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Connections

There are meetings

connections

and conversations

that seem full of portent

full of promise

full of premonition

unusual and special

from their very first breath.

.

Yet there are others

that appear innocent

with no significance

or implication

or intuition

until much later

when hindsight shows us

how momentous

those inauspicious

innocuous moments

really were.

.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Art by Dan Witz

 
9 Comments

Posted by on January 9, 2022 in Uncategorized

 

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A holy season

lonely_road_by_diginoobsi-d34ahxt

A Holy Season

.

It is a holy season.

Cruel winds

shrill at the corners

scrub my face raw.

I hear a choir

dying in every gust.

.

It is a holy season.

Ragged chanting

from the perennial faithful

to celebrate birth.

.

It is a holy season.

Merciless children

torment the purses

of betrayed mothers,

extracting promises

like teeth.

.

It is a holy season.

Her head rests

blind

on my shoulder

leaking tears.

Her dead breath

is captured

in my curls.

.

It is a holy season.

I will undress it,

blue-fingered torture

from collar

to spine.

.

It is a holy season.

Licking thin lips

fresh with the taste

of salt and blood.

.

It is a holy season.

The meek

dream of inheritance

while the mighty

steal the shirts

from their backs.

.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Written during a bitter winter long ago when I lost my heart, my words, and the last tattered remnants of faith – in religion, in politics, in big business. In the time since I wrote this the rich have become far richer all over the world. And much more skilled at lying, cheating, bullying and stealing. Hence Trump, Johnson and many others.

It has become a ritual for me to post this every year. An antidote to the commercialism and tacky sentimentality that the season swims in.

photograph borrowed from diginoobsi

 
2 Comments

Posted by on December 24, 2021 in politics, Still Life, Uncategorized

 

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Those which touched me

Playing Piano

 

Those of you who have read me for a while will know I listen to a great deal of music. My tastes are broad, from rock to jazz, hip hop to blues, R&B to classical, opera to indie, and many genres in between. And I enjoy music from all over the world.

I listen to a lot of new albums and these are my fifteen favourites from those released in 2021 that came to my attention. Each one, in its own way, excited, moved, touched, impressed and delighted me.

They are not in any particular order:

Sons of Kemet – Black to the Future

Wolf Alice – Blue Weekend

Little Simz – Sometimes I might be Introvert

Arooj Aftab – Vulture Prince

Lana Del Rey – Chemtrails over the Country Club

Nubya Garcia – Source + We Move

St. Vincent – Daddy’s Home

Swindle – The New World

The Killers – Pressure Machine

Mdou Moctar – Afrique Victime

Lana Del Rey – Blue Banisters

Nick Cave & Warren Ellis – Carnage

Arab Strap – As Days Get Dark

London Grammar – Californian Soil

Self Esteem – Prioritise Pleasure

 

If you ever get a chance to listen to any of them, I hope you enjoy.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic

Photograph found on the web, source unknown. If yours, please advise and I will remove or give credit.

 

 
6 Comments

Posted by on December 22, 2021 in Music, Still Life, Uncategorized

 

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As Woman

art-by-marcos-beccari

If I was a grand architect of design.

If I was the master of texture, colour, shape, style and beauty.

If I could mould and fashion and forge personality, intelligence, sensitivity, sensuality, generosity and strength.

If I possessed the perfect, potent power of pure magic

If I was a wild-eyed cosmic genius with a boundless, endless, limitless imagination.

If my creativity dwarfed and humbled every artist, scientist, writer, sculptor and mathematician who had ever graced the planet.

Even if I had dominion over all things

I still could never create a creature

as unique

and as extraordinary

as Woman.

.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Marcos Beccari

I first wrote and posted this a number of years ago – and as every year passes, I know it more. And adore.

 
6 Comments

Posted by on September 28, 2021 in romance, Still Life, Uncategorized

 

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From afar

Art by Marcos Beccari

You are a distant land

One I will never reach. Never touch. Never fully claim.

