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Best Poems Written by Dominic Middleton

Below are the all-time best Dominic Middleton poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Dominic Middleton Poem

How To Ride a Bike

I read that book
When I was way to young
To understand
Its intricacies
The utter 
Humanness
Of the plot
The re-read
Left me
In a state of
Panic'an 
Bileness
Shreds my emotions
Like your mouth is
Just before 
Being sick
The helplessness
As the two
Plea for help
From each other
As madness
Slowly encroaches
As they cannot
Make head nor tail 
Of life
And what 
It doesn’t offer

The missing piece
Was just them
On my book shelf
All this time
It
Just there
Made a thousand
Curtains fall
And I
Just sat
On the floor
In awe
Of what stood beyond
Those curtain falls

Funny
It was telling me
Something was coming
A couple of weeks 
Of intense signs
Except the last one
Before
The falls
I hadn’t
Seen that before
Yet I
Have lived it
I have spoken it
I experienced it
In three years’, time

This insight
To life
Leaves me
Felling flat
As I totally
Understand
The full humanism
Of our situation
And why
It all occurs

I stand 
Atop a cliff
Above
The total madness
It
Holds my hand
And speaks
‘You discovered how to walk
Its time
To teach you
How to ride a bike’

Details | Dominic Middleton Poem

Hidden Beneath

Never did a fire so fierce
Blow across the land
That same land
His heart did grow
Nourished by his sweat and toil
No more
The morning mist
Will hear his weathered voice 
Call his horse
Com'orn
His mark
Has been scorched from its soil
And how that land
Greens, grays
And blacked haze
With gusts of wind
And rumpled hills
The fathering face
Of this dead man
Hidden beneath

Details | Dominic Middleton Poem

Old Mate

I have this burning desire
To find old mate
I want to sit
And chat with him
Under a Gum and setting sun
About what has come
And what has passed
Times of old
Places we’ve been told
Along the wallaby track
Signs of danger
Moments of charity
In the clarity 
Of a sinking sun
Places of sustenance
And rest
Oh, I would be blessed
Where one can find work
Earn a tin
And the shanties
Where they serve Gin
I imagine
I’ll catch up to him
Along that dusty track
With bed roll
Across his back
And a billy
Hanging slack
I’ll know its him
With his holey 
boots and hat
So when I can
I’ll ask that stranger
Have you seen old mate

Arm held up
As if to slay
What old man you talka about
I know nothing
This man you call mate
I know Giuseppe
Phillipa
And the Bishop
Mr Johnson
Down the store
Be off with you
Troublemaker
Or I set the dogs on you
They’ll rip your draws
And crack your jaw
Be gone with you
I say

With a lamenting sigh
I carry on
Dreaming of
That reunion
With old mate
Maybe on the western plain
Or somewhere near
The Pilliga scrub
I’ll catch up to old mate
Behind that setting sun

Happened this day
Up Queensland way
Came across a copper
Out of curiosity
I ask
Did you see old mate
Come pass this way
Stop resusting
He started yelling
I look behind
Surely can’t be me
He’s yelling
I look back to cop
That jaw crack
Stop resusting
He kept yelling
As I lay on the ground
As if that’s all he could say
With pleading 
Questioning eye’s
I look at his partner
For resolve
But me eye’s
Went blank
When her boot 
Hit the memory bank
Cowards
Was me last 
Thought

I remember
Old mate
His courage
His morals
Brave and true
How he ran for miles
To save that sick child
Those people
He swum too
From the stormy
Shipwreck
How he took the blame
For stealing
Bread and plate
The Japs
They did cut 
His head off
But even that
Didn’t stop old mate
A pillar
Of manliness
One could ever know

I asked some kids
With their heads
In a screen
Or was it a dream
I will leave you
To figure that out
Have you seen old mate
I asked
In an eager earnest reply
Do you know him
Yeah of course I do I said
We thought he got
Deleted
Or shadow banned
Never to be heard of again
As the screen doesn’t like the truth
Or men that are men
Can you introduce us
Or send us a link
Of course I will
I just need to catch up to him

Maybe he’s in the Kimberley
On the Gibb
Near Gekke gorge
Coming down
The old stock routes
Looking for a lost mob
Camping near the old tank
Listening to the chorus nightly
Where the stars
Shine brightly
I call out 
From a rippled ridge
Old mate 
Old mate
You their
You their
But no 
Coo-ee
In reply

