Beware the Empress of Desire
to whom like moths men bend their wings;
dark temptress for whose ice cold fire
they burn – the fate desire brings.

Ensorcelled happily they slave
to do whatever she may ask,
to grant her ev’ry wish and crave
only that she take them to task.

Ulysses knew her siren song
and he too thrilled to its demand;
writhing restrained by lashings strong
that man’s man too became unmanned.

Bespelled the poet has no choice
Except to give her beauty voice.

You need not answer ’round whom all revolve,
drawn inexorably toward their fate.
You need do nothing for all to resolve,
it is for us to move knowing you wait.

Thus planets orbit ’round their burning sun,
in chains of gravity and dark desire,
until their circling’s over and they come
to fuel at last their funeral pyre.

Like this in ev’ry sphere the greater rules
and so the weaker yields as he must.
To protest this is useless and he fools
only himself who calls his fate unjust.

I would change nothing even could I choose;
the poet’s made to wait upon his muse.

A fierce force of women gathered,
Went marching up the beach.
The first of many millions,
Which soon the polls will reach.

“We will grab him by the ballots,”
One of their T-Shirts said.
“We are not ovary-acting”
Another T-Shirt read.

And me? I followed at the rear,
Which is my proper place.
Mistress has made it very clear
That women set the pace

And very soon I hope I’ll see
A woman president lead me.

I will never say “I’ll never,”
When talking to my domme.
Or make jokes to show I’m clever,
Or drop the dread F bomb.

I’ll never tell her what she should
Or what she shouldn’t do,
Or that what she says would be good’s
A thing I will not do.

“No” is not in my lexicon,
Nor is the word “refuse,”
“That’s wrong’s” a phrase I’ve made sure’s gone,
“I won’t” aren’t words I use.

I’m careful what words cross my lips,
For Mistress punishes my slips.

I kneel naked at your feet,
Floored by a look and brought to heel.
So strange to find submission sweet,
Yet that’s exactly how I feel.

Bound here by chains I cannot break,
Forged from the ore of my desire,
I pray you’ll condescend to take
And make of me what you require.

So now I learn to hold my tongue
And how to use it at your cue,
Until you tell me I am done
Or that you’ve more for me to do.

I don’t how we’ve come to this.
I only know it is my bliss.