Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Somewhere Lost By Jasen Sousa - Order Directly From the Author : Special Limited Edition





$11.99
Order Your Copy of Somewhere Lost Now!!!
Please Visit JASENSOUSA.NET

Release Date January 24, 2011

DESCRIPTION

This collection of poems chronicles Jasen's relationships with people who have had substance abuse problems in their lives. This collection is not intended to ridicule those who have suffer from addiction, but rather show respect to their struggle to become free again. Addiction is not a fault or a weakness, it is a disease , and it just so happens that many of the people Jasen grew up with suffer from this disease, which puts the author in a unique position to tell this story, his story, and their stories, while trying to find some type of hope inside of this lonely, and repetitive urban experience.

Digital Book World: Google Says eBook Program Is Off to a Good Start

Digital Book World: Google Says eBook Program Is Off to a Good Start


How’s Google eBooks doing so far? According to Google product manager Abraham Murray, speaking at Digit Book World yesterday, so far so good. In a talk entitled 10 Fun Facts about Google eBooks, Murray offered a few general observations about the first two months of the cloud-based program, although no solid numbers and no real surprises.

Among the tidbits Murray shared: the free Google eBooks app was installed over a million times in the first few weeks, and a new version with new features would likely be rolled out sometime in the coming months. So far, the data shows most e-book pages have been viewed via apps, but that most books are being read on the Web, which has to be nice to see when yours is a browser-based e-book model. Google, meanwhile, has also begun to parse which devices readers are reading on, and the short answer is: all of them. Murray said reader behavior has validated Google’s insistence that its service works not only in browsers, smartphones, and tablets but ePub-based e-ink reading devices. He said Google research shows that about 80% of readers own just one device other than their laptop, but some own as many as three, and for those spending $500 for a phone, $500 for a tablet, and $100 for an e-ink reader, they want to read on all of them.

As for the top Google eBook sellers, no suprises. Google eBook readers are reading what everyone else is reading, with a strikingly familiar list of bestsellers, topped by Stieg Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and George W. Bush’s memoir Decision Points. But, without offering solid numbers, Murray added that early returns also showed that books in the program do “have a long tail,” with deep backlist and free public domain books also being viewed.



As for categories, romance tops the list, followed by biography, thrillers, finance, and YA books. Geographically, New York tops the list of most Google eBook reads, not a surprise given its population, followed by Seattle, which did seem to surprise Murray. The most literate city in America, meanwhile, Minneapolis, clocked in at a lowly number 10, behind Houston, Denver, and Atlanta, cities that Murray described as “punching above their weight” so far in terms of reads.

In closing, Murray suggested that early returns also showed that readers were supporting their local bookstores with Google eBook purchases, although he declined to offer any solid numbers at this early stage. But he noted that the 180 re-sellers signed up so far were doing business, noting that the success so far was “real,” and that “people are supporting their local bookstores.” It’s early, or course, but Murray, noting the dropping price points of devices, and the flood of new tablets at this year’s Consumer Electronics Show in Vegas, suggested there would be much more to report at next year’s Digital Book World.

Digital Book World: Publishing CEOs Optimistic About the Future

Digital Book World: Publishing CEOs Optimistic About the Future


The five publishing executives who took part on Digital Book World’s CEO panel Tuesday morning all agreed that while the industry is undergoing unprecedented changes, their companies are moving to adapt to new realities. Their view was consistent with a survey contacted by James McQuivey of Forrester Research that found 83% of publishing executives believed their company is capable of managing the digital transition.

McQuivey presented highlights of the study just before the CEO panel Tuesday, which also found that 80% of execs believe their staffs will need retraining to compete effectively in the digital marketplace. McQuivey also presented some research findings, including the estimate that consumers spend $1 billion on e-books in 2010, a figure that should reach at least $1.3 billion in 2011. The consensus among those surveyed was that e-books would comprise half of all trade book units by 2014, and 53% said they expected print sales to decrease this year.

The CEOs agreed that they face many challenges, but said there are many opportunities as well. Jane Friedman, CEO of Open Road Integrated Media and former CEO of HarperCollins, said the industry is “vitale and vibrant,” adding that at no point in her career as she seen such change and that things will never go back to the way they were. “It’s the end of the beginning”of the digital transition, Friedman said. Macmillan’s COO said publishing is entering a “golden age,” but added that the question is will it be a golden age for publishers. He noted that unlike some other media industries, publishers have been handed a great gift--millions of devices in the hands of readers that provides publishers the opportunity to create new products. The publishers that prosper, Napck said, will be those that adopt the new skill sets needed to publish in a new marketplace.

While many questions loom over the creation and delivery of digital content, the immediate question confronting publishers in what is happening in the distribution of print books, Thomas Nelson CEO Michael Hyatt said. With the number of bookstores shrinking, publishers will need to find new ways to allow consumers to discover books, Napack said. Just putting books in Amazon is not marketing, he said, adding that publishers will need to more effectively use social media to promote their titles. Hyatt warned that social media can’t be treated as a broadcast medium, but rather needs a targeted message.

Most panelists agreed that the downsizing of the bookstore chains meant that independent booksellers have a chance to mount something of a comeback. Napack said that while independent booksellers’ market share will remain relatively small, their role in bringing books to market will increase in importance. And while there will be fewer bookstores in the future, Napack said he believes there will always be physical bookstores.

Panelists also touched on e-book pricing, with all agreeing with Friedman’s statement that “free is not a business model, it’s a marketing model.” While the “post-agency” e-book price seems to have settled around $9.99, Napack expected there will be a range of prices moving forward. Hyatt observed it would be “mindless” to settle on one price.

The Retailing Future

Matt Fassler, an analyst who covers Barnes & Noble for Goldman Sachs, said on the What’s the Future for Bricks-and-Mortar Bookstores? panel that he believes that after a painful downsizing a core of physical bookstores will remain. He said other industries have seen independents and big box retailers co-exist and said there is no reason that can’t happen in the book industry. Earlier in the program, Mike Shatzkin, head of the Ideal Logical Company and a conference organizer, predicted that in 10 to 12 years brick-and-mortar bookstores “will more or less disappear.”

Fassler acknowledged that B&N is undergoing a costly transition, but said the company made the correct strategic decision in moving into the e-book space (he stopped following Borders in 2009). He said the superstore model was never a particularly good business model and was more beneficial to consumers than to B&N and Borders. One of B&N’s biggest challenges is Amazon’s aggressive stance in the e-book business, Fassler said, a point underscored by Marianne Wolk, who follows the e-tailer for SIG Susquehanna Financial. With its strong financial position, Amazon has been willing to sell e-books for little or no profit in order to drive market share, Wolk said, a strategy that Amazon shows no signs of abandoning. She said she doubted that Amazon would buy a big publisher to gain access to content, but would stay on its current course of expanding content by working directly with authors.

Both Wolk and Fassler said bookstores’ best chance to survive is to focus on being a “local merchant.” Wolk observed that working with Google could work well, since Google appears invested in developing local businesses.