And yet I want to know your geography.

Every inch of your tempting, tender terrain.

I want to uncover your lovely, luscious landscape.

Study you from each perfect, precious, peerless, perspective

Map your marks, covet your curves, lust over your lines, ache for your angles.

I want to discover you,

I want to uncover you

and cover you

with words.

I want to be thrilled by my journey to the very heart of you

adoring you

wanting you

worshipping you

from afar.

.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Marcos Beccari

Not a new piece by any means, but perhaps it will touch you.

 
 

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Someone ….

…. is either reading me intensively, post after post (which is very flattering) or stealing my words on an industrial scale (which is pathetic).

All I know, for the moment, is they are from India.

 
23 Comments

Posted by on July 25, 2021 in Poetry, Still Life, Uncategorized

 

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Incitement to rape?

a99278_sexual-assault_4

I have published this post five times before, but there is never a wrong time to post it again.

First posted September 1st 2015

Sometimes I get serious

It seems an ageing female rock star recently suggested in an interview with one of our sad excuses for a serious newspaper that women/girls who dress provocatively should expect to be molested – or worse – by men.

I can only believe she was misquoted – I haven’t read the article so I will give her the benefit of the doubt.

But let me be quite clear.

What a woman or girl wears is entirely her business. It can be sexy and revealing. It can be wild and kinky, It can be ‘slutty’ and sultry. It doesn’t matter. It is entirely her choice. It is her choice to make without fear of harassment, without threat of misogyny, without the danger of some sad prick believing it justifies any attention at all beyond silent admiration.

How a woman acts is equally up to her. If she wants to be a vamp. a princess, a tease, or a kitten she can. If she wants to get, drunk, stoned, utterly out of her mind it isn’t a cry for some mindless moron to take advantage of her, or see it as a come-on, or as an excuse to say she has got it coming to her.

So if you are a man who has so little control of himself that he thinks every scantily clad girl acting outrageously gives him the right to force himself on her, then I would suggest chemical castration is probably too good for you.

And if you are a woman who looks down your nose at someone of your own sex who exercises the freedom to be herself, or thinks that girls bring it on themselves, then all you are doing is colluding with the apes.

In a case of rape (or sexual assault) the woman or girl is never, ever at fault.  Even if she changes her mind at the very last minute, that is her prerogative, her choice, her right.  If a man ‘cannot stop himself’ then he is no more than an animal and deserves to be treated like one.

There is never, repeat never, any justification for rape or any form of harassment, nor can any action by a woman ever be considered as incitement.

At some point I shall give my perspective on those who bleat and argue that ‘immodesty among women is against our religion, or is not part of our culture’. Attacking that misogynist, hypocritical, bullying shit deserves a whole post to itself.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo taken from Pinterest. Unsure of source. If it is yours please let me know and I will remove or credit.

 
 

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Summer Dress

I see you

in a summer dress.

Thin straps on elegant shoulders.

Your breasts captured sweetly.

The curve of your hips caressed.

Your arms and legs beautifully bare.

The hem high on your thighs.

Your hair is caught and stroked by the soft, warm breeze.

Your skin is kissed by the friendly sun.

Your gorgeous eyes are shining.

Your smile is heavenly.

Yet you are shy

as the dress falls

like a cotton sea

at your feet.

.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Vladimir Volegov

Written six years ago – but it is a time for dresses – and removing them

 

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International Women’s day and sexual D/s

 

Some might have been surprised by my tweet on Twitter earlier today.

Perhaps for a number of readers it might seem an unusual, even an unlikely thing, for a man who is ‘hard wired’ to sexually dominate, control and ‘own’ women to write like this. I shall explain in a moment.

But first of all, why do I find women so incredible?

Basically, because no matter how badly, unfairly, carelessly, cruelly, immorally, and disrespectfully we men have treated women down the centuries, women have not bowed to brutality, persecution, discrimination, patronization, and thoughtlessness. Even when today – even in the ridiculously called ‘first’ world – the situation is still oppressive.

