I forgot that I had had a few poems read out on the Web until I accidentally stumbled on one of them today on an American site.
Here they are:

A narrative piece called : Her Remorse &
another romantic poem called When You Come To Me.

ok...at least, I don't feel such a moron of a writer now. :-)

All you have to do click on "Click to Listen" and you can choose from Real Player or Windows Media Player. Someone else is reading my work for me.

After a Quarrel is also mine but I had forgotten my byline. That's how silly I can be sometimes. :-)

I posted a little children's rhyme today on my Wordpress Site. I feel enthralled as I have never showcased my writings together in one place before.

I do have other writing plans but will wait till something is accomplished before I say anything. If you read me always; thank-you, and please be patient for my new blog where I will go on about things again as I used to.

Factory Hand, my Wordpress site for fiction and poetry. Until I've posted up a new blog, please go here if you would like to read any of my updated writings.

However, my work is not mainstream. It is not commercial writing and features very little drama or action. The tone of my words are set so low, they may appear stillborn, crawling about painfully like soldiers in a firing line and measuring only a calm sedateness at best.
The result is that my writings may deliberately hover between dullness and obscurity. Picture a dim torchlight or a dying candle. Just so you know. :-)

On Bookshelves.

I wrote this for the Guardian books blog on a thread that discussed thoroughly modern shelves:

I think a library of sorts, always speaks for the collector's personality.

Certainly, there is some odd zig-zagged beauty with the scattered arrangements of my own motley finds. My cherished titles like old friends - not having to explain oneself to - hover, haunt and wait expectantly by, eager to relive once more, an experience or episode for a reader's joy.

Who can beat that priceless amusement of replaying a chilling murder plot that may just be the recommended antidote for a glum winter's day or perhaps the diligent scan of dog-eared pages at the remembrance of a favourite sonnet or dramatic scene jolted by a long memory.

I couldn't possibly get rid of such fabulous moods and moments and that too with the immediate poignancy that attaches itself like clockwork, to any given hour of a repeated read.

I took out yesterday's post. I think it was because I was born on the wrong side of Gemini.:-)
I do outgrow things very quickly. My life is hardly routine and I have lived in different places and lands for a long time. Because of this I feel that my interests evolve dramatically to make me a newer person every few months than I was the year or two before. My thoughts, perceptions and ideas are constantly changing.
Right now, it's Ireland. And I'll be returning to London for a spell and also taking a holiday in a different country sometime this spring. Then it's back to Ireland for a bit.
My focus is so totally on my writing and reading at this juncture.
I also love magazines in the way of the Architectural Digest, Vanity Fair and any number of literary reviews. My magic creaky bookshelf accomodates all. :-)
My somewhat and earlier apprehensive love for and interest in the opera and classical jazz, has been magnified.
I like the Arts and am also interested in cuisine.
In that way, I feel I've outgrown this blog which captures phases of my life that have already passed. I live in the moment and hardly look back to the past so I feel everytime I come here that this blog is obsolete.

What I'll do is keep on with my Wordpress Site with which to regularly post my fiction and poetry.
I'll also open a new blog to write on a deeper love for books, to tell you about any writing developments in my own life and also I think to capture my other interests of the present day.

I'll do this in a day or 2 and paste the links up here.

After that, this blog will be discontinued.

My Wordpress site

I added in 2 more shorts of earlier writings on my experience of a winter in Dublin. I like the edgy mood that's slowly sprouting up. I re-wrote one of the shorts. I'd like my site to be a place for my writings featuring words I've remembered from the past, words I've adored and also the new stories I'm writing now.
I am besides this, contacting people and posting my manuscripts out for print. It's just comforting for me finally to have an online site that features some creative work...something that defines's an artist's rightful position and goes beyond the normal blog post.
That's important to me right now.

I've opened a Wordpress site to feature my fiction and poetry.
My first poem is on icicles.
Comments on my site is currently closed.

DISTRUST

In candour and with reproach,

I hasten to question the possibility,

a denouncement for myself,

seeking inquisition to the spirit.

You swear puzzlement, so

with integrity ensured in

moving limbs and the slow turn

of my aching head, I ask what is it about

you, I meant to inherit

for the universe of my life.

