12 days after Christmas

On the first day after Christmas my true love and I had a terrible, terrible argument and she threw a variety of pots and pans at me, so I strangled the Partridge and burnt down the Pear tree that my true, my true love gave to me. Things didn’t get any better by the end of the second day, when she started throwing plates at me like Boomerangs, and so, in a vicious frenzy I took ou...

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Christmas Acrostic

Christmas is something beauitful for me and
Has a subtle magic in it which
Rains down on you softly
Instead of screaming or
Swearing at you
That makes even the most minor thing
Mean everything
And creates hope so that it
Springs out of misery.

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Poems published on poemhunter

Dear all; Have had some poems published on poemhunter.. http://www.poemhunter.com/andy-n/poems/

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Now and then

Now and then

I want to tell you

I am something different

To what you think I am.


I want to hold your hand

Now and then

And look into your eyes

Before turning away

Suddenly just to confuse you.


Now and then

I want to write love song

After love song

For you

And keep writing

Until the skin starts

To fall off my fingers.



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love poem

Womb Sunrise

Dear all;

Will be starting off another sequence shortly here, but 
have had a brand new poem published on Writingraw
called Womb Sunrise 




Why not have a peek???




Andy N 


P.S. - Don't forget the A Means to an End book launch with

Jeff Dawson (aka Jeffarama) on Tuesday 15th November


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A Means to an End book launch (Andy N and Jeff Dawson aka Jeffarama)

Me and Jeff Dawson (aka Jeffarama) with our friends in 'A Means to an End' (Dave Hitchen, Petrova Fairhurst and Alan Gray) will be launching our first joint book 'A Means to an End' at Chorlton Library on Tuesday 15th November 2011 from 7pm - 10pm.
Admission is free and support will come from Gemma Lees and Rob Goodier, both of which will be reading from their own recent collections. 

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The End of Summer (IV)

Coastlines and Arcades
turn grey
and shutters on gates
dangle in the wind
like clapping hands.


Leaves carry themselves
across the road
like they are mourners
looking for a funeral,


until the nights and days
sink into one
making it appear
that nothing will rise above
the tip of the horizon.




Nothing but the coldness
of the air
which makes the kiss

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the end of summer

The End of Summer III


After Summer,

Autumn is always brushed

Under the carpet

Like a half-baked afterthought

Before the winter arrives

With its blanket

Of snow rolled blues.


At the beginning of Autumn

There is a hesitation

In the breeze

Before the clouds

Darken the sky

And poison us slowly

With mustard gas.


There is a sadness

In the half c...

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the end of summersummer

The End of Summer (II)

The End of Summer II 
In hindsight,
it wasn’t just the soft,
cold perfume
of the breeze.
Wasn’t just
the change in weather
nor Swallows
which had gone East
instead of south.
Autumn hadn’t
built itself up
as it normally did
but fell unexpected
from the skies
choking summer
until it fizzled away.
Autumn burst through
without reas...

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The End of Summer (I)

Soon Autumn will be here with it's dusty and driving breeze across fields from the back of your house where poppies would previously dance with you now spit in your face. Autumn will hold your hand when you run to the train station every morning jagged with purpose like it was famous for 15 seconds. Soon Autumn will be here and on the road again with leaves dangling in...

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My hometown


You used to tell me
You only loved my town
When it poured it down.

You used to tell me
You used to love
Counting all the drops
That would dangle
Off my roof
Once it stopped
Like it had a mind
Of it’s own.
You used to love looking
At leafs clinging
Onto the old tree in my garden
And count their lines
Like veins on hands
Which also dripped off

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Ticket to Ride (Blackpool Mystery)

 Random moments
bring portals of memories.

Random moments

bring fragments of peace.

On dust covered dunes

lost in the drones of the sea,

or looking at you

looking aimslessly out of the window.

Watching Candy Floss

dance across the sea.

Listening to bus wheels

stutter like stray thoughts.

Looking for ...

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Leaving Belfast

Leaving Belfast


Leaving Belfast

I remember you in Bookfinders

On university road

As you pulled out

One book to look at

And the full shelf

Collapsed on you.


It shames me now

I remember more

About your Scott Walker LPs

Scattered all over the floor

In a huge circle

Which you would

Constantly play

Over and over

If you were ...

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Summer is Here

The skies has

quickly gone grey

and it looks like

it could burst into

a heavy rain storm

at any given moment. 

Summer is here. 

The wind is sneaking

through your coat

like knives

and the birds have

already gone back

down south.

Summer is here.

Umbrellas are lined up

blown inside out

like the great wa...

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Every morning
while you sleep in my arms,
I try to avoid
looking at the dawn
been struck from the skies
like candles blown out
one by one.

Every morning
I try to avoid
looking at the dawn
while you sleep in my arms,
and the breeze
dances across the other side
of your spluttered curtains.

But every morning
I lie hidden beneath your hair
on the edge of ou...

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Lost Shadows

Lost Shadows
Shadows were lost
like horses lost at
the end of a painting.
Shadows were lost
at the top of an hill
like a debt of honour.
Paradise lost.
Death soiled.
Shadows were lost
across trenches
treasuring the sun
without speaking its name.
without telling the full story

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Spring is here

Spring is here
with blue skies
following us home
from work every night
like a loyal pet dog.


Spring is here
with a rosy twang
in the air
instead of an ice cold shiver
that chills you
to the bone.


Spring is here
with people throwing
their coats over their backs
and opening up
the windows on their cars.


Spring is...

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Up on the Roof (Strangeways)











By all accounts It was little more than a protest. By all accounts It was little more than a protest But all I saw was The slates been Tossed off the roof. All I could hear was Them crashing Onto the floor With a element of surprise And the buzz of the guards Who were running Around below Like headless bees. All I c...

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Job InterviewsStrangeways

Spring is Coming

Spring is coming

And faces were pressed

Flat against the windows.


Spring is coming

Breathless and touching

From a distance.


Spring is coming

Like a child

Which is deep inside.


Spring is coming

Like a long lost love

As the sun sneaks

Past the windowsill

In the morning.


And over the shoulders

Of your sleeping be...

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Perfect Place

I don’t want to wake you
When you’re sleeping so quiet
on my shoulder.

I don’t want to brush your
Hair back down from your face
or turn down the stereo.

I don’t want to sing in
the rain nor do I want
to sail away into the sunset.

I don’t want to close the curtains
and shut out the moon
Shining down on us
Like we are in the spotlight
of some imaginary film.


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love poem

Before the Curtains Open

Before I open the curtains,
close your eyes
and listen to the
soft, almost
invisible breeze
sneaking in and out
of my window still.

Before I open the curtains,
listen to the nervousness
of my every touch
as I gently blow
over the tip of your hair
so it feels
like an imaginary comb
stroking your head.

Close your eyes
and listen to the branches

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