Digital Book World: Examining the State of the E-Book

On the same day that the president delivered his state of the union speech, Digital Book World offered its own look at the state of the e-book, be it enhanced, amplified or what have you. The afternoon session, Delivering Enhanced e-books, offered a look at a variety of successful multimedia-driven e-book products including presentations by Hachette (Ansel Adams app), Penguin (Ken Follett’s Pillars of the Earth) and S&S (Nixonland).

But the panel Beyond the e-Book offered a line up of digital publishers—“digital producers” seems to have emerged as the new nomenclature —who laid out their vision of where the enhanced e-book is going. Publisher/producers from Aptara, Zinio, Vook and Sideways outlined the market as well as their experience using trial and error to develop multimedia authoring tools that make the production of multimedia products easier and more efficient. Apatara’s Sriram Panchanath outlined a future of enhanced e-books created under HTML5 and ePub3—evolving standards for multimedia on the web and the ePub standard—that will include interactive advertising, e-books that can adapt to readers tastes and needs, subsidized content and more, all integrated with social media functionality. “Dedicated e-readers will evolve into tablets,” said Panchanath, “offering tailed content. Every e-book app can serve as a bookstore and backlists will be repurposed for new kinds digital products. Publishers that adapt will only grow stronger.”

And all the digital producers were showing off new authoring tools that they say will speed up the ebook/app development process, make production cheaper and more efficient and attract a new generation of publisher/producers to e-book development. Vook producer Matt Cavnar discussed the rapid growth of Vook—from 4 to 26 employees in a year, producing 120 titles—and hyped MotherVook, an enhanced platform for multimedia content creation that Vook hopes to extend to its publishing partners. Sideways founder Charles Stack showed off M3, his own multimedia authoring platform, as well as highlighting a new e-book feature he calls “buddy reading.” The feature allows a user with an iPhone to synch to another iPhone in another location (say a child at home) using the iPhone’s new Game Center and can then read aloud and turn pages simultaneously in a remotely shared e-book. “When people worry about the sales of print titles dropping, remember,” said Stack, “Right now it’s undefined, but the publishing space we’re entering is a lot bigger than the one we’re coming from.”

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa

A Mosaic of My Mind


If you were to sit down
and paint a picture of your mind,
what are some of the images
you would find?

This is a painting,
an illustration of my imagination,
an ink outline,
a mosaic of my mind.

A lake
where my silhouette sparkles.
Sun shines on it, a mirage of diamonds.
I stand on the top of a mountain, a perfect sunset in the background
after decades of climbing.

A cemetery
where I stand and hold a shovel in my hand,
digging up caskets and opening lids.
Eyes open and skin regenerates
to an earlier date, and everyone goes back
to the time when they were kids.

People fly free like birds,
able to take to the skies.
Freedom to soar to any height,
not just when they close their eyes.

A garden with flowers
that glows with florescent faces
and they talk to me
when I bend down and tie my laces.

Cities of glass
that reflect the world’s beauty.
No such thing as a stranger,
Fame very closely knew me.

Roads with bricks
made out of gold,
and carved into them
are all of the stories I have told.

Pigeons are made out of porcelain,
and squirrels round around with skin
made out of silk. They bathe in lakes
which are filled with milk.

Pain no longer remains,
and neither does guilt.
No part of my mind is paved
with poverty, there is no future
of filth.

There is no need to sleep,
no need for sex, drugs, or food.
In this mind,
there is no reason to try to get in a good mood.

Trees talk, wind blows wisdom.
Everyone who speaks, teaches, everyone who listens, learns.

If you were to sit down
and paint a picture of your mind,
what are some of the images
you would find?

This is a painting,
an illustration of my imagination,
an ink outline,
a mosaic of my mind.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Philosophy of Perfection By Jasen Sousa

Philosophy of Perfection


During observing
the way people act,
I’ve noticed something
in those who have accomplished
a great deal. Passion they once had to be great
is a sensation they no longer feel.

I have decided, no matter
what I accomplish in my life,
I will always see myself as a failure. A disgrace.

I believe this is the only way
for the impossible to become possible,
is that understood? Others might see
me as a great man, but it's only because I think
I am no good.

I have witnessed those who believe
they are God’s gift.
There is nothing in their life left to prove,
they sit back and relax, they’re in a great groove,
content. Laid back and lazy,
they adore themselves so much, greatness
is way out of touch.

No matter what I do in life, it will never be enough.
The heart that pumps in my chest
will never let me rest,
hungry to be a hero,
I starve for success.

It’s bad for your health
to be too full of yourself, I’m empty,
all my energy goes to preserving my memory.

I will not lay down silently, no matter how many
awards and accolades I receive,
because I will always believe
there is more I must achieve.



Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

There Comes a Point By Jasen Sousa

There Comes a Point


Sun blinds, do not turn your head and run from the signs.
They are there sometimes shadowed by timeless space, staring you in the face.
If your attention is not struck by church bell chimes, I hope the written word reminds,
and helps you begin your journey to a more peaceful, productive place.

Ignoring destiny can bring grave repercussions, dialog of deep discussions.
Staying at one location too long makes it hard to leave.
Being content with something you’ve grown accustomed to, no more lust in you.
If you think you can’t better yourself, it will be something you come to believe.

Drained of life, stagnant in your steps until there is nothing left.
No longer trying to learn, trying to improve.
The only thing in your heart that is kept is a life which you regret,
and you accept that you wake up and go to bed in a bad mood.

This is the moment everything changes, everything angers.
This is the point in your life when you must move on, you must!
Don’t worry about failing, your body’s equipped with healing.
Conquer insecurities, remove rust, keep the trust!



Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

The Impossible Journey By Jasen Sousa

The Impossible Journey


The ending is no where in sight,
and my future exists at the end of the road.
Inside a hazy blur, a mirage of my might.
Energy and enthusiasm I once had has significantly slowed.

Countless hours wondering if I will have the strength to endure?
Hands on my hips, quivering blue lips, thoughts skip, road covered in mist.
I used to possess such confidence, but now I’m not so sure.
The impossible journey is one of those one way trips.

My talents and gifts are of no use to me now.
Without my physical strength, just my mind.
You can see fear carved into my angled brow.
The impossible journey is a road I must walk blind.

The journey will always be impossible
as long as I continue to think that it is, under my breath.
The journey will only be possible
if I take the first step.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Two Tears, One Woman By Jasen Sousa

Two Tears, One Woman


I’ve tried for too long,
tonight the feeling is just too strong.
Dreaming about being wrapped back inside her arms, I long
to return to the only world where I belong.

I’ve tried to go on, sometimes I become weak.
One of those moments where I rewind to our combined intertwined heat.
The more my mind tries to retreat,
the more the barrier around my heart continues to deplete.

My skin, similar to a leaf in the summer, if touched, it will break.
I spend my night trying to rekindle a feeling, staring at the ceiling wide awake.
My one and only crush, my one and only experience of lust. Call us soul mates
who were never able to fulfill our fate.

