My Decade

A Definitive Collection of Poems by Jemar “Meezy” Souza, 2010

At the start of

At The Start Of My Decade Free Web Copy ©2011 by Jemar Souza Published by Jemar Souza w/ The SZG Publishing House All rights reserved. You may take this and do with it as you please. Read it on your PC screens. Read it on your Mobile screens. Print it, to hold it in your hands and read. Or Print it, to rid the fragments of feces from the creases of your rumps. But DO NOT SELL IT, without my permission. Or you shall feel the wrath of I, and DIE, where you did it. You've been warned. I'm not kidding...

In Loving Dedication To: Brendolyn Reid, Everton Lindsay, and Icylin Hagues. May you all live forever with me through this collection.

Contents Poems These Words Shall Be Mine ...................... 7 Untitled (The Poem And I) ........................ 8 Red Flight ................................................. 10 Dressed For An Unfortunate Event ......... 12 Unpaid Hope, Minimum Wage Dreams .. 14 Things Are Not Always As The Seam ...... 16 Afraid Of What The Price Is ..................... 18 A Neon Valley Dream .............................. 20 Origami Mami .......................................... 22 With All Those Fairy Tales You Told Me .. 24 Philophobic, In A Porcelain Cage ............ 26 Thank Who<3? ......................................... 28 Taking Cover From The Rain ................... 29


With More Or Less Darkness ................... 30 Rumble, Labimpito. Rumble ................... 32 Conscious Porn ........................................ 34 Teach The Dead ....................................... 36 Home Is For The Heartless ...................... 37 A War Between Words ............................ 38 Hughes, Seuss, Souza .............................. 40 Untitled (But I, Am Writer) ..................... 42 Insecurity Complex .................................. 44 A Letter To The Better ............................ 46 Acknowledgements ................................. 52 About The Author .................................... 53


These Words Shall Be Mine

These words Shall be mine; I, The last one to use them. You may read; But don’t speak; Close your eyes; But don’t sleep. These words Shall be mine; I, The last one to use them. Listen; But don’t hear; Enjoy; Don’t repeat. ----7

Untitled (The Poem And I)

When am I a poet, Officially? Apparently, This Is every starting artist’s mystery. Paint a picture; I a painter? Sing a song; Now I a singer? Take a photo; Now photographer? Stare at a rocks; Now a geographer?


Well, To each his own, I've heard some say. So, Then I a poet, From this day. -----


Red Flight

It’s time to set it off! Or rather, It’s time to Take it off Take the ground from off my feet, And journey skies Among winged beasts, And beyond, Like infinity. The validity In my posture states That I’m prepared At day Or at night, For a journey called, “Red Flight”.


And when they’re strapped, They’re strapped up tight. So though gravity fights, With all of its might, I’m still gone As I said To infinity And beyond. -----


Dressed For An Unfortunate Event

The past few days Have been too good to be true. So I put on My Black shoes. I’m suspended by time Time tied around my neck; Not sure what to expect, But I’m dressed For an unfortunate Event. -----



Unpaid Hope, Minimum Wage Dreams

I’m grateful For my education. But, Not if I can’t pay for it. I’m striving For success. But, Do I have to slave for it? Unpaid internships, Minimum wage jobs. Why did I get into this? Will it ever stop? Or… Will things ever start? I still feel it in my heart.


But my mind, At times Just Laughs, Give it up and Pass. Pass on Every dream, Because every dream I have Really doesn’t mean a thing… Until they start paying Me. -----


Things Are Not Always As The Seam (Original)

I might be in The flyest clothes. But boy, oh boy, I still be broke. The nicest sneakers On my feet. But trust, I’m starving No food to eat... I do spend money; And spend it well. Well, Spend it right. But there are times When things Get far from bright -


Shit gets… Dark; And I’m just… Fucked. So my brother, My sister, Can you spare a buck? Sometimes things Are not as they seem. Not as the Seam. I still need that dollar… To chase my dream. -----


Afraid Of What The Price Is

I’m afraid of their tags; Petrified Of their barcodes, Because Sometimes, They are cold Cold, cold hearted, Money starving, Love artists. And even if not, Right now, I’m just a… Subprime hold Something Seemingly far Far From a triple a bond...


And as a good D Couldn’t possibly Be enough For some, I run. I’m ashamed, Ashamed of what I Currently have To offer. So I back off her… -----


A Neon Valley Dream

I heard your song; It reached my heart. My ears, Lost Lost in your melody. Every note Every chord Every sound of the beat Everything arranged, So sweet to me. Your voice voids all noise Only the sound of my own heart Can distract me from yours. I am yours. So closer to you, I must be.


