"White Album: Beatles' escapade. White belt: karate, freshman grade..." The White Stuff: A Constrained Nonsense Alphabet in Rhyme

White Album: Beatles’ escapade. White belt: karate, freshman grade.
White Castle: burgers by the bag. White dwarf: small star whose heat will flag.
White elephant: beware of mauling. White Fang: hears the Wild a-calling.
White gold: holds trace manganese. White House: The Donald keeps the keys.
White ink: on onion skin? Bizarre! White joke: “Three honkies hit a bar…”
White knight: his song’s called “Ways and Means.” White lies: when KKK convenes.
White Man’s: that burden’s best laid down. White noise: comes, too, in pink and brown.
Wite-Out: it holds one letter less. White pages: show they your address?
White Queen: in Carroll and in chess. White Rhino: ganja, more or less.
Black Sox: ’19, Comiskey Park. White tiger: threatened. (Think ‘white shark.’)
White unicorn: a mythic beast. White Velvet (cake): Take two pans, greased…
Whitewater: nearly sunk Slick Will. White xenia: soft coral frill.
White yam: it’s class'd D. rotundata. White Zin? Was rosé; now, not a…

"I now know (that's something new) that she now knows (yes, he knows, too)..." 'Cognoscere' Conjugational: A Constrained Nonsense in Rhyme

I now know 
(that’s something new)
that she now knows 
(yes, he knows, too)
that we now know 
(as knows my gnu)
that they now know -- 
as so do you.
Your crew now knows – 
of course you do --
that it now knows. 
(Is ‘it’ a ‘who’?)
Now, lest is risked 
more déjà vu,
this conjugational's 
through, nu?

"About Athos and Porthos and Aramis: aren't they like bagels and cream cheese and lox...?" Threenody or Triumvirates, Triviragos and Trissentials: A Constrained Nonsense

Part I (in six parts) 

About Athos and Porthos and Aramis: 
aren’t they like
bagels and cream cheese and lox...? 
Are they so unlike
Balthazar, Gaspar and Melchior: 
three nifty gifts, one triangular box...?

About Curly and Larry and Moe 
(two are look-alike 
Howards while one's merely Fine):
are they so unlike
Dewey and Cheatham and Howe:
each a trio con brio, each top of the line...?

About Eeny and Meeny and Miney (so many 
bemoan now how Moe’s now “no mo’”): 
Are they so unlike
Ferris and Cam’ron and Sloane, 
not to mention 
Manet, Klee and Vincent van Gogh...?

About Groucho and Harpo and Chico: 
are they not like
gravy and bangers and mash...? 
Are they not like 
Hermi’ne and Harry and Ron, not to mention 
Doc Zarkov and Arden and Flash...?

About Ignatz and Krazy and Offissa Pupp, 
who’re like
lettuce, tomato and bacon, 
who’re not unlike
Jesus and Mary and Joseph: on toast 
or en host, either’s Jake to partake in.

About Kukla and Frances and Ollie: 
are they not like
Kellogg’s Snap, Crackl' 'n' Pop...? 
Are they so unlike
Lamia, Laida and Flora...? (Perhaps 
now’s the opportune moment to stop.)

End of Part I   

Part II (in five parts)

About lions and tigers and bears (oh my!): 
aren’t they like
Scarecrow and Tin Man and Cowardly...? 
Aren’t they like
Minnie and Mabel and Maude...? 
(I refuse to revisit the Stooges, Moe Howardly.)

About Mavericks -- Bret, Bart and Beau: 
are they so unlike
Pep Boys – Jack, Manny and Moe – 
who’re so like three solfeggi (i.e., mi, re, do) 
which are not unlike
traffic lights -- ‘stop,’ ‘wait’ and ‘go’...?

Aren’t Nairobis – say, Lemmon 
and Loden and Lauer – 
like solids and liquids and gas...? 
Are they so unlike
Michaelmas, Easter and Lent...? 
Are they so unlike threepeats...? 
You bet your sweet ass!

About Oscar and Johnny and Nat: 
are they so unlike
fiddlers and pipes and a bowl...? 
(Bet your boots they are:
one three’s the Nat “King” Cole Trio. 
The other three...? Call'd for by merry King Cole.)

About Peter and Mary and Paul: 
are they so unlike
Patty, Maxene and LaVerne, 
who are like Pavarotti, Domingo and 
“that other guy.”
(Grant me more – ten! -- before we adjourn.)

End of Part II   

Part III (in four parts)

About quidam and quaedam and quoddam: 
are they not like
Emily, Charlotte and Anne...? 
Are they so unlike
Rs -- Readin,’ ‘Ritin,’ and ‘Rithmetic – 
quite like the number of Ks in the Klan...?

About Francis and Sammy and Dean...? 
Are they so unlike
souses and soakers and sots...? 
Are they not the “Chance,
Evers and Tinker”s of profligate drinkers...?
(In short, don’t they guzzle a lot...?)

Aren’t the Ugly, the Good and the Bad 
not unlike carbohydrate 
and protein and fat, which are not unlike
“Veni” and “Vidi” and “Vici” – 
and much like Cornwallis's tricornered hat...?

About Wynken and Blynken and Nod: 
are they not like the 
Santa Maria, the Niña
(as well as the Pinta) and quite like 
the Three Penny Op’ra which
starr'd the superb Lotte Lenya...? 

End of Part III    

Coda (in three parts)

About Xena and Gaby and Joxer: 
are they not like
Preakness and Belmont and Derby...? ]
Aren’t they like the
dudes in those flickers – e.g., City Slickers – 
Bill Crystal, Dan Stern, Bruno Kirby...?

About Yoshi, Luigi and Mario: 
aren’t they like
Bones (three!) in humanoid ears...? 
Are they not like 
those days – lazy, hazy and crazy – 
Nat sings of, with sodas and pretzels 
and beers...?

About Zoey and Lola and Quinn: 
are they so unlike
countrymen, Romans and friends....? 
Are they not like 
three pigs, three French hens, 
and three sheets to the wind...?
(Thus with three threes my “three”nody ends.)