Andrew Price – A conversational poet steps into deeper waters with a piece rooted in memory, empathy, and the grit of real life.
There’s something immediately engaging about Andrew Price. By day he’s a qualified lawyer; by night – or whenever life gives him a spare moment – he’s a poet of the everyday, gathering the small details most of us sail past. His work isn’t dressed up or weighed down by traditional poetic form. Instead, it feels lived-in: conversational, instinctive, and rooted in real people and the ordinary moments that reveal more truth than they let on.
A lifelong music obsessive, Price grew up treating album sleeves like literature, reading lyrics with the same intensity that others reserve for novels. That relationship with words – intimate, rhythmic, grounded – forms the backbone of his writing. He’s been jotting down lines for as long as he can remember, first on scraps of paper and now in the notes app on his phone, catching phrases before they drift away.
Since stepping into the spoken word scene in 2022, he’s become a familiar voice on stages across the country. He’s competed in slams nationwide, winning Manchester’s One Mic Stand, headlined Shakespeare North’s Scratch night, and appeared in Liverpool’s Give Poetry A Chance anthology in 2024. It’s a trajectory powered by curiosity, not ego – the natural outcome of someone who genuinely loves the craft.
Price’s process is simple: start with a line, see where it goes, then carve it into shape later. The poem you’re about to encounter began with one such phrase: “Those with the least give the most.” It stuck in his mind, and as he followed it, the poem took on a political edge, a shift away from the humour he often leans into.
What emerged is a tribute to the people he grew up with – a celebration of resilience, generosity, and the unspoken strength of communities that give far more than they ever.
Those With The Least Who Give The Most
Those with the least give the most,
It’s a phrase that’s stuck with me since my knocking on front doors collecting for charity days,
Lanyard and clipboard on the high street days,
Ignored by most but realising that those with the least always gave the most.
I’ve thought about it lot, recently.
Watching out of touch politicians on morning tv.
Y’see those with the least who give the most,
go through a daily struggle and fight,
to survive in a life,
where chances are few and far between,
and just being comfortable – nothing too extreme- is the dream.
Not to live hand to mouth week by week,
when sometimes there’s only enough for five days.
When some days there’s people amongst us who can’t eat unless they go to a food bank for a meal,
and the hunger they feel,
is as normal as the tiredness they have in the mornings,
when the blanket feels damp from the cold.
It’s the ones who help others before they’ve help themselves,
throwing a pound in the help for heroes bucket on their way to search the supermarket shelves,
for food with yellow stickers that’s almost out of date,
so they can go home and put food on their own kids plates.
When they can’t afford to top up their pay as you go leccy and gas, Cos their wages are a mess,
They don’t have what they need but they’re doing their best,
While others in the same country are inherently blessed.
Still those with the least battle on,
Sharing what they don’t have whilst being creamed by the people at the top.
But Those who have the least that give the most,
are this country’s soul, humour and backbone.
It’s in their desperation to escape when good musics made,
sports stars are born,
and hero’s are formed.
Without being too political or critical of concepts,
And whether it’s on the left side or the right,
It can’t be denied that people who have the least but give the most in this country,
are being treated like shit.
