Anthony Dawson

Anthony Dawson Poems

Early morning changes my colour,
Weakens my magnet for you to escape into sleep
I asked the girl in the corridor if she was a
Morning bird, she smiled then floated into the

Scanitly clad women roam the floors of nighclubs, hotels;
Expose flesh on the beach, materialize the lust in men.

Your shanty sits on a hill,

above filth below will.

Clouds are my moving treasure, free, abundant, looming

as grey death or simply washing clean a slate of trials.

Noises in the night under dark cloud skies

That keep missing the moon.


I was just dreaming of you.

Resist the temptation to yell
as this expression gets under my skin;
I shudder and my soul is disturbed.

I can't yet hear the grind of the factory
I have just woken and my heart is racing
My heart is a racing fuse
Today I begin life as someone else

Your face retains the remnants of yesterday
Your clothes and dwelling all entered this passage through yesterday
Yesterday is etched in your love

The quarry
A dangerous place
Scab on the earth
An operation of take

At least tomorrow I can sleep,

ignore the rapid fury of open eyes rasping my presence.

Every morning a woman comes and hand picks her rubbish -

Gems discarded by the elite of the city.


Cream laden valleys
Antarctic canyons and elevations
Whitest milk from the greenest fields;
Impossible neutrality

A woman stands illuminated by a single light,

shivers in a capsule as the cold night bites her ankles,


Again I enter where I have never been
Through the passage and into the world I create
What I create will again conceive a different tomorrow
A want of the better, and more of the unknown

Into the night the revellers dig
Not for gems or liquid power, comfort in another mouth;

A man I met
who likes the odd drink
Told me to believe only half of what I see and
nothing of what I read

Creating a horse with the floating clouds.
Upward vision into the path of super-jets.


my stained teeth,

Anthony Dawson Biography

Factory worker. Just completed Bachelor of arts degree majoring in English and History with a minor in Sociology. Next year will study Graduate Diploma in Humanities. Married with two small children. Trade Union Delegate. Thinker. Know well the plight of low paid workers.)

The Best Poem Of Anthony Dawson

Early Morning

Early morning changes my colour,
Weakens my magnet for you to escape into sleep
I asked the girl in the corridor if she was a
Morning bird, she smiled then floated into the
Lacquered afternoon
So easy for her
Does she know of her boyfriends addiction?

The sea has tempted me from Europe
I can't abide by words; they are forever changing,
Working towards a plot for some insane script.

The funeral of a small town
Don't send flowers
Donate them to guilt
Innocence once held power
Now, not even a memory can realise the coup.

Her eyes open
The bliss of her portrait is shelved
I wish I could resolve with her the teeth that chew
My requirements.

Anthony Dawson Comments

Anthony Dawson 25 July 2022

Just found out about your poems very good for a namesake Regards Tony Dawson

0 0 Reply
Anton K 09 November 2015

Don't listen to Ashley Olson - you are a very fine poet.

1 0 Reply
Ashley Olson 29 April 2005

Your poem Early Morning was interesting. It took me a couple of times to read it to understand it. However your type of writing style is just not my type. In my eyes your poem was alright.

0 1 Reply

Anthony Dawson Popularity

Anthony Dawson Popularity

Error Success