She’s in a relationship she can’t escape, I choose to be alone.
Every moment that goes by when I don’t even get to say, hi, I turn to stone.
little pieces of me are blown in the wind, back to my soul, they can’t be sewn.
I fell in love with her when I was 13, and I still feel the same way now that I’m grown.

I can never outrun her voice’s tone, she’s inside of me hiding
and she appears on those days when I’m barely surviving.
Trying to forget is just like lying.
Two tears one woman, a young girl who left this old boy forever crying.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Covered By Jasen Sousa

Covered


I never thought it would happen.

I met the girl who changed my life forever.

Her beauty is stunning,
something I never witnessed before.
I always thought of the perfect girl,
but she was more.

She brought out feelings in me
I didn’t know I possessed,
conversations, deepest
secrets confessed.

I love to wake up in the morning
knowing she’ll be by my side.
Yawn,
open my eyes wide
and just stare.
I lean over to ream my fingers
through her hair, my fingers
caress air.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Lyrical Laws By Jasen Sousa

Lyrical Laws


This is poetry without pause,
lords of society
create lyrical laws,
writing for someone else’s applause,
I wrap my claws around my pen
until I figure out my flaws.

Sitting there hoping,
mentally choking,
lyrical laws
made to be broken.

Poetry is free.

If we write what’s supposed to be,
then neither are you, neither am I, neither are we.

What is poetry?

To the ancient man
with gray hair who sits near a trash can, wrinkled
papers, nothing there.
He waits for perfect words
while a beautiful spontaneous poem
has blurred, ideas shrink, he lost his ability
to write, all he can do is think.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

A Warrior’s Will By Jasen Sousa

A Warrior’s Will


A warrior’s will, not a violent thrill, but a silent still
which embodies the tyrant’s ill.
Superior skill, a warrior’s will.

Never to stay down for long, listens closely to those who are gone.
There will never be a day in which you can sever this bond.
Superior skill, a warrior’s will.

Attains the adrenaline of a million men and resides in places most only dream to have been.
Fights battles over and over again, even when it appears to be the very end.
Superior skill, a warrior’s will.

Covered in blood, a stormy sky hovering above.
A journey to discover his ultimate love.
Superior skill, a warrior’s will.

Leaves tracks for others to follow,
always ready to attack to preserve tomorrow.
Superior skill, a warrior’s will.

Drags himself up a hill, a warrior’s will.
Will not stop until he accomplishes what he came to fulfill.
Superior skill, a warrior’s will.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Murals on the Wall By Jasen Sousa

Murals on the Wall


Inner walls of thought, painted
with a paradoxical plot.
24 years of imagination drawn with a brush,
the world I view, the universe I created
for me and you.

The lights are out.
Kids who learn to count
on their ribs, adult arms, streets, skids.

The love of my life walks by me, the city
goes up in smoke, back to my childhood
swinging from a tire.
Playing stickball and basketball
with friends in the park, still there
until it becomes dark.

Under a faintly lit light,
painting lyrics on timelines.
My first letter, my first word, a voice
that needs to be heard.

Pages flap in the wind
blown from subway cars
speeding underground.
A hat blows on train tracks with the rats,
I am no where to be found.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Beautiful Beginning By Jasen Sousa

Beautiful Beginning


This is the end
of the journey inside
my mind. Along the way blue jays
have sung while they bathed
in water fountains along outer roads
of my mind
blooming with florescent flowers.

In this mind
drugs are not for sale, there is no jail,
no bail, no reason
to commit crimes.
There are no cops, no glocks, no gun shots,
my imagination
leaped out of my mind.

There are no ghettos, no hoods, no poverty,
no broken down
homes, no block brawls, no gang graffiti on walls
of abandoned buildings, no parents at wakes crying over
their children. This is a beautiful beginning
where there is no jealousy,
no revenge, no need for killing.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

The Guilt and the Gun By Jasen Sousa

The Guilt and the Gun


The 4th of July.
A night so clear you could count every star in the sky.
Here’s a tale about some guy, well, let’s call him a kid.
Slippery sneakers, city skates, pay attention to how far down he slid.
Yawning, waking up in the morning, he starts to get dressed.
Not stressed because he blocks out all the sins he never confessed.
Zipped up his jean shorts and tied his Jordans.
Very hot before noon, sweat off his head already pouring.
Mother in the next room snoring, little brother out riding his bike,
and his father has been missing since he came out of the womb and first saw light.

Out all day wandering the streets,
running into old friends which he greets.
Trying to avoid those with whom he accumulated debts,
they would beat him down until his last breaths.
He carefully takes steps throughout the town where he resides,
through these streets he glides, he hides, this is how he survives.
Smoking some weed behind an abandoned building.
I liked Benny, but did not like that he was selling drugs to the younger children.
His eyes have changed since he was a young lad,
but what he was going through was no teenage fad

There was a fireworks display at the local park,
a show which promised to illuminate the sky which sat dark.
Benny set off a gun spark in a girl’s direction,
a girl which for years, denied him any love or affection.
The shot hit her in the midsection, police and ambulances coverd city streets.
The paramedic discovered, this girl’s heart no longer beats.
People trampled over each other in their seats, crowd roared
as fireworks continued to soar.
Benny’s face smothered down in the grass, police cuffed his wrists
as smoke from the fireworks filled the scene with a mysterious mist.

Benny has been in and out of jail,
when he’s free his life just doesn’t seem real.
He likes having a certain reputation,
without the hard guy image, he would be nothing in this nation.
This time he won’t be getting out anytime soon,
this was his first time sending another human being to their doom.
One bedroom surrounded by steel, listen to Benny wail, no one else can hear.
Don’t let Benny tell you he doesn’t care.
This type of filth can never be overcome,
Benny now holds the guilt and the gun.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Mama’s Boy By Jasen Sousa

Mama’s Boy


He never wanted to let mom out of his sight
when it came to buying him toys,
now he begs for mom to leave him alone
because he’s hanging out with the boys.

He’s growing up fast,
trying to learn to be a man.
He yells at his mom when she tells him what to do,
mom has a tough time trying to understand.

She does all she can to treat him good
and buys him anything he asks for.
As soon as they walk out of the store,
that’s how long the appreciation lasts for.

He’s confused about his character,
he’s trying to find his identity.
His mom is his biggest obstacle,
in the way of his experimenting,
so she became his biggest enemy.
His Mom walks by the TV and stares at all his young photos,
pictures of her boy frozen in her memory.

They used to sit around the table and talk, take the dog for a walk,
watch TV and discuss what was going on in their lives.
Now she’s lucky to get a hello or a goodbye,
pain pierces her heart like a million knives.

He locks his bedroom door and his mom screams,

"I can’t help you, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong."

Silence for a second,
volume pumped up on a loud song.

She walks away hurt,
knows her son is struggling.
She wants to hug and squeeze him
and tell him how much she loves him.

She’s afraid he might be on drugs.
He’s afraid she might see his eyes that are blood shot red.
She’s afraid he might be hanging with the thugs.
He’s afraid she might really see what’s going on in his head.

