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Monthly Archives: November 2014

I will not miss you

Alter of Worship

I will not miss you

I will not miss you when winter darkens the sky and snowflakes kiss my skin. When the fire burns bright in the hearth and the candles flicker their yearning ghosts upon the wall.

I will not miss you when spring breaks the soil with green, and silently buds the shivering trees. When pale hearts are made bold by the rising sap and cupid’s sweet festival.

I will not miss you when summer spreads itself before me in wild and glorious heat. When my skin feels the sun caressing it like a lover, like an angel, like a pretty girl.

I will not miss you when autumn reminds me of solemn promise stolen by sad circumstance. When the rain trickles down my cheeks and beneath my collar and hides my stupid tears.

I will not miss you

I will not miss you

I will not miss you

.

,

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Jack Vettriano

 
32 Comments

Posted by on November 28, 2014 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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Bringing Peace (once more)

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She is not sure why she is special.

She thinks that perhaps he flatters her.

She peers at herself in the mirror. She studies her own familiar face and seeks signs of beauty. She pulls in her belly, throws back her shoulders and pushes her breasts forward. She turns sideways and examines herself. She smooths her hands over her hips and round to the swell of her arse,

She runs her fingers through her hair, shakes it out then lets it fall about her face before stroking it back again.

And then, for one proud moment, she glimpses it.

The wide, eloquent eyes. The sensual mouth. The elegant throat. The cascade of hair. The desirable, sexy, made-for-sin body.

And she smiles. And glows.

But there is one thing that she cannot see. And yet it is the thing that excites him even beyond her beauty and curves.

It is the pure, sacred heart of a sexual submissive

And while her body promises a thousand dark and delicious delights

It is the submissive that brings peace to a Dominant soul,

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Jack Vettriano

This was a year ago. But I have always liked it. So, with the excuse of added audio, I have re-published it

 
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Posted by on November 25, 2014 in D/s, Erotica

 

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On romantic love

For what it is worth, my perspective on romantic love, written a while ago – but my thinking has not changed

A Faded Romantic's Notebook

massimopolellobllueheartsplit

When we are young we think romantic love will conquer all.

We want it to dazzle us, overwhelm us, thrill us, glorify us. make us immortal. We long for it to sweep us up, enrapture us, take us in its arms and be happy ever after. We believe it will be the guiding light in our lives.

If we are lucky enough to find it, we discover it is indeed beautiful, magical, and breathtaking. It is pure heaven. We cherish it, nurture it. We want it to go on forever.

We expect too much of it.

We soon discover that it can also be flawed, capricious, one-sided, cruel, jealous, bitter, unforgiving, short-lived and illogical.
Sometimes it barely makes it through the summer.

It hurts us because we believed in it, and we trusted it.

Now we are older, we are wiser. We know that it can fool us, betray us…

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Posted by on November 23, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

My Mistress Again

sexy_guitar_by_libellchen

My guitar called me to play with her.

I lifted her gently.

I placed her upon my lap, her side upon my thigh, her body against my chest.

I stroked her smooth curves lovingly.

I placed my long fingers, tender but firm, around her neck and caressed her strings. She vibrated softly to my touch. I whispered to her and lightly fingered her frets.

I coaxed her into song.

Delicate at first, becoming more rhythmic and louder as she found her voice,

I strummed her with passion. We roared together.

She rose and fell against me. Singing, laughing, crying, wild.

My mistress beneath my hands..

I imagined she was you.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from Libellchen

If this seems familiar it is because I posted it a year ago. But I’ve added audio and that seemed a good enough excuse for publishing again.

Oh, and wishing she was you …

 
22 Comments

Posted by on November 21, 2014 in Still Life

 

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Shut

heartland83

I am a sensitive soul.

Perhaps too much for a man.

I sigh at beauty. I am enchanted by charm. I can get lost in a look.

I cry at sad movies, often glad of the dark.

I am a romantic, Sad songs in my ear buds. Black and white films in the winter. Meetings in steamy window bookshop cafes, walks by the swan-gliding river, dinner in the flickering light of whispering candles.

A message on my phone that ends in a kiss.

I am a dreamer. A poet. Someone who will never forget the press of her lips.

And sometimes, only sometimes,  I am a fool.

Yet for all that, if I am hurt, I can become as hard and as cold as a Siberian frost.

And the doors to my heart

Slam

Shut.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Anne Magill

 
22 Comments

Posted by on November 19, 2014 in Still Life

 

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Already bruised

Today seems the perfect day for a poem about parting. I posted this just over a year ago. When lovers part the pain is never shared out equally.
I didn’t replace the dodgy sound recording – listening to it again today was one of the few things that has made me smile.

A Faded Romantic's Notebook

SONY DSC

I will suffer this memory

Through countless,

sleepless,

endless nights.

Goodbye

hanging in every silence.

And me

Clinging on bravely

With my yearning fingertips

Seeking solace

In any smile.

And you

Your eyes

full of parting

And your lips

already bruised

with another man’s kiss

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from the web – uncredited

(my apologies for my the recording – hoarsely unwell and accompanied by a creaking, rambling house)

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Posted by on November 18, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

Perhaps One Day …

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I have her beauty hard-wired into me

I have known it forever.

My first school boy fantasies were of her. She has never changed. The same hair, eyes, mouth, chin, nose. The same height, weight, posture and stance. The same shoulders, breasts, hips, arse and thighs.

The same mix of swagger and vulnerability, of shyness and chatter, of independence and submission, of contemplation and fun

Her beauty is burned into my soul.

And I have found her

and owned her.

Once, twice, even three times.

Almost.

I keep looking. Although my time here is running out.

Perhaps one day ….

.

.

© this author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez

 

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21 Comments

Posted by on November 16, 2014 in Lovers Past, Still Life

 

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