Hands empty; But soul touched by you. I wanted to be No, I had to be By you, As you Orchestrated the masterpiece That mastered me. Sadness to happy Gloom doomed to bloom into Instead hope Of something better Sunny weather… On Neon Valley Street.



Origami Mami

She’s an origami mami Not Japanese; but Perfectly papered And folded to the shape of… Everything I dreamed I could find within a woman. Open her up, And you’d swear That she was wounded. But in fact, You’re just staring at the past Every single crease Shows a reason she’s unique. And when she folds back, She glows with all her beauty…


…Pardon me, I was distracted by the booty Meaning The buried treasure in her That I’ll always cherish. She’s a perfect Ten Iller Than all the generics. -----


With all those fairy tales you told me, you might as well have been a mermaid

She flaunted my emotions; Wore them By the sea; Promised me The ocean, But left me On the beach. Time on the coast, I’ve wasted, For a love, so close, I tasted.


I still taste it. So of all the girls That broke my heart, By far, She Is my favorite. And I hate it. -----


Philophobic, In A Porcelain Cage

Philosophically, The philosophy of it Is quite sickening. Hugging? Kissing? Dismissing? The very essence of all logic? For dinner topics? And possible trips to tropics? That never follow through? What is NOT stopping you?! I quiver at the thought of it! Shaken within my bones; It’s disgusting! Oh, the lusting, All the trusting: It’s all just a phase!


So I keep my distance, And stay far away. It’s no secret, And I am not shamed, That when it comes down to it, I am simply afraid, And shall keep my heart safe, In a porcelain cage. -----


Thank Who<3?

…Then I said, “Thank you”. And she said, “No, The pleasure is hers”, For passing on my love, For one That better concurs. I was Taken aback a second Flabbergastedly confused. And then it occurred to me That she Was talking about You. -----


Taking Cover From The Rain

Many precious moments Are cursed in vain. We fabricate pain, When love and smiles Would fit just the same. It’s truly a shame… So I thank those two lovers And their toddlers in colors, For opening my heart, That one day, When they chose to take cover From the Rain. -----


With More Or Less Darkness, I Am Not Moralless Monstrous

As an artist, My mind At times! Ventures… To the darkest Of places. I can’t help it!! It’s a Godsend Imagination. But with morals! My morals Keep Me The safest…


So no matter what matters My Mind Starts making, At the very most! At least… My Heart, Was never tainted. -----


Rumble, Labimpito. Rumble.

Desires transpire; Her unreal attire: A romper. Feel her fire, Feel her fire. You lose yourself Within her eyes to find The darkest parts Of Robert’s mind. The darkest hearts Of the darkest kind Take over yours; Your soul is hers.


She’s only — She’s only — But carries herself Like a queen. She’s only — She’s only — Your rational, Sickening. Rumble Rumble. Trouble Trouble. Black It seems, her Favorite color. How much time will it take Till it’s safe To love her? ----33

Conscious Porn

We are a reflection Of what we consume. It’s the truth… In an oblivious nude. We find ourselves topless In the presence of topics That matter the most. But present some nonsense, We can’t drop it; It’s kept hot, Like Toast… Burnt to a crisp.


So yeah, Go ‘head World, Cover them tits. It’s not like it’s something I haven’t seen here before. My mind growls; It’s rumbling – I’m hungry For more Knowledge. So feed me that Conscious porn The raw beauty of a truth, In which no lies Are born. -----


Teach The Dead

You can’t teach the dead… So why try it? There’s no denying they’re lying – So stuck in their ways – Thoughts six feet deep In doubt – Decomposition Disposing their brains. Aah It’s a shame, It’s a shame. You can’t teach the dead; And the dead Can’t be saved. -----


Home Is For The Heartless

Home is for the heartless The ones without a dream, Who only play it safe And keep an eye Within their team Displacing all their As They’ve scrambled Yet failed to focus On Their time. Home Is for the heartless The ones Without a grind. -----


A War Between Words

Scheming little bastards Trying to steal our shine! Purposely! Perpetrating! The preposterous! Posed as prose! Without a God damn rhyme!! Tell me, What’s the difference? – What separates us From them? If all they do Is space things out, Differently Than most their friends?


Ooh I hate those lies! That reek Of utmost treason...! They’re worse Than those among our best! That rhyme For no damn reason! -----


Hughes, Seuss, Souza

Hello, Mr. Hughes: I’ve heard of you before… But I never knew That parts of you Were at the center Of my core. Good day, Dr. Seuss: No worries, I am quite fine, And admit your presence Is evident as well Throughout My fancy rhymes.


