Iâm sable brown like the baobab tree,
literally, Iâm âQasasiâ! My mother named
me âPoetryâ, a life painter, Iâm philosophy;
old strangers swear they know me so they
sent ancestors here to hold me
like my birth was something holy.
Artistically I get jazzed up like Coltrane or
Ellington, the struggles now are the struggles
then and youâd be amazed at the type of
shit I found myself in; then again, the struggles
then are, here again, nowâs the same shit, man!
I am Spirit and imagination, like music painting
what Iâm saying. calligraphic lost tribes dancing in
the sand, the real Benjamin, Ruben & Dan,
Moors who became captives in a strange land
are all my ingredients, Iâm a made man.
Pull minerals from the depths of the sea & jewels
that only the gifted see, add fire, earth, animal
& trees, GOD made the physical makings of me;
HE blew the breath of something special in me,
like the love of a woman special to me, a whole
other level of me that only a beautified heart can see.
© Kesauâc N. Hill

Excerpt from his book Serengeti Noise
$12.95 Plus Shipping ~ Available at CTU Publishing Group and Amazon.com
About the Author
Kesauâc N. Hill is an ex-gang member who, at the age of sixteen, was convicted of murder and sentenced to serve 15-years to Life in the California Department of Corrections. Fighting became a lifestyle that would accompany the gang world deathstyle. However, he would soon be mentored by an English teacher named John Murphy who saw past his tough guy exterior into something explosively creative.
He introduced him to the art of poetry and the power of the spoken word. Heâd use that power to his advantage when his life serving Life became too difficult to bear. By defiantly writing poetry all over his prison cell walls âmeaningâ and âPassionâ was discovered, hope and a sound vision was realized. Quite literally, poetry saved his life.
Visit Kesauâc Hillâs Author Page At www.ctupublishinggroup.com/kesau-c-n.-hill.html
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