To dream

Art by William Oxer


When midnight

wraps its arms around me

I will chant your name


so no one else

can hear.

Only you

when laying down

your lovely head

to dream.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by William Oxer


Posted by on August 26, 2016 in Poetry, Still Life


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I will use you

Art by Marcos Beccari

I will use you

Every inch of you.

Your luscious skin, your gorgeous hair, your cheekbones, your eyes, your nose, your mouth. The elegant line of your jaw, your throat, your neck. Your sensual curves, The stunningly sexy shape of your breasts. Your nipples (so easily aroused).

Your back, your belly, your arse, your legs, your ankles, your calves, your thighs. Your arms, your hands, your fingers, your feet, your oh-so-prettily painted toes.

The delicate, exquisite, perfect folds of your sex.

I will use you.

Your glorious curve of your smile. The joyful, soft peal of your laughter. The way you move, the way you eat, the way you talk. The way you say my name. The way you dance. Oh god, the way you dance.

I will use you.

Your thoughts, your hopes, your dreams, your imagination. How you analyse, how you consider, how you (sometimes over) react. The way you care. Your honesty, your loyalty, your charity, your generosity, your charm. Your temper, your obstinance, your tenacity, your strength. Your sometimes stubborn frown. Your warmth.

Your tears sliding hot and unchecked down your lovely face.

I will use you.

Your clothes, your shoes, your scent, your make up, your jewellery. The toys you keep at the back of a bedside drawer.

Your music, your books, your art, your films. The (often rubbish) things you watch on TV. Your work, your hobbies, your interests, your exercise. How you spend your days. Your food, your drink, your wine.

The things that excite you, arouse you, frighten you, sadden you, disturb you. The things that make you want to be hugged.

I will use you.

Every amazing, challenging, wonderful, infuriating, incredible, shy, breathtaking part of you.

Everything that makes you unique, rare and special.

I will use you.

And I will write you.

My heroine, my fantasy, my main protagonist, my key character.

The star of the show.

The woman at the very heart of it.

And you alone, all by yourself, will make it magnificent.

You will turn my untidy jumble of words

into a masterpiece.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Marcos Beccari


Posted by on August 25, 2016 in Still Life


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Art by Francine van Hove

When the world

is torn by conflict

starved by greed

betrayed by belief

brutal with hate

it is enough to know

that you,

my angel,

are safe.



© the author waiting as Romantic Dominant

Art by Francine van Hove


Posted by on August 24, 2016 in Poetry, Still Life


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Hey, that’s no way to say goodbye

Art by Fabian Perez

Time has become liquid

There is seven of them. They have escaped work, the conference, the day. Comfortable in each other’s company. safe in the velvet night that hovers beyond the candle light, romantic at an outside table beneath the awning sky of a restaurant just off La Rambla. The evening is drenched in intimacy and alcohol. They are gently, sometimes noisily, submerged in a warm sea of easy acquaintance which sees them laugh, and chatter, and tell stories, and become friends.

It is getting late. It will be an early start for all of them to travel home to their various countries. Yet clocks mean nothing. They want the time to stretch and yawn, but not show its hands.

But they must go.

He starts to sing. An ancient Leonard Cohen song of leaving that he has known forever from someone else’s life. His voice is hesitant at first, but deep, rich and dark. The others are quiet. Perhaps they do not know the words, or are happy for him to touch the night with the poetry they feel. There is sorrow in the song, but gratitude for what has been shared.

Her voice joins his on the ‘many’ in the fifth line. It is pure and innocent and holy. It lilts and drifts above his own.  It harmonises and caresses and then soars and swoops. It glides and caresses, softens and lifts. It thrills the air, and him. She is an angel from a heavenly choir.

As she sings with him he watches her. Her green eyes stay on him, her brave, almost slavic features are heroic and lovely, bathed in the flickering light. A mane of thick blonde hair cascades over her shoulders as she tilts her head towards him.

They reach the close and improvise an ending which dances, then tumbles, falls, and finally soothes like a lullaby, achingly into silence.

It is a rare moment. There is a hushed, almost electric pause before the others applaud and nod appreciative heads. He smiles at her, and she smiles back.