An LNP bloke
Was in a blue stall
Well connected
He’ll know
For sure
Have you seen old mate around
Hmm
Not old mate
But old boys yeah
His red face lit up
Like he was Christmas clause
Tell him to come and see me
I have money for his draws
Did he work for you
I inquired
Roustabouting
Fencing
Bore runner maybe
Oh, no no
I just need to justify me budget
I’ll work the books
But 
what about the poor 
I ask
With a hearty laugh
And soulless smile
No closing the gap here me boy
He whispered in my ear
We need to keep those blacks
Held back
Know what I mean
No, no sorry I don’t
I couldn’t retreat fast enough
From that evil scene

So I hit the books
I know for sure
Bards of yester years
Knew old mate
And their he was
In all his mythical glory
Old Henry
He knew me mate
An old friend
That has dropped
Outta sight

Details | Dominic Middleton Poem

Bali On the Morning Breeze

Of the morning
The dry season breaks
Clouds open
And the rains
Comes down
From the nor east
The breeze
It brings
Bali mornings
I feel
I hear
I smell
Bali 
On the morning
Breeze

Details | Dominic Middleton Poem

A Quiet Camp

Give me
A quiet camp
In a remote national park
Any day
Over a caravan park

Where the snakes
Bake quietly
And roo's abound
Fleeting qlimpse'es
Of things between the gums
And dingos howl
From across the other ridge
With the setting sun

Give me 
A quiet camp
Out where
Bushman still roam
They stand tall
On a low hill
And watch
The goings on

Give me
A quiet camp
Where the silence
And cicadas
Are deafening
The stars
Shine brighter
Than any street lamp

Give me
A quiet camp
Where theres
No rubbish lying about
And white toilet paper
Dots the ground

Give me
A quiet camp
Where theres
No people around
And i will show you
The bush
Where animals abound

Give me 
A quiet camp
Out where the roustabouts
Made a push
Near where 
The dead men lie
And the pioneers
They still whisper 
On the wind

Give me
A quiet camp
So i can
Lay my head down

Details | Dominic Middleton Poem

The Condition of Man

I see the loneliness
In their eyes
The disconnect
With their old wife's
That make a play
Of lost love
To fool
Other eyes
I sit
On the end of there beds
Steer the conversation
To the interests
In their spare time
Smiling and laughing
About their true joys
The distant stare
Of old memories
Childhood places
Where paths have crossed
Where they have not
Reminiscing of another world
That slowly melted away
Unnoticed
Into adulthood
They speak of business
Failed adventures
Moments that
Nearly cost a life
The scars
That act as a calendar
To remember
Those years gone by
Each day
Some leave
Only to be replaced
By more
Sad, sick, tired eyes
I start again
An initial conversation
To gain clues
On how to proceed
I pray 
For protection
Impervious to depression
As I
Am sick enough
Yet I still find strength an time
To offer a little relief
To these
Tired, sick old men
I treat everyone as equal
Yet have realized
That not all
Are born equal
Something is missing
In them
I hear my own demons howl
And wonder
Did they not face enough adversity?
Did they stagnate?
Spiritually or in learning
What has stopped them
Acceptance?
Of self an life
I think of my own insights
Into self
Of motorcycle maintenance
And its great reveals
Or is it
As Nietzsche described

'A mans sole desire is his own comfort and is incapable
Of creating anything beyond oneself in any form or risk it all
For the sake of the enhancement of humanity"

Is this what stops them?
I don't know
Thou I try
Try hard to understand
The condition of man
I look around
At these old men
Graying
Fading
Gone

Details | Dominic Middleton Poem

To Pass

While i sit
In this Damp rotten cave
The cliffs to high
I tried
In vain
Low tide
Lets me see
Outside
For a time
Before breaking waves
Force me 
Inside
How many years
I've spent
In this darkness
This dampness
This rotten cave
No seaman
Should suffer
This torturest sentence
I know i am long dead
As the ships that pass
No longer have sail
My body
Now bones
Once strewn about the floor
This cave
The sirens
They come
On a low tide night
As i sit on the sand
Under a moon lit sight
Just outside
My crypt
My cave
My grave
They sing me
swoon me
Call me
To join my brethren
In the watery depths
I resist
The magic of there voices
As i am scared
Scared of what i cant see
Down in the depths
Of this rotten
Tasman sea
Scared
I will loose the memory
Of mum and dad
And the sister i had
The ports of call
The port i drunk
And the girls
Oh the girls
I did flaunt
From Frisco to Sydney
Bombay to Bengal
Tokyo to Hong Kong
I did them all
All the seven seas
And more
But thats all
All in the past
As i sit here
For the last
As i wait
Wait for the sirens
To sing me
To help me
Finally
To pass

