Equivocal Barbs: A Constrained Nonsense Rhyme

'Barbies' be equivocal. E.g., here's three plus three.  
One's Bobbie and the Riders of his (Benson's) B-Bar-B. 
Two's Zanzibar, between the Wami delta and the sea.  
Three's"Butcher" Barbie -- christened Klaus -- who's no one's cup of tea.  
Valeria Lukyanova’s four: human Barbie, she.  
Five's Donald Drumpf, who tweets the barb (he shuns the repartee).  
Six? Mike Pence walks into a bar because he needs to pee.  
Yes! 'Barbie's are equivocal. (Now, let's grab Arby's kea.*)

     * A kea is a species of New Zealand parrot. It appears Arby's
does, indeed, "have the meats" -- even the more exotic cuts.    

More '-yson' on the (Fruit)cake

One -son of Ty- is Neil de Grasse.
In suits by Blass, Neil, spouting sass,
brings artistry to science class.

One -son of Dy- is Michael Eric.

Mike, part prof, part Baptist cleric,
rings exchanges esoteric.

A second -son of Ty-, Mad Mike,

who lost his dad while yet a tyke,
enlists twin fists nigh iron-like.

And what of Freeman, -son of Dy-?

And what of Peabo, -son of Bry-?
My ‘-yson’ well’s run dry. Goodbye.

Hold That Line! A "Diet"ribe

In my spoon I imagine no sugar.
In my mug I imagine no milk.
On my plate I imagine no pasta,
only green leafy veg and its ilk.
Each “…imagine no…” proving successful
leaves me more the giraffe, less the swine.
Grant this wish, Divine Vish: a volition suffish
to maintain my “…imagine no…” line!