One night after a big argument
he packed necessities in a gym bag and fled.
He changed his name and joined a gang.
The next time he saw his mom he was wearing all red.

They both wish they could go back,
but too much has been said, too much has been done.
She is no longer his mother.
He is no longer her son.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Hear, Know, Evil By Jasen Sousa

Hear, Know, Evil


While wearing my headphones, the music was drowned out
as I overheard the sound of a conversation.
The strange thing about it, I was above ground,
but I could hear them speaking down in the subway station.
I wrapped my headphones around my neck, took a deep breath,
I heard a person getting a token drop their change,
a gust of wind blew through my body
combing my veins.

I looked up at a window on the 10th floor of a building,
I could hear the entire meeting.
I looked at the payphone across the street,
a woman slammed the phone, I knew why she was weeping.
A taxi zoomed by with two men in the backseat,
I heard them discussing their crime.
Someone was staring at me from across the street,
I could see into his mind!

My head started spinning, all these words.
I heard a teacher going over a lesson, a priest giving his blessing in a confession.
Conversations throughout the city
received in crystal clear reception.
I heard people’s hatred,
more than half of this modern society is still racist.
A thousand thoughts,
but I couldn’t put an image to any faces.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Mental Prison By Jasen Sousa

Mental Prison


Do you have the key to see past bars
and see the stars?


Physical freedom,
thoughts behind steel.
We live in a society
which encourages us not to feel.
Dressed in our prison suits and boots,
shopping for the biggest sale.
Minds stuck in a black hole, life without parole,
adopting a way of life that is not real.
We conform to values and norms,
rules someone else made.
Stop being fools!
Breakout! Be brave!
True freedom comes with focus
inside of our thoughts.
Crooked cops,
pick their corrupt locks.
Let your mind be as free as the wind,
let it land where it desires.
This is a life sentence
that never expires.


Follow ways of others,
repeat the same mistakes.
Freedom of thought
when the mind awakes.
Question what you see,
question who you are and who you will be.
Self confession is the key.
Wisdom has no walls,
no restraints.
Our souls are saints
when our minds paint
images and landscapes
no one else can create.
Freedom of thought,
you'll know when you made it.
They feed us poison,
yet we still starve.
We search for pleasure to feel better,
yet we still feel scared.
We will remain slaves of society
until we break free from shackles and chains.
We will remain locked up
until we unlock the power which resides in our brains.

Do you have the key to see past bars
and see the stars?




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

The Day the Sun Didn’t Rise By Jasen Sousa

The Day the Sun Didn’t Rise


One morning I awoke
and darkness covered the land.
My body was drained of all hope,
barely able to see an outline of my hand.

I rushed to my window to spread the blinds,
it appeared as though everything had disappeared.
Lived through the days and never paid attention to the signs,
the reality of a thought all of us have once feared.

Heard screams and fastened the deadbolt on my door.
Rocks crashed through my windows, in poured darkness of night.
Somewhat sure of what was in store,
nothing more than a man in peace with his plight.

Empty skies, no clouds, no birds,
this was the day the sun didn’t rise.
Gone forever, my once proud words.
The moment your dream s dies.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Missing Girl By Jasen Sousa

Missing Girl


July 5, 2006,
the last time she was seen.

16-years-old, snatched
away from everything she knows.

Now she grows away from everyone
who loved her deeply. Missing girl signs hang on poles
and fall down. Photos of her lost soul blow
in the street.

Her parents wait. Her room not touched.
Since she vanished no one in the house
has slept a wink. Since she has left
all anyone can do is think, eyes unable to blink.

Family waits for the missing girl
to come home, looking out the window,
staying by the phone. Checking the clock,
waiting for a knock.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Sidewalk Talk By Jasen Sousa

Sidewalk Talk


Out of cracks of concrete language is leaking,
sidewalks are speaking.

I walk out of my door,
broken beer bottles tell a tale of the night before.
I kick broken glass onto the street from the curb,
noise startles, but does not scare the pigeon, well trained city bird.
Walking on concrete slabs making sure not to step on lines,
stuck to the concrete, gum, pennies, nickels and dimes.
I scrape my feet on concrete, continue to walk,
I notice a pink heart drawn by a young girl with chalk.

Take a walk down your block
and listen to the sidewalks talk.

A lonely rose blows along, withering leaves,
a sign of aged love someone never received.
Graffiti, names and symbols someone wanted to represent,
the world continues to misunderstand, never really knowing what it all meant.
An empty condom wrapper blows in the breeze,
a plastic bag stuck on a branch, rustling in the trees.
A homeless man with a dirty grey beard hanging down to his belt,
piles of snow still stand, not yet hot enough to melt.

A newly planted tree begins to grow,
a lost hat in the wind, continues to blow.
A footprint someone left behind in the concrete is drying,
little puddles are left when the sky is done crying.
A little rock you kick as you walk,
listen to the sidewalk talk.
A man with little food, pigeons he feeds,
this piece of paper that someone un-wrinkles and reads.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Dying Light By Jasen Sousa

Dying Light


The light which once shined so bright
is being sucked away by everyday life.
I once wrote with a pen and paper.
Now, with a knife on my skin, I write.

Something, someone, punctured my heart
and left passion pouring out of my blood stream.
The horror of the world lurks inside of my dream,
never quite understanding what it might mean.

That large luminous ball of light
has faded into a tiny little beam.
Trapped inside a dark tunnel,
the only one able to hear myself scream.

The path I travel down has disappeared.
I will keep walking towards this light,
but by the time I get there,
I fear it will no longer appear.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Purgatory’s Paradise By Jasen Sousa

Purgatory’s Paradise


Can’t quite tell, whether I’m living in Heaven or Hell?
Tricked by beauty, disguised of where evil lies.
Nature is sacred, inside of the forest exists hatred.
Breathtaking rainbows and earth shaking thunder come from the skies.
Trapped inside purgatory’s paradise, enclosed by its gates,
death is the only way someone escapes.

Temporary pleasure is how we survive, but I don’t consider this being alive.
If we feel emotionally unstable we resort to an expense.
Covering our skin with jewelry and clothes to make sure nobody knows.
We never explore dark emotions to see what they meant.
Trapped inside purgatory’s paradise, enclosed by its gates,
death is the only way someone escapes.

Search our entire life for a love that will not last.
Meaningless minutes turn into unproductive days.
Teachers and speakers try to complete us, we’re not getting stronger, we’re getting weaker.
Centuries have passed, still unable to change our seductive ways.
Trapped inside purgatory’s paradise, enclosed by its gates,
death is the only way someone escapes.

