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Tag Archives: Hamish Blakely

The yearning

 

Sometimes

you feel it

in your bones

in your skin

in your heart

in your soul

in every fibre

of your being

and you know

it is what you want

it is what you need

and nothing

will stop

the yearning.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Hamish Blakely

I wrote this last year. But there is always a yearning ….

 
2 Comments

Posted by on July 26, 2019 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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If this was not this

 

If this

was not this

but was a bar

beneath the stars

where couples sway

to soft and sensual

guitars

I would most certainly

ask you

to dance.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Hamish Blakely

 
4 Comments

Posted by on July 12, 2019 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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Spotlight

 

You are the girl

I want

dancing

in the spotlight

of my desire.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Hamish Blakely

Not a brand new post. But you are the girl I want ….

 
7 Comments

Posted by on July 11, 2019 in D/s, Poetry, Still Life

 

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I am the sound

 

I am the sound

of your comfort zone

expanding

your horizons

extending

your limits

evaporating

your inhibitions

vanishing

your tastes

broadening

your taboos

tumbling

your barriers

all crashing down.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not new – but I am always the sound

Art by Hamish Blakely

 
2 Comments

Posted by on July 3, 2019 in D/s, Poetry, Still Life

 

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Post performance blue

 

It is over.

The noisy applause has stopped ringing in my ears.

The congratuations, the handshakes, the patted shoulders, the compliments, the hugs, the kisses.

The kindness, the warmth.

The heat of the spotlight, so hot on my skin yesterday, is now cold.

We have taken our final bows. The curtain has closed.

The adrenalin has worn off. The high has evaporated.

It has left me low.

I can still almost feel our last embraces.

I miss you. And you.

And especially you.

It was special.

It is over.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Hamish Blakely

 

 
21 Comments

Posted by on June 30, 2019 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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Three weeks

 

It is three weeks exactly to dress rehearsal.

It is not London. Or even a provincial theatre. It is a tiny venue in the heart of leafy England.

And it is not a great play. In fact it is far from a particularly good play.

But none of that makes it any less challenging or demanding. Or compelling. Or exciting.

Especially as I am never offstage throughout its ninety minutes, and my character has much to say.

The set is still under construction. It is going up around us – each rehearsal we arrive to the smell of fresh paint, and discover there has been further construction of our temporary reality. New props arrive, replacing what was makeshift. Whisky bottles and glasses, a desk, a leather sofa, a gun. We try on costumes. We see the newly printed programmes and know it is real.

I am becoming used to using an American accent that would never convince a native.

The reserve that members of the cast felt when we first assembled has melted away. Playing our parts, we touch, we flirt, we argue, we laugh. We fight, physically and verbally. We shout angrily. We look into eyes with passion and longing. We kiss. We have become the people in the script.

And as we practice and perfect, we encourage, we support, we help, and sometimes, we disagree.

We depend on each other, and we believe in each other. We have become close, as always happens.

It is three weeks exactly to dress rehearsal.

In another life, this would have been my life.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Hamish Blakely

 
8 Comments

Posted by on June 5, 2019 in Still Life, Uncategorized

 

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High

 

I have been high

on the bottle,

the rich taste of red wine in my mouth

blackberry, cinnamon, tobacco, leather,

Another glass, and another.

And perhaps another.

Until all I know is crimson liquid.

Then brandy or port or absinthe.

Or all three.

Pour me out of a taxi and take me home.

 

I have been high

on acid.

Pills, blotting paper, microdots with happy, hippy names.

Colours bleeding into surfaces into shapes into light.

Music holy with new tones and textures to touch.

The revelations, the meanings, the weird,

finding a new religion in a carpet.

The warm fade and glow

of coming down.

 

I have been high

on adventure,

on exploration, on discovery, the wild, the different, the strange.

On art, on words, on music, on performance, on poetry.

On the strings of my guitar.

On winning, on deals, on negotiation.

On a high-five finish

On landscapes, seascapes, lucky escapes.

On the lights on the harbour twinkling like diamonds

On snow, on ice, on powder.

On that feeling, at the end of the page

when everything

is perfect.

 

I have had

a lifetime of highs

but nothing

absolutely nothing

not a single thing

comes close

to you.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not the first time I have posted this. Sometimes one finds a new high.

Art by Hamish Blakely

 

 
7 Comments

Posted by on May 2, 2019 in D/s, Poetry, Still Life

 

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