I will dress you

A Faded Romantic's Notebook

I will dress you

in chic black

high on the thigh.

Or in virgin white

angel pure.

Or in elegant


designer gowns.

Or in raw denim

tight as a skin.

Or crisp in cotton.

Or luscious in leather.

Or smooth and sensual

and sleek

in silk.


I will dress you

in a thousand ways

for the pure joy

of undressing you.




© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Written five years ago. Sometimes relevant

Art by Casey Baugh

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I Can’t

Writing With An Open Heart

My heart is broken in places where it can never mend.
Over a loss that can never be replaced.

I can’t go on forever waiting for you to notice what you’ve done wrong.

I can’t keep faking a smile,
And pretending everything’s okay,
When it’s eating me on the inside.

I can’t keep dismissing your mistakes,
Especially when you keep pointing a finger at every single decision I make.

I can’t stay quiet over the lies you keep repeating,
But I can step away so far,
Until you’re only repeating them to yourself.

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I See Them

Writing With An Open Heart

I held onto you as long as I could,
And maybe it was my fault for making excuses,
For the way that you behaved.

I held on because I loved you,
I engaged with your immaturity,
And your lack of support.

When things got tough ,
You ran in the opposite direction,
And stood on the wrong side,
Which hurt me in many ways.

It’s like taking that deep inhale,
And holding that breath until you suffocate.

Now that your true intentions have uncovered,
I see them!

I see the direction you’ve chosen,
And I’m ready to exhale.
I’m ready to let go.


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As We Grow Older

Writing With An Open Heart

As we grow older life teaches us to be responsible for our actions,
For the words we say,
And the way we react to certain problems.

Just because we reached a certain age,
It doesn’t mean we can say anything we want,
And it doesn’t mean that others need to respond quickly to every single word we say.

As we learn to live without our loved ones.
Hardships teach us to be humble,
To stop, breathe, and smile.

As we grow older we learn,
To navigate patiently through loss.
We learn to grieve silently in times of adversity,
Instead of pretending that we’ve seen it all,
And that we know everything.

As we grow older we learn,
To stop having tantrums when people don’t respond to our orders.

As we grow older we learn,
Not to laugh at other people’s vulnerabilities,
Because we all have them.

As we grow older…

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That Time Again – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon


Photo: wallhere.com

“The night walked down the sky with the moon in her hand.” Frederic Lawrence Knowles

That Time Again

Tilt for tat,
the ground shifted so,
it was that time again when
moon put on her evening wear
and danced a little anticipation
of solstice in advent of summer's
welcome return to evenings of 
wine and stars on cicada wings,
and thermal balm as love floated
so gauche with seasoned knowing.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Empty Pages

Walt's Writings

Empty Pages

It is difficult to write when you are in pain
when you just want the pain to end
so you can write

Empty pages stare back at you
Wanting your words to fill them
You can sense their hunger, the need to be filled

But your words are angry
And you have already written
too much angry poetry about pain

Chronic pain leads to blank pages
with nothing written on them
for days

You will feel better, hopefully soon
and your empty pages will be filled
with the loving words that make you

The Tennessee Poet

~The Tennessee Poet~
©Walt Page 2020 All Rights Reserved

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