A perfect, precise, poisonous paradise, land full of virtue and vice.
It’s not somewhere I’ll go, it’s somewhere I’ve been.
A revolving world of sin, corrupted women and men,
it’s the world that I’m in.
Trapped inside purgatory’s paradise, enclosed by its gates,
death is the only way someone escapes.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Drifting By Jasen Sousa

Drifting


Weight off my body starts to drift,
I catch my tears in my palm and sip.
Nourished by my pain,
flourishing from what lives in my brain.
Stuck in a realm somewhere between life and death
where I inhale weightless breaths.
Words on this page float in space,
look in a mirror and cannot make out a clear image of my face.
Pulled by external forces,
material comes from unknown sources.
Sunset, I try to find out where it hides?
If I let it go, it will disappear to the same place where my soul resides.
I wait for it to rise, time flies,
will I get a clear vision in my eyes before time dies?
A place where there are no stars, no skies,
no hellos , no goodbyes.
My body is numb,
can’t get enough feeling to run.
Every image in my mind begins to glisten,
afraid to let go, not sure what I will miss?
Listen. Everything around me is turning and twisting,
my body slowly lifting
to another plane of existence,

drifting…




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Desert City By Jasen Sousa

Desert City


The year is 3001. Gone forever,
the shine of the sun.
Living in a world that is now largely covered by ice and snow,
a young man with a cap and backpack
sets out on a track
that doesn’t have a way back.
Myths and elders warned him not to go.
Tales told of how the world
wasn’t always so cold. Legends about great cities
that glowed under the glare of the sun.
Tall buildings built of glass, flowers and green grass.
Could it be true, when everything is cold now, dark and bitterly bare?

A young man drawn to the forbidden, curious
about previous ways of living. He ventured out towards the unknown,
not knowing what he would discover. He walked until snow began to melt off the land, he walked until his feet touched sand.
Sweat started to drip off his brow, the sun started to hover.
While walking he stubbed his toe
on things that used to grow. He dusted off sand with his hand
and uncovered a sign. He dug deep until he saw a street. He fell through a hole,
and stood on concrete that appeared to be constructed by intelligent minds.

Unearthed, alerted, a city
that was totally deserted.
Covered by a mythical mirage, a city no longer under the stars.
Burned cars, buildings so large, melted tar, broken windows
covered by steel bars.
Bones covered by clothes, those who used to sit on thrones.
Hoodies, hats, blue shirts, badges, suits and ties.
Boney hands holding guns and knives, as he stared at faces
that no longer had eyes.
Looked for clues to what happened, he picked
up a cassette player, he heard people rapping.
Examined colorful paintings and words squalled on the walls.
Buildings and people who once reached for the heavens, so upsetting.
He unwrinkled some old headlines,


"How A City Falls"




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

An Incomplete Thought is an Untold Story By Jasen Sousa

An Incomplete Thought is an Untold Story


There it is, a beautiful life altering thought
ready to be put into effect.
Somewhere past the middle, but not quite near the end,
the thought is nurtured with neglect.
The thought once had a future
with a substantial structure so vast.
Every moment the thought is not completed, it is depleted,
the idea defeated, covered with cremated ash, pieces from the past,
always within your grasp, yet always out of reach.
So many, this thought was going to teach, so many who were never taught.
A story never told to the world,
simply because you forgot.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

One Morning I Woke Up and I Was Blind By Jasen Sousa

One Morning I Woke Up and I Was Blind


One morning I woke up from a dark parallel
prism and something happened to my vision.
I heard birds chirping, but could not see
the familiar spot on my ceiling.
I put my feet on the floor, enclosed in a dark space
where I could not find the door.
What iniquity has been done
to me? Where is the sun to see?
I tried to regain my reputable sight,
stuck with nothingness of night.

It took a while, but I structured
a smile. A taste of tears on my lips, standing up
with my hands on my hips.
It’s like I was granted a wish.
I no longer had to see people die, no longer
had to see my mama cry.
Won’t have to worry about watching
them bury my brother, never have to see
the world’s pain.
Now that I am blind I focus on the true universe
and not it's defined color.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Opening a New Rap CD By Jasen Sousa

Opening a New Rap CD


I rush to the store on release day,
there when the doors open.
I can’t wait to hear from my favorite musician again
and the new messages out of their mouth that will be spoken.
Better than their last album,
what I’m hoping .
While I walk, I try to get the plastic off
with a finger nail that’s broken.

Annoying security seal
that keeps knowledge trapped inside.
Passion, pain and pride,
there’s nothing they won’t hide.
Cover art tagged with a parental advisory sticker.
Open up the jewel case , there it is in all its glory.
Art converted into music,
lyrics that tell a story.

I can smell the fresh factory aroma,
better than any flower.
I can’t wait to pop it into my CD player
and hear them spit for the next hour.
I turn the CD over to make sure there are no scratches.
I see colors of the rainbow and my face reflecting.
Perfection.

I place the CD back in the case for a second,
open up the CD booklet to get info on the tracks.
Guest appearances, songs that are sampled, who wrote it,
who published it,
all the interesting facts.
I place the CD into the stereo tray,
anticipate the first words they will say,

I press play.

Intro comes on,
I can already tell it’s the bomb.
A voice that could be mistaken for a machine gun on the song,
rhythm, rhyme, track number, displaying of time,
stories coming from their mind,
I could listen all day long.

The first time I hear it,
it’s not as good as the second, or the third.
I press the backwards arrow,
I’m in amazement of what I just heard.
The fourth, the fifth, the sixth,
the seventh, the eighth.
Even though it’s late, I have to call all my friends
and tell them this album is great!

Situations they speak on,
they vividly describe emotions.
They live it as I live it,
the CD spins in motion.

Every rapper to me
is like a rose that grew from concrete.
That’s why I can’t wait to hear their new vocals
over their hot new beat.
Head bumping to the sound,
tapping softly, my feet.
Stars shining so brightly
under lights of the street.
The last song on the best CD I ever heard is about to end!
I don’t sweat it, my stereo is set to repeat...




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Paper Skin By Jasen Sousa

Paper Skin


My skin is blank, it begs
for someone to give it life.
Draw on the lines of my pores
with a pen that penetrates like a knife.
Make me bleed with passion,
cover me with memories that will never erase.
Crosses, symbols, names,
give my body a new face.

Create a work of art
so I will be a walking museum.
I will not need to talk,
people will be able to see where I’ve been
and who I am.
Cover my skin with gorgeous colors
that resemble a summer sunset sky.
When you write on my paper skin
I am not ashamed to say, sometimes I cry.

Decorate me with precise patience,
articulate my design, my paper skin
now possesses quotes, no one else
has skin quite like mine.
Tap your feet as you draw
while your pen full of ink pulsates in your palm.
As you draw on my neck, back, belly and arm,
I will be at peace, I will be calm.

Write on my paper skin
until people stare.
Write on my paper skin
until I am something people fear.

For all of us who have paper skin,
let us be written and drawn on
with blacks, reds, purples, greens and blues.
Paper skin,
there is no feeling like getting tattooed.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

State of Contemplation By Jasen Sousa

State of Contemplation


In Massachusetts
I attempt to stay sane,
under a sky that’s grey, I rest my brain. Sitting on a park bench,
homeless stench, I watch the city operate. Sitting under a tree, branches hang down to my shoulders, wind blowing, getting colder, watch concrete dry up from a night’s rain,
I contemplate.