Simple, Yet so deep; Light; Could be heavy; Humor, conscious, emotional, Politically Sexy; Fresh, With hints of swagger; Wit as sharp as darts And daggers – Edgy: Is how I hope they Recognize me, When I’m Happily Ever After. ----41

Untitled (But I, Am Writer)

With ease I Pleased my Mental squeeze An easel blank For good or evil, Evenly treated as equal But awed as audacious Depending on the audience I’m facing The open minded kind will Find that I am One of a kind -


Kind hearted But fond of darkness, If it makes the picture brighter I am A lover and a fighter, The emo And the smiler As I stamp on this Earth and Universe that I Am just a writer… -----


Insecurity Complex

It’s complicated. I love and hate it Because they make it Me. Insecurities. They dance along my conscious With the quietest of shoes, So loud within my mind, But surely quieter To you. So I’ll ignore them, Because I’m better Than to focus As I know I radiate with beauty, But won’t say it With much pompous.


Then in darkness, They vividly may shine, ‘Til I’m lost without a compass And questioning my I My eyes, My hands, Hair, and Other Appendages Not worth to mention. Confidence can Can my cons, Until they’re opened With your questions. -----


A Letter To The Better

If I’m the only one really feeling me Ahem Masturbation Then for me, Maybe success ain’t meant to be. Translation These thoughts flow fast and foolish: I don’t know how long I can do this! I get tight Jewish. So please, No mazaltov’s, While I’m sounding off. You can’t hear me? Damn, The sound is off…


Turn it on Turn me up! Listen close; Listen up! Chumps, This world ain’t made for us. It’s a shame This game strains All mayn women and childrayne Tryna choose fame. Psh Even if it ain’t fame. You just tryna make a change And find yourself NEEDING CHANGE.


But ain’t nobody tryna hear that. Nah, Go get a job Yeah, Go pick a lane; And stay in it. They strangling The very essence of life LIVE. You try to stay positive As you’re dying. You’re trying But find yourself crying, WHAT HAVE I DONE?! Where did the years go… Where have I been…?! I’ve been stuck!


Stuck making bucks That ain’t help my luck To feel successful I’VE BEEN FUCKED! Ha, And so the theme thaws out. Burr, It’s been so cold. go Go Go GO FUCK YOURSELF! You might as well. Hell, Fuck everyone else. That’s my advice.


But it sucks, ‘Cause look… I bet this poem stays stuck On a shelf Never read at all. So I give up And do the 9 to 5 crawl. But hey, Ya’ll do better ya’ll. Ya’ll do better. -----



I would like to thank God or The Flukes and Forces of Creation, for blessing me with the talent; Ibe, for telling me to keep writing, and always influencing me to be better; The Universe - but most including: Aashika, Anteater, Bobby, Dr. Seuss, Edward, Hezekiah, Janelle Monáe, Jean Grae, Jolayne, Kings of Leon, Langston Hughes, Lucy and Orla’s Dad, Lucy, Nicky, Olivia, Orla, Tennille, The-Dream, Raye Rich, Verandah, Vicky, Xavier, the producers and model of that Elle Italia photo spread, and the lady on the train that asked me for money and then moments later took out a Nintendo DS, for the inspiration; Abdullah, Amanda, Anthony, AV, Avery, Alexandria, Capri, Chhorvy, Chris, Chris, Christina, Courtney, David, Dominique, Elise, Eric, Eunice, Grant, Holley, Ibe, Idelle, Jabarie, Jacob, Jamar, Jasmine, John, Kahri, Katie, Leesa, Matt, Melvin, Naima, Pat, Prince, Priscilla, Sarah, Shahlayo, The Tay, Theodora, Uyen, Valeria, Verandah, Victoria, and Wendell, for giving me the feedback that helped to make this collection as amazing as I possibly could; and Alexandria, Alfredo, Bryan, Chhorvy, Chris, Chris, Christina, Cyriel, David, Desmond, Donovan, Dorna, Gavaska, Germaine, Greg, Ibe, Idelle, Jabarie, Jacob, Jamar, Jane Jeffrey Jeffrey, John, John, Jose, Katie, Levar, Linneth, Lois, Michael, Michele, Michelle, Mike, Millicent, Neville, Robert, Ryan, Sharon, Shelldon, Stephen, Taj, Tisha, Torneisia, and Travis, for the donations that are going to help make printing this collection possible.


About The Author

Jemar Christopher Souza was born in The Bronx, NY of The United States of America, and aspires to change the world.



This Page is For Chrissy


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