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Tag Archives: these dark desires

Real

 

I am not a shadow

nor an invention

nor a character created

for a virtual life

to inhabit scenarios

of make-believe

role play

and pretend.

.

I am not a projection

a fantasy

a construction

of someone

I would like to be.

.

I am not just

an avatar

I am corporeal

of flesh and blood

a heart that pumps

a mind that thinks.

A hunger

that burns.

.

And if I should play

a game

in any way

in any context

it is always

for real.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Written and posted this time last year. Still true.

Art by Jack Vettriano

 
2 Comments

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

 

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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

Art by Hamish Blakely

 

 

 
17 Comments

Posted by on April 25, 2017 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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Like a drum

 

The sound

of your name

spoken aloud

by strangers

or written

in the pages of a book

or immortalised

in the words of a song

never fails

to make my heart pound

like a drum.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Posted on here a year ago, but who is counting?

Art by Loui Jover

 
5 Comments

Posted by on April 24, 2017 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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‘Oh’

 

If I told you

how much

I want you

desire you

ache for you

yearn for you

long for you

need you

to belong to me

body and soul

then your eloquent lips

would form

a perfect circle

as you say

‘Oh’.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Mihail Korubin Miho

 
5 Comments

Posted by on April 23, 2017 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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Like gunfire

 

I absolutely love

the staccato sound

of confident high heels

exploding

like gunfire

across an expensive

expanse

of polished

marble floor

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

The art is supposedly by Rob Hefferan, but I have my doubts (Thomas Saliot?)

 
4 Comments

Posted by on April 21, 2017 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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Swollen

 

She has filled

my thoughts

like a wind at sea

billowing the sails

of my imagination

with her promise

until I am taut

and swollen

with desire

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

First written and posted a year ago.

Art by Alan Ayers

 
2 Comments

Posted by on April 20, 2017 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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Awaiting instruction

 

She finds herself

waiting

aching

longing

yearning

for his explicit

instruction,

for the certainty

of his control,

knowing the way

her body

will respond

with an urgent spike

of naked desire.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by William Oxer

 
4 Comments

Posted by on April 19, 2017 in D/s, Poetry, Still Life

 

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