My life
has been moving so fast, I relax, imagine my future,
ponder my past. Over the city this morning, a gloomy
shadow is cast, making the picture grey, sites of construction, homeless man on the corner, sight of destruction.
I stare at the tree beside me, watch branches sway.

With little
regard of how he feels, a woman walks echoing
off the sidewalk, her high heels, aboveground subway squeals,
a store owner yells at a boy who steals a bag of chips,
everyone checks their wrists, making sure they’re not late, kids hang a flyer with tape, a woman gets out of a car,
gives her man a kiss.

A bus stops,
opens the doors, no one gets aboard, windows with items no one
can afford, under his hoodie a young man carries
a smaller version of a sword, not protected by the Lord,
different lives people lead, different clothes cover up
the same bleeding. People heading different ways
in their Mercedes and Accords.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

The World Awake By Jasen Sousa

The World Awake


In a world
where no one sleeps.
Continuous pounding of feet,
nervous hearts beat.

Held captive, a slave to society
until we rest in our grave.
Trying to suppress hunger
we all crave.

There is another person
who is rising out of their bed
rushing to where? Nobody knows, trying
to get to a place no one ever goes.

Time’s wings flap,
the wind blows,
time slows,
and the list of things
we need to get done grows.
Dreams are only experiences
a sleeping person knows.

Trying to feel contempt,
forever awake,
until one resolves what it all meant
our lives remain something
which were only dreamt.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Rooftop Bus Stop By Jasen Sousa

Rooftop Bus Stop


High upon a rooftop of a building I sit
waiting for the bus to arrive.
On a journey to the afterlife,
from my illness I did not survive.

I am the only soul who waits at the stop,
a lonely feeling.
I look to my left and see a big bus
rolling through the sky, sailing.

The heavenly road on which it travels.
It floats, it stops, then opens the doors.
The bus driver tips his cap, and says,
"Don’t you love how my bus soars?"

I stand there and do not speak.
"Are you coming aboard?"
"This bus is going to Heaven
and you my friend, have a meeting with the Lord!"

I step inside
and the bus explodes into space!
I take a seat next to a woman,
pull my jacket together and tie my shoelace.
The woman reaches out to shake my hand, and says,
"I guess we are going to the same place."

She smiles and points out the window at the planets,
I look at the stars.
I glance at the woman’s skin,
healing in front of my eyes, her scars.

The bus zooms towards a planet,
an awesome looking
shade of glowing green.

The bus driver stops and opens the doors,
"This is as far as we go."
The person sitting next to me nudges me
and brings me out of my daze.
They say, "These days, traffic is so slow!."

Man, I guess so...




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Raise of Light By Jasen Sousa

Raise of Light


I stand on glowing sand,
sun over my head vibrantly shines.
I stare at an endless ocean blue,
drawn on its stillness are three luminous lines.
Shining stars perfectly aligned.
Three profound paths bestowed on my behalf,
a radiant riddle for me to decipher.
I look up towards the sky, the one who knows the answer laughs.

Waves crash upon a rock of thoughts,
my one true voice.
I drop down to my knees, comforted by the ocean’s breeze,
I can feel it trying to guide me.
I jump to my feet,
I feel something imposing inside of me.
I feel it in my heart,
I feel it in my throat.
I feel sand fall off my feet,
I begin to float.

Three paths join as one,
inside my brain they blend.
On a voyage
to a place I have never been.
I will remain there
until my thoughts find a peaceful end.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Perseverance By Jasen Sousa

Perseverance


There is nothing or no one on this planet who can deny me my dreams.
I will not allow anything or anyone to stand in my way.
I might be tortured to the point where you can hear my screams,
but I always heal, I always prevail, and smile by the end of the day.

Punctured holes in my body to the point where my blood has spilled.
You have made me weak, I can barely stand.
I have stared death in the face, and yet I still have not been killed.
My legacy breeds life throughout the land.

What I hold onto is inside my heart and I will never let go,
no matter how hard you try to remove it from my grasps.
You tried to keep it a secret, but the world begged to know.
I continue to parade my feet down a memorable path.

You presume I lack knowledge, all I do is learn.
You presume I do not to care, I worry the most.
My time to triumph will arrive, I will have my turn!
Down to Hell, I will burn, back from the fire, my ghost.

You presume I will end up behind bars.
You presume I will lead a life of crime.
Instead of reaching for car handles, I reach for the stars.
I don’t use drugs, but I do use my mind.

I limp when I walk, stutter when I talk, body outlined in chalk.
Held up on my block, pressured to sell crack rock, eyes don’t see straight.
For all those who have tried to destroy me,
you could not stop my perseverance to do something great!




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

City of Dreams By Jasen Sousa

City of Dreams


I walk
through the city of dreams
strolling past neon lights flickering
in store windows,
splashing through puddles,
reflections of OPEN signs.

I walk
through the city of dreams
passing by a manhole cover
that steams. Smoked cigarettes on rainy days
washed away by sidewalk streams.

I walk
through the city of dreams,
buckets tipped upside down, hands pounding
homemade drums. Tall buildings reach for the stars
overshadowing a secret society known as the slums.

I walk
through the city of dreams
and see a cop chasing after a minority who runs.
I walk
past a stone man
who sits on a bench and just hums,
groups of pigeons
eating crumbs.
Do kids carry books in their bags,
or do they carry guns?

I walk
through the city of dreams,
cars, people and their words all move so fast.
I see a man sleeping, covered by a cardboard box,
and wonder how long he can last?

I walk
through the city of dreams,
it tells quite a story of people’s past.
Homeless carrying their possessions,
all the things they have amassed.

Blowing in the streets, someone from the city
lost their hat.
Over the city of dreams
a large shadow is cast.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Draw of Dreams By Jasen Sousa

Draw of Dreams


Young girl in her teens
laying in her room in her torn jeans
trying to figure out what it all means.
Through her ceiling beams, hearing screams,
writing it all down, storing it in her draw of dreams.

Speaking
about how I feel
isn’t always ideal.
Reciting silent words
to a family that barely listens .

Pain has built up
inside my inner walls
and is released to the world
in the form of sentences ,
from my mind onto the line,
a storm of squalls.

Pictures of heroes falling off my walls
from fighting going on upstairs.
Trapped inside a fortress
of my own fears.

I search for a way out,
but the only thing that appear s
are these familiar tears.

Everyone always harasses me
about what I wear.
They don’t understand
this type of self expression.
I wear my heart on my sleeve,
they still can't see my depression.

Everyone always has a suggestion,
but never an answer for the way I am feeling.
I feel like my life is being taken from me,
that’s why I resort to stealing.

I like to sleep during the day
and live through the silent night.
The only time in my life
I don’t have to hear a violent fight.

I dream of my prince
who will rescue me from this madness
and show me a different world
that doesn’t revolve with sadness.

My walls painted with blackness.

I can’t see past my young hand.

