Category Archives: D/s

No more the red rose


I post this once a year. It is another of my favourite ‘performance’ poems.

I wrote it quite a long time ago now, one March. How and why it was written, and who it was for, the circumstances and the relationship, are a long story.

It was only ever intended to be read aloud, so I have just linked the audio.

Regulars will know it well, but some new readers may not. I hope you enjoy.




© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photograph by Little Cat Eye


Posted by on March 23, 2018 in D/s, Lovers Past, Poetry, Still Life


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His sheer walls

are hard to scale

and are truly not

worthy of the climb.

Yet strangely

they still come.


Some to save him

some to soothe him

some to steal him

some to seduce him

some to secure him

some to study him

and some to be his confidante.


Yet only those who seek

to serve him

are not certain

of disappointment.



I wrote and posted this a year ago. As much for the alliteration as anything else. It would be completely wrong of me to give the impression that there are many who would wish to make the climb. Or that it would be a worthwhile effort anyway.


© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Michael Whelan


Posted by on March 22, 2018 in Still Life, D/s, Poetry


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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 third outing for this poem written three years ago – no reason for reposting, except that I like it.

Art by Fabian Perez


Posted by on March 20, 2018 in D/s, Still Life


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A dream of you


A dream of you.

Your legs long on impossible heels. The roll and glide and shimmy as you walk.  And turn.  And dance,

A panther poised.

A gorgeous glide.  A sleek and sensual slide.

Your hair like a storm. Your body clutched tight in a sheath of a dress.

Peeled off slow.

Your arms raised.

Waiting for your wrists to be tied.

Your mouth, your lips, your teeth, your tongue, your breath like a warm breeze.

Calling me to rise.

Your perfect peach of a posterior pressed into my belly, into my thighs, into my hungry. bold tumescence.

A dream of you.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Written three years ago. And now I dream of you.

Art by Fabian Perez


Posted by on March 15, 2018 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life


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More than enough


You are you.


With your sweet heart

your clever mind

your warm smile

your rare beauty

your divine body

your submissive soul

you are more

than enough.


You are you.

You are mine.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Antonio Sgarbossa


Posted by on March 14, 2018 in D/s, Poetry, Still Life


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Thursday’s Child


Thursday’s Child


Well, I hear that you have been travelling

with a friend in an open-topped car,

and you revealed to him all your secrets

and you showed him your operation scar.

You painted his name on your mirror

with a lipstick glossy and red,

and you posed for imaginary photos

in the warm nest of your unmade bed..


He sent you a handful of spidery poems

that you captured with pins on your wall,

I read them when you were sleeping

and they seemed to make no sense at all.

Yet you recite them when you are bathing,

trailing your sharp nails over your thighs,

and you emerge mysterious and glowing

with a wild, vacant look in your eyes.


There is more to this than just attraction

or some strange late night trick of the light,

and you shouldn’t be reading his memoirs

in a dress that is so transparent and white.

And I fear that you’ve sensed a religion

in the casual, brave cut of his coat,

as you kneel so sublime at his alter

clasping tight all the letters he wrote.


Now I hear you’ve constructed a bonfire

from the things your sweet mother knew best,

and that you comfort his wide-eyed supporters

who sleep with their hands on your breasts.

But you never once give them the shelter

they crave when the light has grown dim,

and while you suffer the press of their bodies

you save all your mystery for him.


I miss you when the round moon is sailing,

I feel your caress in the turn of the tide.

it is as constant as the ache in my shoulders,

It is the sharp stabbing pain of your knife.

And oh, how I hunger for you to be near me,

your peeled clothes like a sea at your feet,

your pale skin tasting of salt and seaweed.

I’m a slave to your scent and your heat.


But if I plead with him to release you,

with just a snap of his finger and thumb

will you forget his smooth benediction,

or the velvet magic of his silver tongue?



I apologise to regular readers who have read this often – but it has been a year since the last posting. This is one of favourite my ‘performance’ poems. In fact it might even be one of the poems I am most proud of having written. And it was written many years ago. It started out as a song but I struggled to develop a chorus.  As I said, I have posted it a number of times before when this blog was even less popular than it is now.  It tells a story that was inspired by (my) real life events.  Because it is penned in the first person, the reader/listener tends to think that the narrator is writing about himself. Actually I was the writer of the ‘handful of spidery poems’.  

Do listen to the audio – it was a poem that is meant to be read aloud.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photography by Ines Rehberg.   Model is Megan Szczypka. I chose this photo because she is not unlike the female subject of the poem



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Gorgeous Girl


You are everything

that arouses me

excites me

inspires me

delights me,

multiplied infinitely

increased endlessly

all rolled up perfectly

into one

gorgeous girl.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Amy Lind


Posted by on March 12, 2018 in D/s, Poetry, Still Life


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