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Monthly Archives: March 2017

Breeze

 

The wind

is sailing clouds

singing in wires

rippling ponds

sounding chimes

making trees dance.

 

I imagine it

playing in your hair

tugging at your clothes

lifting your skirt

and caressing your thighs

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not new, but perfect for today

Art by Loui Jover

 
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Posted by on March 31, 2017 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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Attraction is a mystery

 

Attraction is a mystery

What is it that captures, captivates and compels?

What is it that draws us, like iron to magnet, bee to honey, moth to light? What is it that makes us warm to another, need to make contact, need to be in their presence, or simply make us catch our breath when they come close?

Is it in their eyes, or their mouth? Is it the arc of their smile? Is it in their height, their weight, their curves and lines? Is it in the colour of their skin or their hair? Is it in their laughter, or their voice, or their words, or the intelligent mind within?

Is it in their honesty, their truth, their empathy, their kindness, their compassion, their hope?

Is it in their movement, their balance, the way their body moves when they walk? Is it in the clothes they wear?

Is it in what they do, what they like, what they believe?

Is it in their beauty, and the beauty they see around them?

Is it in how good they make us feel?

Is it something we instantly see deep in their soul, something we recognise and know? Something that touches our own?

Is it that we sense they will complete us?

 

Attraction is a mystery.

Even after all these years I cannot explain it.

But I do know

I am deeply attracted to you

by all of the above.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Hamish Blakely

 

 

 
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Posted by on March 30, 2017 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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My mark

 

The thought of you

carrying my mark

secretly

upon your perfect

naked skin

hidden beneath

the clothes you wear

to the office

in meetings

at your desk

in conversation

with others

arouses me

pleases me

and makes me proud

in equal measure.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art (I think) by Thomas Saliot

 

 

 
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Posted by on March 29, 2017 in D/s, Poetry, Still Life

 

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Set the fire to the third bar

 

 

There are some songs that haunt you. They touch you and you don’t know why. And then someone happens and you realize it has been waiting for the moment, for the person, for the situation. This is one of those songs.

This song is by Snow Patrol, a Scottish band who I am sure you will know. But this isn’t one of their really big successes. It was recorded with the talented Martha Wainwright and is on the excellent 2006 album Eyes Open.

It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. It fills me with sadness and longing.

 

“Set The Fire To The Third Bar”
(feat. Martha Wainwright)

I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from ‘A’ to where you’d be
It’s only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I’d find your face
My fingers in creases of distant dark places

I hang my coat up in the first bar
There is no peace that I’ve found so far
The laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science

Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like music to me

I’m miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
I, I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms

After I have travelled so far
We’d set the fire to the third bar
We’d share each other like an island
Until exhausted, close our eyelids
And dreaming, pick up from
The last place we left off
Your soft skin is weeping
A joy you can’t keep in

I’m miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
And I, I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms

I’m miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
and I, I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms

.
.
Set the fire to the third bar – written by Gary Lightbody and performed by © Snow Patrol, and Martha Wainwright.
This post © the author writing as Romantic Dominant – Part of a series of songs I like but you might not know.
 
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Posted by on March 28, 2017 in Music

 

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No more the Red Rose

 

I am in a low mood.

It is that time of year.  Fast approaching another birthday. Another mark of fading.

And there is another reason,  which is not for explaining here.

This poem is the favorite of all my performance poems. It was written one March a number of years ago when in I was in a similar place. It was only ever intended to be read aloud, so I have just loaded the audio.

It is that time of year.

And it is that kind of day.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photograph by Little Cat Eye

 
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Posted by on March 27, 2017 in D/s, Poetry, Still Life

 

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I wrote poems for you

 

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

This the second outing for this poem written two years ago – no reason for reposting, except that I like it.

Art by Fabian Perez

 
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Posted by on March 26, 2017 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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Walks this earth

 

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

Art by Steve Hanks

This is by no means new. I wrote it at least three years old. It has been plagiarised a number of times, which I am told is a compliment.  I like it very much. And one thing I do know for certain – there is a woman who walks the earth….

 

 
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Posted by on March 17, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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