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Monthly Archives: March 2015

Stable – Reprised

naked girl on horse

 

Stable

.

We shall meet

in the close, cramped,

tack-room dark where,

for almost an hour

I have shared the tight space

with saddles and hats,

bridles & bits.

.

The pungent odour

of horse and leather

and something sweeter

has made me heady,

has made me dizzy,

has made me hard

and tight in my jeans.

Waiting for you.

.

I can hear the horse

in the next stall

noisily shifting

his fifteen hands

on thin, muscular legs.

Hooves striking concrete

through soft smelling straw.

.

Your favourite mount

is soft mouthed

and compliant,

alert and responsive

to your hand on his flanks,

and your weight on his back,

your legs astride,

your legs open wide,

open so wide,

forgive me,

so wide.

.

I am leaning against

a smooth wooden table.

In the musty dark

my fingers have found

a dozen deep carvings

of passion and lust,

scratched in the wood,

ingrained with dust.

Names and arrows

and irregular hearts.

I cannot find ours.

Why can’t I find ours?

.

The surface is full

of today’s coats and tack,

still damp from the hack

still fresh from your back.

My throat tightens

as I breath in your smell

and the muscles of my stomach

dance beneath my skin.

I want to begin.

I can’t wait to begin.

.

I have your crop

clutched firmly

in my hand.

It swishes and cuts

through the silence.

Tested on my thighs

its unexpected bite

makes me cry out aloud

With my eyes tight shut

I brush my face

with the whip,

with the loop at the tip.

I imagine its hiss,

its hot stinging kiss

its fierce burning kiss.

Just a flick of my wrist.

.

A rhythmic swishing

through the razor edged grass

signals your arrival.

Whinnying horses

confirm your presence.

And now, at this moment

my shirt feels clammy,

my breathing is unsteady.

My heart beat deafens.

I clutch at my chest

Be quiet.

Be quiet.

You must not hear me,

until I am ready.

Until I am ready.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

I’m not sure where I found the photograph years ago, but to whomever, my apologies. I will remove it or credit it if you contact me.

Stable was inspired by my antique riding crop that I must admit in recent years has seen more action on delicious, submissive female behinds than on the flanks of equine mounts. My then lover was a keen rider and I remember waiting for her one early evening in that leather-rich tack room dark ….

Stable is one of my favourite ‘performance’ poems – by which I mean it was written to be spoken aloud rather than just read. Old blog friends will know this poem far too well but hopefully will allow me the indulgence of re-posting it once again.

 
16 Comments

Posted by on March 31, 2015 in D/s, Erotica, Lovers Past, Poetry

 

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When I lose her

 

Dancer_6_by_Tatalia

When I lose her

And it will be soon.

I will not allow my eyes to know tears. or permit my heart to feel pain, or give my voice leave to howl at the careless moon.

I will not show grief, or exhibit sorrow, or display my suffering through a torrent of bleak and ruined words.

I will not linger over her image, or reread her messages, or recall the heady days when her beauty and her body and her dreams belonged to me.

I will only smile and gently let her go.

Truly glad she has found someone

to make her happy.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from Tatalia

 
14 Comments

Posted by on March 29, 2015 in Still Life

 

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Wine Sea

Red_Wine_by_MYvonne

 

Lately I have been under a wine sea.

I soak myself in rolling, predictable waves of grape and alcohol.

I descend through warming, comforting, forgiving crimson liquid.

I submerge myself in the burgundy darkness.

Until all the music and words, laughter and tears rush in on me.

I recall memories of love and loss, feel the heat of ancient fires, touch ghosts of past lovers, sense the movement of dancers.

I begin to believe in beauty. That one day she will return.

And in the distance I hear a single. solitary, achingly sweet voice, calling my name.

It is me, when I was young…

Lately I have been under a wine sea.

I let my mouth fill, my throat fill, my lungs fill, my belly fill, my mind fill, my soul fill.

Until I swallow an ocean, consume a vineyard, drown myself completely.

I will not be dry again soon.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from Myrna Jacobs

 
15 Comments

Posted by on March 28, 2015 in Still Life

 

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I wrote poems for you

Test of True Love

 

I wrote poems for you

 

I wrote poems for you.

Some were bold, burnished, bright.

They praised your beauty, your body.

Burning for your

brilliant mind.

 

I wrote poems for you.

Some were sweet, silky, soft.

They were sensual, sexual, seductive.

Seeking to steal

your sacred heart.

 

I wrote poems for you.

Some were yearning, wanting, craving.

They were aching, thirsting, needing,

Longing to draw you

into my arms

 

I wrote poems for you.

But they were just wasted

unwanted words.

You were always

someone else’s girl.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Jack Vettriano

 
23 Comments

Posted by on March 26, 2015 in Lovers Past, Poetry

 

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There is a woman

 rose_by_don_paolo

There is a woman.

She walks this earth.

I have not met her, although I once came close. I have barely seen her, though glimpses have thrilled me. I have never spoken to her, although I swear I can hear her sweet accent in my head. And in my dreams.

I do not know her perfume but her scent thrills me. I have not touched her but can almost feel her skin beneath my finger tips. I have not looked into her eyes, but feel light-headed at the thought.

I have not owned her, but the hunger to do so consumes me.

There is a woman.

She walks this earth.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from AntekPyra

I wrote this quite a while ago now. It was plagiarised by someone unscrupulous. I am posting it again because I suddenly remembered it when I started writing a post today that began ‘There is a woman ….’

So I trust you will forgive the republishing – this time with audio.

 
27 Comments

Posted by on March 25, 2015 in Still Life

 

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Addiction

Art by Jover

 

Addiction

.

The uncaring night will take me

And oppress me with its heat.

Leave me wide-eyed and sleepless

In a tangle of tortured sheets.

.

Since you became my addiction

I have wanted no one else.

Only to see you dance before me

I have longed for nothing else.

.

The over bright dawn will find me

And burden me with its hope.

Leave me confused and restless

Tied up tightly in my own rope.

.

Since you became my addiction

I have wanted no one else.

Only to see you dance before me

I have longed for nothing else.

.

The relentless day will trap me

And unsight me with its glare.

Leave me wandering and helpless

Your distance has stripped me bare.

.

Since you became my addiction

I have wanted no one else.

Only to see you dance before me

I have longed for nothing else.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Loui Jover

Regular readers will recognise this. It was written and recorded some years ago, yet sometimes it seems to have enough resonance to bear another posting.

 
12 Comments

Posted by on March 23, 2015 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry

 

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I am not a holy man

In the half light

 

I am not a holy man.

But I will touch your brow

as you kneel before me.

I will whisper a prayer

to your beauty

and your body.

 

I am not a holy man.

But I will hear your confession

in the sacred darkness.

I will sing a hymn

to your sweet heart

and submissive soul.

 

I am not a holy man.

But I will place my hands upon you

and anoint you with oil.

I will bless the moment

of your conversion

that carried you

here to me.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Anne Magill

 
19 Comments

Posted by on March 19, 2015 in D/s, Poetry

 

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