- suzan abrams -

A monologue...

It all feels a little mad with the juggling of tasks that I accomplish in my head. With exuberance to contend with, contentment backs away bearing in its wake, the ease of a subdued conjecture and suddenly, I am of the illusion that the world is at my feet for any ambition and any plan that doesn't break the law. So blow the whistle on me if you must 'cept I wouldn't care a might.
Somewhere in the back of my mind and in recent days, tranquility took its bow for revelry. I see no clown's face but the real haphazard smile of my own...no paper crown to a wise man's hat but the jester's cap in my drawered soul. My writing tasks are tossed upside down no matter how carefully I police them to sense...they playact children splashing up a fountain that may have sprung a leak or rocketed to space. Frankly, it all feels like sailing on a ship that cannot make up its mind either to swim or sink and as for my dreams, it may just have to float along the Milky Way.
I may be disordered but happily so.

I say, I say, watch me hang the laundry in neat straight lines although my clipboard marked "Things to do" stay scribbled with lines and scrawls and the dash of squiggly cancellations that may have looked like a report card gone all wrong.

There is lovely, warm sunshine that hails the cool fresh air in Dublin today, wouldn't you know, even if marked by the gatecrashing trespass of a freezing winter snap that doesn't care if you ice your bones in your bed.
So when you go out to play on this thrilling sunny day, don't forget the umbrella, mind! A fireplace and sweater are still best friends. After all, the sullen gale's not one to be kind.
As for me, I must write with might to save my pride.

I want to write about all the obscure reads I've been buying in strange and silent obscure places. The new hardback titles that fight for recognition on my resurrected bookshelf. And of how I listen to the opera and ballet in the mornings and of how a celebrated orchestra can wake me up like no cornflakes may have mastered the triumph. And then too, of how super it was in recent days that the Guardian and the Independent had printed free collections of poetry which included Philip Larkin, Ted Hughes and Edgar Allen Poe. Could buying the papers have been such fun? It needed treats to go with it like lollies and cups of tea.
And there was the scandalous V.S. Naipaul where in spite of his brilliant genius so bewitched me with his loveless marriage and tolerant loyalty that only added to torment, I had to buy the Daily Telegraph and spread its long telling sheets in my lounge...words that masked the daring extracts of the new Naipaul biography. What fun! What fun! But oh...whatever happened to the sun?

Notes

It's been a long holiday weekend and I've been up and about. Tomorrow's a bank holiday in Europe because of Easter today and last Monday was also a bank holiday in Ireland because of Saint Patrick's day. There's been so much celebration about the place that everything is only now just coming down to earth. I am just back after a couple of pints at The Palace Bar in Temple Bar where my partner and I were treated to some live traditional Irish music in addition to all the noisy banter. The mood was rather subdued as revellers recover from a leftover party trail...and they only have tomorrow. The next big holidays in Ireland are in May. Mother's Day (Mothering Sunday) was also celebrated early on in March, whereas Asia and Australia still look forward to it in May.
Most of the stores reopen tomorrow.
I've been working on some new fiction and poetry for my writing site (which I haven't yet opened) but which will probably be on Wordpress. I've also been trying to think of an appropriate title. It's quite exciting.
I sent a short collection of new poetry to a site that's free - it doesn't pay writers but publishes their work online, thoughtfully and with some pride but competition is so tough these days that even that's not easy. You have to wait to hear from an editor and maybe it will just be a no. Mine came back in the affirmative however but I'm required to post the manuscript by hard copy, sign under each single poem and also show a social id to prove that's it's really me, writing all that poetry. I find the whole episode fascinating as to how internet editors now protect themselves from fraud - and I think that's clever indeed -but anyhow, I'm glad that editor said yes. It's a promising start as it was my first submission out for new work. At the moment, my head is abuzz with a lot more writing I need to send out if I want to be back on the playing field. That means putting my nose to the grindstone all this week. :-)