  • The major religions all denigrate, marginalize, and subjugate women to a lesser or greater extent.
  • Pay levels across the globe have been kept universally lower for women. (Even in ‘enlightened’ Hollywood male actors still earn more)
  • Men still occupy the majority of key and middle positions in government and business. There is no real equality of opportunity.
  • Sexual crimes, harassment, intimidation, and sexually inappropriate behavior are still institutional almost everywhere. The previous President of the United States (Trump) is a clear example of it. There is still a belief among many men (and sadly some women) that rape can be justified or excused. It can never be under any circumstances. See here.
  • Men are often allowed to walk away from the physical (and often financial) responsibility of fatherhood, expecting women to rear children. And regardless of whether the man is there or not, the woman is still often expected to take on the majority of childcare, running the house, and go to work.
  • Even in the USA in around half the states there is no legal limitation on the minimum age of the bride.

I could go on. Forever. Some things maybe are better now than they were once. But it is truly miserable. And the pace of change is glacial.

But despite everything women have bravely battled and fought, and are still doing so. And they are proving, at last that, if there is a more resourceful, adaptable, intelligent and braver sex – then women are it. Because to succeed in living fulfilling and happy lives in such a misogynist and hostile environment takes far more than most men will ever give credit, or even attempt to understand.

And where does D/s – as it relates to me – sit in all of this?

It has very little to do with it.

Sexual D/s is a consensual act or agreement between two people where one gives up their sexual free will to the other. The reason they do this is because it arouses, excites and completes them. It is the way they both are. Of course a Dominant or a submissive can be a man or a woman and vice versa.

But if there is one thing about D/s that does relate to all I have said in this post, then it is this. If any male Dominant thinks he is somehow above, more important or better than his female submissive then he really needs to take a long hard look at himself.

Because he has clearly lost the plot.

And proved my point.

Women are more than equal to men.

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I wrote this, and the tweet, four years ago. I re-post both today. Much has happened in the last twelve months, and perhaps the tide is turning. But it is a massive ocean that needs to change.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art from UN International Women’s Day promotional material 2017

 

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My doctor has examined me

Type = ArtScans RGB : Gamma = 2.000

 

My doctor has examined me

He is man of great learning and deep understanding.

He is old and wise, and certificates on his wall attest to his vast and eclectic knowledge. Anatomy, psychiatry, psychology, neurology. Surgery, geometry, chemistry, philately, campanology.

He took deep soundings from my pulse. He listened carefully to my heart. He examined my body with clever hands, the strength of my muscles, the structure of my bones, the conductivity of my nerves, the light in my eyes. He considered tendons, ligaments, cartilage.

He had me listen to indistinct sounds. He made me recall half-forgotten scents.  He insisted I recite my darkest poetry.

He made my reflexes dance

He asked me questions, recovered my dreams, investigated my hopes, pondered over my expectations. Asked pointedly about my exercise. And my patterns of sleep.

He explored my diet, my sexual inclinations, my sensual desires.  My abuse of tea. And alcohol.

When he was done he sat me down and faced me. His brow was furrowed, his mouth severe. His chin was set firm. He was serious in his approach. He was careful in his diagnosis.

He shook his head sorrowfully, and with his fat fountain pen wrote slowly upon his pad. He solemnly handed me the page.

My doctor has examined me

He is a man of considerable reputation. I trust him completely.

My doctor has examined me.

My doctor knows what ails me. He knows what has laid me low.

He is certain of the only thing that can make me well. His recommendation is precise and unequivocal.

My doctor has prescribed me you.

It is a repeat prescription.

Of unlimited dose

To be taken as often

as I require.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

I wrote this five years ago. But It made me chuckle so much as I penned it back then, I have decided to post again now.

Art by Fabian Perez

 
 

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