Young girl in her teens
laying in her room in her torn jeans
trying to figure out what it all means.
Through her ceiling beams, hearing screams,
writing it all down, storing it in her draw of dreams.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

I’ll Miss You Before You’re Gone By Jasen Sousa

I’ll Miss You Before You’re Gone


I’ll miss you before you’re gone .
I think about it
when I kiss you on your forehead in the morning.
I’ll never meet a person as strong.
An image of you not around keeps haunting me.
If I am in this world without you, even more, I’ll feel like I don’t belong.

Some might think it’s strange that I have these thoughts while you’re still here.
Throughout my life special people continue to be taken.
I know all too well how a beautiful thing can quickly disappear,
that’s why I fear, why these images in my mind continue to appear.
One day I will look for you, no matter how hard I stare, you will not be there.

Every time I see you, I study your smile and its perfect curve
so I never forget your breathtaking glow.
I remember you now and when the moment occurs
I will make sure my image of you can never be blurred .
Instead of fading, your memory will always continue to grow.
When you can’t speak anymore, inside my heart, you will always be heard.

So deeply expressed in this letter
to let you know before it’s too late.
Blowing in the breeze, on top of my pen, a feather.
I’ll miss you before you’re gone, then I’ll miss you forever.
I’ll miss you before you’re gone, because the feeling can’t wait.
Right now I miss you more than ever.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Do the Homeless Dream? By Jasen Sousa

Do the Homeless Dream?


These are not your dreams.


Bag he sleeps in.
Cold air creeps in.
Young kids beat him.
A world defeats him.
Rain seeps in.
Every day nothingness greets him.
When will it be time to eat again?

These are not your dreams.

Bench now his bed.
A stench from long hair that hangs from his head.
Conditions are no longer livable.
People walk by, invisible.
Look at him lying there!
Look at him crying there!
Look at him dying there!

These are not your dreams.

All day staying there.
Praying there.
Decaying there.
Dreams inside a blind mind.
On a homeless person’s wrists there is no knowledge of time.


These are not your dreams.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

The Pacifying Path of the Piano By Jasen Sousa

The Pacifying Path of the Piano


Sun sinks into ground
and darkness carpets streets
when it hears the sound
of my heart’s rhythmic beats.

My vision has disappeared.
I reach out my hands looking for something to touch
as I move my foot forward, I hear it in the air,
I stand still, hush...

White tar on the street starts to move up and down,
I use what I hear to guide me.
In the dark listening to my heart’s sound,
ivory keys being struck inside me.

Sometimes when you can’t see, it’s important to listen.
I’m trying, I can’t see it from where I stand, but I know
it will lead me to find what has always been missing.
I walk across the pacifying path of the piano.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

The Broken Wings of a Blind Bird By Jasen Sousa

The Broken Wings of a Blind Bird


While others soared
it poured
on this blind bird
who was born without the ability to glide.
It couldn’t take to the skies
no matter how hard it tried.

While others soared
it poured
on this blind bird
who was born without sight.
It was forever night
for this blind bird born without the ability
to take flight.

This bird clings
to the ground
while others spread their wings.
Staring at a telephone wire,
never to fly any higher.
The blind bird
sings, it lives a happy life
because it never experienced a different vision.
The blind bird
has been told this is a normal way of living.

The blind bird
who can't reach the sky.
The blind bird
who can't see its potential to fly.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Memories in the Breeze By Jasen Sousa

Memories in the Breeze


Blowing, knowing, slowing, raging, fading, aging.
It has become a special occasion to recall
experiences in life that shape who we are, we’ve come so far,
yet it’s amazing how much gets lost in life’s blazing squall.

Gusts, trust, lust, lush, must, hush,
and listen to the wind roar.
The tales being told should never grow old,
do not ignore stories before that gently soar.

Name, became, fame, shame, rain, pain,
felt from fragile frames of fantastical figures you can no longer touch.
Faces taken off to places that are unknown, memories in the breeze roam.
People who are now at ease in the breeze, people who were loved so much.

Air, stare, where, there, clear, disappear,
don’t let them dissolve.
Help their emotions evolve so they are not ignored, remember this when the wind roars.
Memories in the breeze as long as the world continues to revolve.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

City Mountain By Jasen Sousa

City Mountain


To keep myself from drowning, I climb to the top of a city mountain.
During the ascent counting brick by brick.
Far away from city violence, I watch the city operate in silence.
The only known place in the city where you can’t hear the clock tick.

Smoke from vents seeps in through my senses,
sometimes clouds my vision.
Neon store signs illuminate my mind
shedding light on this inner city prison.

Buying things we don’t need, an empty hunger products temporarily feed.
Wasting our money, wasting our time, wasting our life.
A view of streets and city blocks, everyone seems to be brainwashed,
standing on top of city night.

Lines outside bars, the same lines who beg to see the stars.
Society at a stand still looking for soul mates,
heading in every direction, searching for love and affection,
waiting for the sun, when the city finally awakes.

Those who can’t deal with stress,
everyone looks to get high.
Ideas have been replaced with fears,
pollution and poverty palpitate over the city, you can no longer see a star in the sky.

Alas, it’s time to journey down this mountain of glass
and return to the jungle made of concrete.
Guns, drugs, gangs and a police force with fangs.
I come here to rise above what’s happening in the streets.




Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©

Friday, January 21, 2011

Somewhere Lost By Jasen Sousa - Order Directly From the Author : Special Limited Edition





$11.99
Order Your Copy of Somewhere Lost Now!!!
Please Visit JASENSOUSA.NET

Release Date January 24, 2011

DESCRIPTION

This collection of poems chronicles Jasen's relationships with people who have had substance abuse problems in their lives. This collection is not intended to ridicule those who have suffer from addiction, but rather show respect to their struggle to become free again. Addiction is not a fault or a weakness, it is a disease , and it just so happens that many of the people Jasen grew up with suffer from this disease, which puts the author in a unique position to tell this story, his story, and their stories, while trying to find some type of hope inside of this lonely, and repetitive urban experience.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Free Job Search Assistance

Know someone looking for a full-time, permanent, entry-level job?
Start 2011 off right and refer him or her to Career Collaborative!
All services are FREE!
We offer:
Four week job-readiness class
Individual job search assistance
Career development and job retention support for two years
Class start dates:
Monday January 31st
Monday March 7th
To apply:
Attend orientation any Thursday at 1:00
Bring a resume or list of previous jobs
Location:
77 Summer St. 11th Floor
Boston, MA 02110
(in Downtown Crossing)
For more information:
www.careercollaborative.org
(617) 424-6616

Friday, January 14, 2011

E-book Sales Rise Nearly 130% in November

E-book sales in November rose 129.7%, to $46.6 million, from the 14 publishers who report results to the Association of American Publishers’ monthly sales report. The gain was below the year-to-date average which has e-book sales ahead 165.6% through November, but was better than the 112.4% increase reported in October when e-book sales were $40.7 million. The $165.6% increase in the first 11 months of 2010 put e-book sales from the 14 companies at $391.9 million. With one month to go in 2010, it looks like e-books and downloadable audio will be the only trade segments to posts gains in the year with sales down in all the print segments at the publishers that report to the AAP; the mass market segment has the largest decline at 14.0%.

