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Kenneth E. Foster Jr. 
"The GLORY of friendship is not the outstretched hand nor the kindly smile; it is the Spiritual Inspiration that comes to one with he discovers that someone else believes in him and is willing to TRUST him with his friendship. Nothing is great like friendship on earth, no jewel, no pearl has got its worth."
I'm very fortunate to say that I've experienced the above and through this experience I've come to value and appreciate this process - if I didn't you wouldn't be reading my words today. The above quote is necessary to be heard because this is truly a delicate process and there is a lot of trust that is put into it. This trust comes from the way we make ourselves open and vulnerable to each other.
Without a doubt, you all have proven to be the bravest - challenging yourselves in this way and finding the ability to transcend beyond the stereotypes and barriers. This is truly the god-like and while ones may ask "why?", "for what?" - let's be glad that ones like Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Jesus, Mandela didn't cease when asked. As they, perhaps it's through these personal sacrifices that we find the hidden beauties of life.
At 27 years-old and having been striving on death row for 6 years my struggle has turned into a Journey. Each year has been a moment of Growth for me and I see each day as a day to further develop my Mind, Body and Soul. If I had to describe myself in one way it'd be a Fighter because I've dedicated my life to fighting against the stigmas placed on EVERY man here.
My daily efforts are many. I humbly classify myself as a socio-political prisoner activist and I've been actively fighting against my Wrongful conviction for years now. I work with several anti-death penalty groups and have been blessed to formulate my own (Visions For L.I.F.E.). I passionately write, I study with a determination to gain knowledge - no subject being off limits to my mind and I put forth my every effort to work on conscious and positive endeavors to enlighten the public. I have other sites up displaying all of these things and I'd like for more of the world to see them.
I would like to keep this cycle forever expanding. What I've said above may be somewhat "deep" or serious, but I guess you can say I speak from an inner-sense of knowing. Its purpose through what we do so if you share that sentiment please reach out to me. I hope we can talk soon.
www.kennethfoster.de
www.visionsforlife.net
Thank you!
Address: Kenneth E. Foster Jr. #999232
3872 FM 350 South (Polunsky Unit)
Livingston, TX 77351
Birthdate: October 22/1976
Expected Date of Release: Hopefully soon 
I'd like to introduce you all to the MOST PERSONAL side of myself and that's because it's an "intimate" look at the depth of my being and not a political or common one. While many prisoners write poetry only a handful takes it to a higher levels that challenge themselves and others. For me, poetry is like Yoga or Meditation. In fact, it's a therapy for me. I've only been writing poetry since 2000 and put out my 1st book, "Tribulation's Eyes", (a spiritual text of Struggle, elevation and inner-reflection) in 2001. I'm currently working on 4 manuscripts, my focus of the 4 being a theme of "African Meditations" touching on various subjects of Social/Political/Cultural issues directed at my culture. Those walking near or in my shoes, "I" feel, need to be profoundly touched. Through reading and studying poetry I've educated myself in immense ways absorbing love, pain, beauty, sacrifice and responsibility in rhythmic stanzas. Through writing poetry I've entered into my Higher-Self and elevated above and beyond this hell. Here, I grant you 2 brief glimpses into my spirit, but I do hope to share so much more with you all.
in my cell
from my eyes
as death reaches up
through my spine
turning me into
a puppet
reflecting shadows
on the wall
of crucifixes/
cotton field
and carousels
and I dance around
my cage
chanting in tongues
dragging my feet
on concrete
that's been
callousing my soul
for 7 years
my pace quickens
my knees lift
my spirit drops
my heart listens
to the beat
of others
Mother
pendeza*
Father
asante*
Brother
cut my strings
Sister
hold me
i'm tired
i'm fire
consuming faith
confronting my future
revealed in sweat beads
racing down my face
fate
hello
goodbye
tomorrow
i'm struggling
to canoe
down Rage River
and climb Pain's Peak
but i make it
i refuse to quit
i wave my fist
death retracts
let's go
cuts my strings
"we'll
dance
again!"
(*KiSwahili for please, thank-you)
at the edge of my lips
as I search within me
to find adjectives
to express
what i will be -
resistant,
cultivated,
teachable.
i'm in auschwitz,
ethiopia,
iraq,
but all the while realizing
i'm in amerika.
i'd rather be in
kingston,
paris,
tunisia,
but all the while realizing
i'm in amerika.
my days begin
with me in the mirror
repeating
gandhi,
psalms,
mumia
ending with'
jesus,
muhammad,
prayer-
because of this
i've been accused
of dealing w/divinations
when all i sought
was peace.
my serious brown face
stands out from
cold grey steel
my identity,
sanity,
health.
i don't have much time to talk
cause i'm steadily
screaming,
arguing,
fighting
on paper
for thr one word prayer
called JUSTICE.
do these envelopes
steal my words
everytime i write
because every year
this fight seems
a year too long?
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