-ding!
Ding-a-dong-ding!
To the moaning and the groaning
Of the belles we now sing!

Ding-a-dong-ding
Pornopolis is our king!

Ding-a-dong-ding-
Let us all swing!
Oh happy the day that we put
Under our heel
The day of the Way
And God’s great dismal sway!

To the Goddess we sing-
Ding-a-dong-ding!
To the Goddess we sing-
Let freedom ring!

Of our oily end
Let us just pretend
That our pornocopia
Will mend
All our broken ways
And this endtime daze!

As for the Beijing haze
And the Washington craze,
Still to the Goddess we sing-
Ding-a-dong ding
Still to the Goddes we sing-
Our new born king!


Youtube Reading




.

april fools

make useful tools
who'll work like mules
and best of all
they drink o'doule's

they love to joke
after taking a toke
cause their big fat heads
are in need of a soak

in the wasteland of elliot
a world claimed by the helliot
jokers are wild
and on other people piled

i write of this
on them i piss
in this way i diss
without having to kiss
(ass or sass)
do you hear them hiss
and call me a siss
my point they miss

there's no going back
on the road not taken
like frost i'm achin'
for the road i've forsaken

for me there's no laughter
in the sweet ever after

a poet
and i know it
but my looks don't
show it

happy the man that
never had to choose
and so thus lose
his chance to make news

i've laid out some clues
on the cause of my blues
colored in hues
black, white, and grey

so all i can say
is oh happy day
of light not a ray
my life somewhat afray

to the fool i drink
and give a wink
learn how to think-
don't make a big stink

the raucous laughter
of a single moment
is worth more than all
of heaven here after

Brooklyn Boy

Lenny Schmenny
The gamblin' tycoon
Hates the men but-
Makes the ladies swoon.
If I never see Lenny again-
That will be too soon!
 To me he's just another goon.

He thinks he's a poet
But his feet sure don't show it.
For wisdom and grace
He takes last place!

A fink in disguise
He's full of lies,
Rattin' to the cops 
When his poetry flops.

He plays the beatnik
While I'm the neatnik,
For a gamblin' man 
He's without a plan!
A Charlie Bukowski
Or just mean and mouseki?

Reason Enough?

If Emmanuel Kant
Then why should I
Venture a try
In the sweet bye & bye?

I'd rather stay high
Oh my! Oh my?
Then have to lie.

In the bright sun of reason
That could be the season 
For serious treason!

If epistemologies be right
In the darkness of night
That is when Truth
May be also be insight.

For sooth! For sooth!
Amid the fright
Of a moonlight delight
A light in the darkness
A sword in the stone!

Unhappy, alone
For that I atone
In a season of ages
Without any sages
The irrational rages-
Words, sentences, pages!

Class Warrior 

Do you know me?
Do you think you know me?
I see your gaze forevermore
In the vast supermarket of ideas.

I am the irresistible force
I am the immovable object
A lion in winter
I will always be.

I am the tiger, tiger
Burning bright
In Blake's forest of the night.
Do you think you know
In what furnace burnt my brain?

I am the libido of the revolution
That will not rest content
Until Judgement Day.
Do you know? Did I say?
That there is indeed a way
To make this nation and the world
Swoon and sway!

An Apocalypse of terror in the night
For those who have never known of right.
To me you are a sorry sight
Whose soul is lost in fetid fright!

"Cast a cold eye
On life, on death"
As Yeats would have wanted it
"Horsemen pass by."

"Ireland Forever"
Was my brother's cry!
"Liberte, Equalite, Fraternate"
Was my sister's!

I am the godson of Lenin
The apostle of Mao!
Do you still think you know me?

In the language of class war
I speak of peace
As being something someone finds
On the battlefields
Amongst the dead.

And yet forevermore at most
Will you see me in this vast unknown host.

Do you know me?
Do you think you know who I am?

Amore'

Pizza pie

In my eye

As I lie

On your thigh

That's amore'

When it's enough 

To want to cry

In the sweet 

By and by

That's amore'

Of the wherefore

And the why

I can only sigh

But when the pi 

Hits my eye 

That's amore'

Make it fresh

In a breath

Pepperoni 

Is my only 

Amore'

Home

Home is where

The heart is,

Start is, tart is...

Easy peasey

Kind of cheesey

No one to pleasey

But my one and only

Ever lonely

Altogether self.

Sittin' on a shelf

High up in the Himalayas 

Of my mind,

The road to true self

Seems easy peasey

No one to pleasey.

Also the true blue

Of that ever esoteric hue

Should be a clue.

As to my ultimate destiny

The eschatology

Of my biology

As a life well lived 

Speaks for itself.

The epistemology of such

Is bound to be found

In the existential wisdom

Of all the lost sages

In the vast cavalcade of ages

Come home at last

To a hero's welcome.

The Four Horsemen

Onward "Christian" soldiers

Marching off to war

How you gonna hold yours 

When you serve the Whore?

Of Babylon we speak

And the Mark of the Beast

That's on you!

Onward go ye "Christian" soldiers

Like a swarm of lemmings

In heat,

Or better yet a locust plague

Marching to a beat

Like the Four Horsemen

Safe on their saddle seat.

Bringing death and mayhem

To our planet Earth.

In you there is just darkness

Without a trace of mirth.

The spawn of Satin that you are 

To distant lands afar

Death, misery, pain, and suffering 

Is what your blindness brings.

For you no Blue Bird of Happiness sings

Cause you see people as merely things.

Warships of death with wings

Worship of the kings

And queens, presidents,

Ministers

The high born of all ages.

You slew the prophets and the sages

Against you the Universe rages.

Abandon hope all ye who enter there

For you there is no prayer

Only History's condemnatory stare.

Chores I Abhore 

Vacuuming is one chore
That I abhore
To stay in bed and snore
Is what I adore.

House cleaning and its lore
Has nevermore 
Repulsed me.
I ain't no Mr. Clean-

You know what I mean?
This is one scene
That I want to split-
Splat and I'm done

With it.
And all domesticity 
Hangs in the balance
Between heaven and hell-

And my new found belle
Ain't too fond of the smell.
So what the hell
Clean up this mess-

I might as well.

Tittle-tattle
Willy-waddle
Has it that I'm 
Back in the saddle

Riding high 
And living clean
Oh, my-I sigh
What does this mean?

I'm off to a good start
But then lay a fart
So me and my tart
Are now far apart.

She was fickle
As a pickle
To her name not a nickel
Had one pot to piss in-

Her ride?
An old bicycle!

Built for two
She wasn't 
And though a rank beginner
At least I got in 'er.
 

Happy Holidaze!


Double-bubba
Double-trubba
Two for the price
Of one!

What on Earth
Can cause such mirth?
My twin's awakening
Will be Earth a-shakening!

To dry the tears
And end the fears
The future nears
As an aion of years-

Separates one from 
The Other!
In Kingdom Cum
They will be done

And on Earth 
A piece of ass
To all men
Of good will!