Bookstore Sales Up in November

Bookstore sales posted their first monthly increase since January in November, with the U.S. Census Bureau reporting that preliminary November sales rose 5.3%, to $1.09 billion. Results include all sales reported by bookstores and November numbers could reflect the increase in digital reading devices sold by bookstores, especially at Barnes & Noble. The numbers also reinforce reports that the Thanksgiving weekend was a good one for many bookstores, including independents. For the first 11 months of 2010, bookstore sales were still down 1.9%, to $14.41 billion. For the retail segment in general, November sales were up 9.0% and year-to-date sales ahead 6.5%.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

UPS Cartage Services Inc

JOB DESCRIPTION:

UPS Cartage Services Inc., is seeking a Dispatch Specialist to impact the organization by supporting DirectShip
operations, which involve coordinating carriers, capacity and equipment to meet customer shipping needs. This
position will assist in managing costs through choice of carriers and effective planning, in handling exceptions and
service recovery. Dispatch Specialists support customer relations by anticipating and responding to customer
needs, requests and issues.
Dispatch Specialists may be responsible for:
􀂄 Obtaining volume projections and converting volume projections to load projections
􀂄 Securing truckload capacity commitments from carriers
􀂄 Identifying and secure special equipment as needed to meet customer obligations
􀂄 Booking loads
􀂄 Verifying that the equipment (owned and third-party) location and capacity is availability
􀂄 Identifying and optimizing continuous equipment moves
􀂄 Using E2K to track loads
􀂄 Communicating exceptions to destination dispatch
􀂄 Conducting damage control and escalation as needed to resolve customer concerns
􀂄 Conducting service recovery and ensuring service requirements are met
􀂄 Communicating with customers, UPS, and carriers regarding exceptions
􀂄 Preparing load tracking reports and performance reports
􀂄 Assisting with freight audits by reviewing carrier invoices as they are received
􀂄 Working with customers to answer questions
􀂄 Fleet maintenance
Minimum Requirements
􀂄 Two-year associates degree preferred or equivalent experience relevant to the job.
􀂄 Generally, one year of experience in transportation dispatch or planning is required.
􀂄 Experience with the UPS hub and feeder system is ideal.
􀂄 Proficiency in English required.
􀂄 Candidates must be available to work flexible hours, including nights, weekends, and holidays.
􀂄 The ability to multi-task would be highly beneficial
􀂄 Intermediate Microsoft Office (Word, Excel, Access, and Outlook) skills
BASIC QUALIFICATIONS:
􀂄 An Associate’s Degree is preferred.
􀂄 One year of experience in transportation dispatch or planning is required.
􀂄 An intermediate knowledge of Microsoft Office Suite (e.g., Excel, Word, Access, and Outlook) is required.
􀂄 Availability and willingness to work flexible hours, including nights, weekends, and holidays is required.
􀂄 Legal authorization to work in the US is required.
OTHER CRITERIA:
Employer will not sponsor visas for position.
There is no relocation available for this position.
UPS is an Equal Opportunity Employer

Feb. 19 - Job Fair for Ex-Offenders

Feb. 19 - Job Fair for Ex-Offenders

The Center for Church and Prison, in collaboration with the Urban League of Boston, the Anthony Perkins Community Center, the Stanley Jones Clean Slate Project, the Judge Banks Community Justice Program, and the Greater Love Tabernacle is sponsoring a "Job Fair for Former Inmates: Making Money Beyond CORI" on Saturday, Feb. 19 from 10am to 4pm at the Anthony Perkins Community Center, 155 Talbot Ave. in Dorchester.

According to the event flyer, requirements for participating in the event are:
• Will Power to Work
• Integrity to Keep your Job
• Commitment to achieve Financial Independence on your Job.
• Dress: Professional: Come Ready to Be Interviewed!!!

For more information, contact Rev. George Walters-Sleyon at 781-233-1528 or visit http://www.churchandprison.org/

According to its website, The Center for Church and Prison is an interdenominational faith-based resource and research center working to link the Church with the prison and the prisoner, to develop strategic programs and initiatives that lead to decline in the high rates of incarceration and recidivism especially of black men in the prison system with the hope to rehabilitate and restore the prisoner on the basis of faith, virtue and family. The Center for Church and Prison is not a prison ministry. The Goals of the Center are:
 Prevention, Reform, Restoration and Rehabilitation of the imprisoned.
 Connecting to available resources and intervention programs.
 Working with churches and individuals to enhance their prison ministries, prevent incarceration, develop reintegration and counseling programs, etc.

Monday, January 10, 2011

AMTRAK HIRING-Great jobs for young men who aren't in college and strong young women

AMTRAK HIRING -

EXCELLENT OPPORTUNITY THAT DOES NOT REQUIRE A DEGREE! PASS-ON TO SOMEONE
WHO CAN USE THIS!

Great jobs for young men who aren't in college and strong young women
also! This is Obama money for "infrastructure" the jobs are located all
over, paid training in Atlanta. This is an awesome opportunity, please
pass this on. These jobs pay good wages.


Training: You will attend two or three weeks of training at the Railroad
Education & Development Institute in Atlanta , GA. CSX will pay for
travel, lodging and meals as required by collective bargaining agreement.

Track Worker-030702 Job Summary: Work as a member of a crew to install new
railroad track, maintain existing track and right-of-way. Replace or
repair track switches with specific components. Slide and align tie
plates. Drill holes through rails for insertion of bolts and tighten or
loosen bolts at joints that hold ends or rails together. Correct
deviations in track surface, alignment and gauge
Cut rails to specific lengths etc.

Pay Rate Entry Rate $19.36/hour Full Rate $21.52/hour Promotional/
Advancement Opportunities:
Under Maintenance of Way Collective Bargaining Agreement, Track Workers
may be considered for advancement
or promotion to other positions within the Engineering Department if
qualified.

Machine Operator $23.25 - $24.81/hour
Welder Helper $21.93/hour
Bridge Tender $21.93/hour
Bridge Mechanic $22.65/hour
Foreman $22.71 - $25.53/hour
Track Inspector $23.98 - $25.14/hour

Qualifications: High School diploma/GED; 18 years of age or older; Valid
Driver's License

At CSX, two of the company's core values are People Make The Difference
and Safety Is A Way of Life. We are committed
to offering our team members the most competitive compensation and
benefits package available, unlimited opportunities
for development and growth throughout an exciting and rewarding career,
and the safest work environment possible.
CSX is an Equal Opportunity / Affirmative Action Employer that supports
diversity in the workplace.

Apply online to this and other positions:
http://www.csx.com/?fuseaction=careers.main



Jasen Sousa
Founder of J-Rock Publishing
Office Phone (781) 254-9123
E-mail-jasensousa@jrockpublishing.com


Catch me on the web at:
jasensousa.net
jrockpublishing.com
MySpace.com/jasensousa
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