They have become connected, combined, kindred, allied, confederate.



I will always remember the beauty of your voice, the magic of that moment, and the joy of our union that night.

And the memory

of ‘your hair upon the pillow, like a sleepy golden storm’.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez

I first wrote and posted this two years ago. It recalls a true event that happened in my past. This song always reminds me of that night. I hope you enjoy it again. And this early recording of the song itself.


Posted by on August 23, 2016 in Lovers Past, Music, Still Life


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An Open Letter to a Fake

Type = ArtScans RGB : Gamma = 2.000

Type = ArtScans RGB : Gamma = 2.000

This is an open letter

It is addressed to  – someone on Facebook using my pseudonym (Romantic Dominant) and stealing my words.But in many ways it is addressed to all those who believe that to steal the words of another and pretend that they are their own is acceptable behaviour. It is not. It is theft. It is also deeply sad.

Dear fake

You have chosen to steal my name and my words. You will hopefully understand that I am less than happy about this. I believe it gives me the right to share publicly some of my thoughts on your personality and motives.

I have to say I was initially surprised to see you had stolen first of all my name, and then so many of my words. Even though you are not the first. I suspect you will go on doing so, even though so many people know you are a fraud. But having thought about it, I realise you have no alternative. I will explain why in a moment.

First of all I’m going to make some assumptions about you. You will find them disturbingly accurate. I have an extraordinary sixth sense.

You are male, somewhere between sixteen and early twenties. If you are still studying, then it will not be in a creative subject, and it is certain that you are below average at whatever educational path you have chosen. If you are working – whatever field – engineer, cleaner, cook, medicine etc – you are nothing special. You are never the one who gets praise from your boss, or is ever highly regarded by your colleagues. Mainly you go unnoticed.

You are heterosexual and certainly like women. Sadly, women don’t like you. It is not that you are particularly unattractive. You simply aren’t interesting. You are dull with no sense of humour. You don’t have a girlfriend. You may just possibly may have had one, but it did not last. She left you.

You are enthusiastic sexually – but are inept and lack control, skill and variety. You ejaculate prematurely.

You don’t have many friends of your own sex. You are the guy who everyone forgets to invite anywhere.

As a result you are lonely and unhappy.

Your Romantic Dominant Facebook page is probably the only place where anyone pays any attention to you. It is the only place where you have gained any respect, or applause, or anyone takes notice. The buzz when you get a ‘like’ is a rare ray of sunshine in your life. A shot of adrenaline. It makes you feel good. And special. That is why you can’t stop and won’t stop.

The trouble is that no one is ‘liking you’. They are ‘liking me’. The persona and words they praise are not yours. They are all mine. Like all plagiarists and word thieves you have no talent. You simply have nothing to say.

To your ‘friends’, followers and readers, you simply don’t exist. Your page is all about me, not you. It is my mind, my words, my desires, my instincts, my hopes, my dreams.

You have no identity

You are a nobody

A nothing.

And what’s more, should you interact with anyone directly they will know immediately that you cannot possibly be the man who writes the verse and prose on your page. Your mediocrity will be exposed. And, like everyone else in your life, they will simply walk away.

And you will be surprised to know – I pity you.

Romantic Dominant



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez


Posted by on August 22, 2016 in Still Life


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Last Straw


Some of you will know that I have been plagued by sad individuals stealing my words and, even more infuriatingly, stealing my identity.

Another cockroach crawls out of the woodwork

I cannot understand it. It is beyond me that someone can have so little self-esteem and self-worth, Sadly WordPress, Twitter, Facebook and Instagram do nothing to protect writers and I am worn down trying to stop these pathetic people from plagiarizing my words and my identity.

I am taking a break and will decide if I really want to continue to have my work abused in this way.

If I do not return, thank you to everyone who has read my words over the years and has been so kind and supportive.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez



Posted by on August 14, 2016 in Still Life


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Heavenly Trade

Art by William Oxer


I craft my word.

I adore


and guide you.

You bestow your beauty

your body

and your submission.


We are both enchanted

by such a heavenly trade.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by William Oxer


Posted by on August 13, 2016 in D/s, Poetry


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