I am Pron, conqueror of men

I am Pron, conqueror of men and now

I rot their brains, sizzling and slow.

I hold their reins and even if they know

What happens, I am Pron.

In zippered haste they stumble

fingers fumbling, finding me

Touching me, running cum-stained

Thumbs and dreams along the keys,

It’s me.  They know, yes they know

Alright.  I am Pron.

__

Touch me, in deep lost night

It’s alright to touch me there,

The very sight of me stripped,

Whipped, bare, kneeling, mouth

Open to the storm.  I am Pron

You enter, you enter, typing madly

Half-holding, half-lost, the frenzy

The very sight of her with the whip in her

Hand.  You type, half-holding, not

Looking, not really.  You type me

You type me, my name

I am Pron.

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Women’s potential…

In the modern world, women really could be in control.  Men are guided by infantile sexuality and fantasies of youth.  They are held up by women’s romantic beliefs in their suits and ties, for better or worse.  And while there are exceptions, most men are disappointing, and even if they do not think so, or do not see it, they are living the long slow end of their dominance.

Women are more reasonable, more able to make sensible decisions about things. Because they have an eye on their children, they are more likely also to pay attention to the needs of the world rather than getting into ego driven wars or destructive battles for power.  Again, there are exceptions.  But the trend is pretty obvious.  Men are at risk of being accused of stupidity, of sexual predation, of vanity, of just being immature….the worst thing leveled at women is that they fell for a romantic love story.  That is, they fell for their feelings…

If women do not soon take control, our world is in serious trouble.  I know there have been harsh and brutal women leaders.  But if some kind of matriarchal order does not assert itself soon, in the next century or so in other words, we are finished as a species.  The change is on, but will it happen quickly enough?  I am not sure.  I sure hope so.

Wild Wind, Wild Wind

“Wild wind, wild wind, blow me away.  I want to feel the shreds of my life torn away.”

And the wind blows, and passing windows rattle, and so I laugh, I try turning up my coat, and I curse.  Papers fly, packets flap and twist, trapped in eddies, then flying free.

I turn and turn, but cannot turn away.  I see a crazed cat hopping into trees, running in ever decreasing circles.  But still the wind shrieks, how it blows, and sounds low and low.

As for me, I trudge on, eyes stung, skin stinging, sleeves flailing in the air.

And so the wind blows, and sends my peace far, far away.  And I wonder where my joy is, this strange wind-filled day.