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ohn Richardson

J

Poet,
publisher
& software engineer

aka  jay Arr

Home

P

UBLISHER

IMPpress, my home based in Broadtown Wiltshire, UK) is one man, publishing company that has been producing poetry e-zines, books, pamphlets and workshop materials for over 16 years.

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E-zines

The IMPpress was first published in 2011 as a quarterly, free to read, on-line, digital ekphrastic poetry e-zine.  Each edition had an invited artist and poet. The poet was invited to respond to the artists work. Contributing poets could expect their work to be illustrated using free images sourced from the internet by the editor. 

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Books

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Pamphlets

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Instructions for viewing a publication's contents

Click 2x on an icon to open the publication.

The first click opens a new page on the publisher's website.

The second click will open the publication in page-turn mode.

To enable browsing the pages can be turned by

clicking on the > at the right hand side or the < on the left hand side the publication.

About

A

BOUT ME

I've been designing, creating and managing: network solutions, company-wide and personal software applications, websites, publishing poetry, conducting workshops, readings and writing poems for over 50 years. 

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Now retired, my occupations are grandfathering, poetry and writing web applications. 

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RITICS & MENTORS

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Brokenbrough
Poets

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The Round Robins

Subscribe to Start the Week with a Poem

Thanks for submitting!

S

TART THE WEEK POEM 

Poetry is what in a poem makes you laugh, cry, prickle, be silent, makes your toe nails twinkle, makes you want to do this or that or nothing, makes you know that you are alone in the unknown world, that your bliss and suffering is forever shared and forever all your own."  
Dylan Thomas

 

November 2022

and then I could dream

As I watch him and his twin sister twirl

and whirl around, lost in each other, lost 

in their music, arms raised outstretched

as if in supplication, as if in flight 

 

I see again those majestic cranes 

dancing on ice; where balletic couples 

assemble’ to impress, bodies arabesque, 

pirouette and chassé. You’d think 

 

having under-winged the Himalayas yesterday, 

the day the twins ran a 5Km P.B. for charity, 

they’d all be content to dance a slow waltz 

At Last by Etta James, and then

 

I could dream a dream that I can call my own

of cranes, of twins, dancing together and alone.

07

14

At the top of the stairs, we pause. 

Unsaid, the question of going down

standing or sitting, squats

on the step between us. 

 

And there’s the complication 

of who is to hold the cars. 

But then I’m commanded to

Sit Baba, sit.

 

Side by side we begin 

the bumpy slide.

No holding hands, 

he’s on his own.

 

And as we slide, 

step at a time,

I wish the stairs 

would go on forever.

A decision made by Isaac aged 2

fabulous creatures

because you have been dreaming, the page’s white emptiness expands,  

there are undreamt possibilities beyond its edges,

 

with the twenty-six you can circumscribe a world on this small sheet, 

prescribe a cosmos before breakfast and your grandchildren, 

 

asleep in the other room, whose futures already exist, the constant worry 

under your pen, are busy inking their stories into who they are to become, 

 

and could be for all you know, adrift in another reality, thinking like you 

of fabulous creatures, their children’s children into being.

 

And what anchors you to them, 

to this chain of possibilities, is perhaps your past and now 

 

these small marks on paper like the oars’ dip and stroke,

with a sail hoisted, the loadstone’s star to steer a course already set 

 

it’s not the transience of moonlight’s wake on the ocean. 

It is your dreams. 

21

FOR A 

WOMAN 

WITH NO 

SIXTH SENSE

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                                    That           

                                    pricking

                                    you   never 

                                    felt  under your 

                                    thumbs  was me 

                                    spiking your  old 

                                      love    letters.    My 

                                    poems  I  folded   into 

                                    origami boats, windblown, 

                                    when   the    delicate   hairs 

                                    on

            your neck failed to rise. But it was not that breeze, 

              but my lips brushing yours which gently blew   

                         the   fleet  out  to  sea.

Subscribe

and get a poem to start the week each week

Thanks for submitting!

S

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  • is a free website application that delivers a managed, fully functional, poets' workbook.
  • is OS and browser independent has comprehensive, context sensitive, help pages and instructional videos. 
  • includes Competitions, Magazines & Publishers lists that are regularly updated
  • poems can be categorised, tagged, filtered & sorted, and linked to external sources; the application will automatically manage competition entries, submissions to magazines & publications as well as readings.
  • is benign, functioning with & alongside your poem documents.
  • requires only a single data source - your poem titles
  • has a 'try before you use' demo facility
  • is GDPR & ePR compliant
  • does not make tea or other hot beverages
Contact

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ONTACT ME

  • Comment on my poetry, publications or the website.

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  • Send me a request for a poem or to give reading.

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  • Drop me a line if you'd like to become a hummingbird early adopter.

Thanks for submitting!

(44) 07966 243620  

© John Richardson - April 2024 - Proudly created with Wix.com

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