Details | Dominic Middleton Poem

Does It Bring Back Memories

Yes
Wide eyed
And Oh
So small
Little man
He fits
In both my hands
I still know
How to hold
The little one
"Does it bring back memories"
Her question
Stayed with me
For days
Than weeks
Flowing along
Past
Distant times
In that
Expanse
Of memories
Times four
I explored
Cuddles
Hugs
The first
Fresh
As a field 
Of shinning sunflowers
If that's what you call
A Delivery room
Or humidicrib
Does not matter
Those cuddles
Are there
Fresh
As with the smells
Pinetarsol
Talc
Their hair
Blankets
And tears
Reaching
Reaching for up
With hugs
Those pains 
Away
Bed time
Hugs
Love you
Never
To much
But one hug
Eludes me
Can't remember
By four
The last
One
The last 
Time
I pick up
One of four
For a hug
A ritual
In love
Faded
Without
Within
Fanfare or acknowledgement
A transition
Without notice
Or
A reason to recall
That which
I cannot recall
Until now
So many
Years later
So many years
To late

Details | Dominic Middleton Poem

Tide and Time

Down in the depths
Of the old god sea
The world was yet to see
The love and beauty
Of thee
Proud and capricious
What punishment
Would be
For such Vanity
But marriage
To the blacken forge
Vulcan be
It wasn’t hard for 
The brave and handsome
Ares
To fall in love
with thee
Under the stars
With Venus an Mars
They met at night
But were betrayed
By a sleeping sentinel
Held down by chains
The lovers be
Mocked and spurned
Until the cock crowed
At dawn
Young forever
This Goddess from the sea
She chose to love
And love she did
More than one
By the sea
But one she loved
Was slain by a boar
And she
Slain by grief
With grief not suited 
For one so young
And beautiful
She loved again
And meddled in love
Not hers to be
She birthed many a God and hero
And a wonky eyed archer
Her descendants
A senator
That died
With many a knife 
In his back
( Oh, how history repeats )
Now you may ask
Why a poet
From the land of Dreaming
Would take on
A Shakespearean quest
To tell a poetic story
Of Love and Beauty
It just so happened
She became aware
Of a love greater than
Any she had experienced
That of 
Beauty and Truth
Time and distance
So one day in a city
Between the dessert and the sea
A wonky eyed
Chubby archer
Shot an arrow
That missed it mark
And hit my heart
Making me fall 
Down to Earth
And in love
A tragic love
With a descendant
Of Aphrodite
Whether it was a joke
Or a Horrible mistake
That arrow
Bridged the old Gods
To the new
But as she well knows
This is but just a brief
Tragic moment of flesh
Tide and time
Will see that arrow
Fall away
Like a hand let go
And set me free

Details | Dominic Middleton Poem

The Road To Kabul

The hustle of the
Khyber pass
Dusty 
Dirty
Traffic chaotic 
Pori’s border
Like the ground
Soaking up my foot prints
We move beyond
The bus is silent
In this barren landscape
I look upon the discarded
Shells of war
Interesting
I identify shells
From many wars
Like a walk
Along a beach
After a storm
An high tide
But the storm 
Still thundering
The vision scape
Has pockets of green
So many gums
I could be back
In Oz
A brief stop
Jalalabad 
The men Decant 
I stay
Watching
Looking
Out the dusty window
Engrossed in what I see
The woman and children
All start talking and laughing
At once
The sudden noise
Makes me Jump
I look around
But all I see are ghosts
But free
The influence 
Of men
The men return
So does the silence
We move on
We pass a check point
Then stop
Beside a green river
I sit on the bank
Smoke some hash
With old Coco
He looks just like
The old cameleers 
From the pioneers
We can’t converse
But I feel
A gentle heart
War tired eyes
Mountains loom
Around us
We are about to make 
The push up
To Kabul
We join a convoy
Of trucks
So many trucks
All going up
And up
And up
Never been on such
A huge mountain
And such a narrow
Road
I look down on the
Shells of trucks
That didn’t make it
Up or down
Horns blare
Dust stings my eyes
But I want to see
If I am 
About to die
We plateau
And loose the convoy
Cruse toward Kabul
We stop at the
Biggest refugee camp
The atmosphere is
Stressful
Angry
Suffocating
Claustrophobic
Like a humid
Wet season day
I can’t wait to leave
Continue we do
The end is here
The infamous 
Soccer stadium
Blocks an blocks
Of rubble
The end
Of the road
To Kabul