Notes

My life is pretty cool these days...my biggest problem is probably trying to sit still and fit in a steadfast writing routine.
I also feel that there aren't enough hours but I can get through the day now on between 5 to 6 hours of sleep. For someone like me, there is still much to do and to accomplish.
As I have determined to come through obstacles and probably without realising it, chose the way of the spiritual; I've often probed deep and with painful candour into my inner self for what would form my present and future. I've not been disappointed. My soul unfolds...hesitates a little apprehensively and unfolds again.
Dublin is magic. :-)
But the present result is a great thirst for literary reads and non-fiction with a philosophical bend. I've also developed a strong interest in cooking, cuisine and my love for the opera is unfolding mercilessly. I have been reading opera magazines and listening to concerts to try and understand the subject a little more. I also have a growing interest and new appreciation for interiors using wood or homes which feature a new age theme. I plan to get out more to matinees and plays. At the moment, it's been the cinema.
I am thankful for the little things and then the big things come.
I am still trying to figure out my new fiction and poetry to showcase on a new blog and to write on deeper literary aptitudes. I will start on these things in a day or 2 and if I don't use this blog, then will definitely place the links of where I am, over here.

I have been thinking of a new way to express myself through a blog where I am primarily the writer and no longer the blogger.

At one time, I was always writing professionally. Then I didn't write anything creatively - meaning poetry or plays for about six years.

Later, I opened a blog to experiment with my craft once more. I found that I could still write my stories and poetry in a new way. At that time, I was very interested in blogging as an art form and thought it was a great way to make friends. But really, there were cliques and groups...and you had to conform or be prepared to stay on the outside of things. It is possible if you're not careful, to wander into the hateful malice of strangers like a lamb to the slaughter house.

On hindsight, that's really what happened especially with one or two of the bigger groups I got caught up in which turned out to be an unpleasant experience and it wasn't even worth the trouble because now when I look back, I think what a stupid fuss, considering I never believed in their ideals or cared for their smugness in the first place. Isn't life just too short? In fact, I don't find them of any importance to talk about with the exception that unfortunate online episodes still form valuable lessons.

After awhile, the whole blogging aspect left me wary. I also found that if you wanted a full comment box than you had to keep visiting others...it was a necessary obligation in many cases - not all - to have them visit you...at the end, you just couldn't be sure of the sincerity of some comments either because if you missed a visit or two, then they just wouldn't come. They wouldn't bother to read you.

I did make some very good friends at the same time meaning that I could write to them on the email on personal issues. I'm comforted that they're still in the picture. Many I cared about did leave blogging after about a year or so because of family commitments or other circumstances. I do have some of their contacts, miss them deeply, send virtual greetings from time to time. These were faithful readers and I think of them often. Some simply vanished and while I stay saddened, have always been glad for those crossed destinies, their encouraging words and the friendliness of that time.

But basically, the desire to write took over sharply once I had returned to Europe from Malaysia and than I realised I was no longer a blogger but a writer spotting a familiar velocity. Fresh aspirations and inspirations did the trick.

Now that I engage in a brand-new lifestyle, am happier than I have been for years and can claim time out to read and write without difficulty, I realise that all I want to do is to write creatively and to be read. I reached a point where it didn't matter I thought if it came down to the crunch and I had just 2 or 3 faithful readers. That for me would be the worst case scenario and I decided that that was fine. I just preferred sincere readers who would bookmark me, look forward to my writings and read me as an art form.

I've decided that I will:

• use 2 names in future to write literature in equal measure. My real name and also my pen-name.

• open a site just to feature my fiction, poetry and other creative work. I stay excited by the e-book technology and believe that the idea of reading literature and writings in a digital format will move progressively towards the future. I want to be a part of this revolution and not stray from it. I haven't featured my work anywhere for a long time.

• The work I use on a site will not be work that I send out to publishers or theatre groups. I will just write a varied amount of material separately for both online and trade.

• I will open a website eventually. The fact that this hasn't yet happened is entirely my fault. I have been too lazy to send my manuscripts out anywhere. So my problem of procrastination will have to be painfully rectified if I want to move ahead as I have the tendency to appear spiritless with my publishing ambitions at the best of times.

• I'd like to have a blog(probably this) just for literary news and thoughts, essays, book reviews or my associations with literature.

I don't know how I am going to manage it but these are things I feel compelled to write on nowadays.
I won't get rid of this blog because of the book reviews and interviews.
But now I plan to have a creative writing site of my own.
By the way, I do apologize for this self-indulgence but hopefully it explains my recent inconsistency with postings.

Sorry I couldn't get a post up today but I'll have everything back to normal from tomorrow. I may have to do an open mic poetry reading tomorrow evening in downtown Dublin but that shouldn't matter. At some point shortly, I will write and will definitely return to being more prolific. I'm also looking forward to visiting you all once more, especially to those who have come to visit me. Thanks for your patience.

Do excuse me for today. It's St. Patrick's day in Ireland. The traditional massive parade with its chosen routes turned out to be a 3-minute bus ride from where I live. Yes, just down the block.
Like so many, I stood happily in the cold for at least 2 good hours but we all had clear views because the fantastic thing about Dublin is that there are so many nooks, corners, windows and staircases that celebrate its historic buildings that we were spoilt for choice. Of course, little boys still preferred to climb the neighbouring trees while hundreds of children in fancy dress - mostly leprechauns - sat perched up high upon their dads' shoulders.
Brazilian carnival costumes, flamenco and the boisterous bhangra dancers made me feel that I had taken a shortcut route to paradise. Fairies and clowns on stilts, harlequin costumed party-dresers, rock-n-rollers swinging their guitars and floats in the shape of dinasaurs that swung as high as the skies convinced me that I may have lapped up a taste of heaven for sure. The sounds of drums and guitars, whistles, trombones and trumpets made a merry party. Yet, I'm not being half as eloquent. But what fun!
I felt drawn to an overwhelming emotion of bliss. The Irish own a rare beautiful gift in the shape of its powerful community spirit. They know when to command reverence and are often appreciative of beauty in an awed silent way that's humbling and never showy.
Somwhere in between the hot-dogs and ice-creams, I wept for the sheer exhilaration, the drama and flamboyance of it all.

It's amazing that after being devoted to a blog and then being absent for a time, how difficult it actually is to come back and start over. My personality is such that my thoughts and perceptions change constantly with media news, films, books and art. Or situations and experiences with episodes that hinge on travel. The very spirit of individuality evolves and revolves and me with it. So it is often very hard to predict my own plans.
Anyhow, dicey or otherwise, I'm back.
I do feel that I have outgrown this blog however and that what I would really like to do is to have one blog which features the latest publishing news, interviews and book reviews and another that has my own journal as a reader and writer and also one that features my writings.
I'm not sure how to go about it really. At the moment, it's all a bit of a mish-mash over here.
We did go to see the U2 concerts shot in Buenos Aires as a 3D HD (three-dimensional high-definition film) at the Cineworld cinema on Parnell Street last night.
It was a wet rainy night and the Saturday crowd appeared subdued on Dublin streets in anticipation of the nearing St. Patrick Day festivities.
I've always been a fan of U2. One of my favourite numbers is New Year's Day for its electrifying guitarwork and I'm glad they performed this song at their concerts.
What a fantastic, ethereal effect U2 provided for us, not just with those 3D glasses that showed them to be a stone's throw away from the viewers but by the constant re-invention of their music acts that speak of a universal love and peace and which fascinated me as a writer.
I stayed spellbound, receiving lessons for my own craft as how with each creative aptitude applied to different songs and performances, U2 kept the allure of their music which may have dissolved into predictability, intriguing and fresh.
This proved an inspiration for me personally to keep unleashing my own imagination...to not question radical thoughts or contemporary fictional forms but to challenge the experiment of colour or flavour with each new piece of writing.
Afterwards, we walked along the glistening streets, crossing the lighted Liffey River into Temple Bar where I enjoyed the pubs and wines and tasted elation in a lighthearted girlish way. I've also started to write poetry rather seriously again.

I'm sorry I haven't been as diligent in my postings. I did want to talk about some publishing news, books and my writing. But as usual, it's the fight for time. I thought I'd get back into my blog tonight except that I may be going to catch the new U2 film in 3D showing downtown. In any case, Dublin is currently filled with St. Patrick's Day revellers in fancy dress, for which I've suddenly found myself in the core of it all.
I'll try to start my posts tonight but if I can't make it, I'll be back tomorrow on Sunday for sure.

Tomorrow. I'll be back tomorrow.