The funeral marches to graves
The descending of curtains
An end to come
The march to finality
A marching to dust
Tarrying to the night
The quiet hollow
The aura of sadness
The exist of a mortal
Death,
A coming at will.
Death,
The king of one’s soul.
Death,
The Lord of the night.
Death,
A silence to life.
Death,
The lion of the forest.
Death,
The ruler of the mountains.
Death,
A piercing of hearts.
Death,
It’s tattoo forever a mark.
Death,
A ticking of the clocks.
Death,
A bringer of eternal peace.
The sweet relieve it bringeth
The residing of mortals
Death,
A bringer of grief.
Death,
A planting of sadness.
Death,
An anthem of black flames.
Death,
A war veteran’s dirge.
Death,
A thief of the night.
Death,
A certainty for all.
Death,
The burn out match stick in one’s ashtray.
Death,
The whither of bones.
Death,
A tragedy to life.
Death,
An endless sleep to one’s soul.
Death cometh
A sweet relief
One’s death
The glowing of darkness
Death,
A mortal’s final rest.
Death,
The ugliness to a beauty.
Death,
The letting out of a final sigh.
Death,
The calling from one’s ancestors.
Death,
A passing through the night.
Death,
The end to one’s pleasurable life.
Death,
I float this Carol,
To you I sing.

Written by Tosan Oluwakemi Thompson

He raised up his head,
Trying to speak,
Yet speaking nothing.

She opened her mouth,
Trying to mutter words,
Yet nothing coming out.

I can't breathe
Words never to be forgotten

I can't breathe
Words we carry on placards

I can't breathe
Words kicking down whiteness

I can't breathe
Words doing-away with racism

I can't breathe
Words demanding equality

I can't breathe
Words bridging the white and black gap

I can't breathe
Words changing the times

I can't breathe
Words destroying white supremacy

I can't breathe
Words uniting colors

I can't breathe
Words uniting races

I can't breathe
Words signifying unity

I can't breathe
Words causing race inequality uproar

I can't breathe
Words knocking down white brutality

I can't breathe
Words ending police brutality

I can't breathe
Words
Great words
Creating equality for all race
Ending police brutality
Doing-away white supremacy
Uniting all race
Uniting all colors
A must for all nations

Written by Tosan Oluwakemi Thompson

A brown man
Standing,
Shouting,
Speaking radicalising words.
Marching as to war
Showing placards of his grief,
Depicting foreheads of vagabonds,
Reminding others of past slavery.
Their de-subjectification of freedom
Their voices,
A singular connotation of enough-is-enough
An appetite for recognition
A planting for equality
A right to color
A plea bargain for respect,
Yet writing a throwaway of discrimination.
A caged bird,
Wanting to soar far beyond whiteness.
Demanding equal previlege
A demand costly but needed
Their melancholy of racial assimilation
Our sanguine of identity

Their windspread of hatred
Our moment to canvas light
Black
A shadow of itself
A belonging for many
A colour they deem despicable,
Yet a horizon we cherish.
Looking to the future
A beautiful future
I too
She too
He too
Us too
They too
Black too
Will sit at the table of colors
A dream I hope so dear

Written by Tosan Oluwakemi Thompson

Where I am
                Where I stand
                Dissatisfaction,
                My daily song.
                Dissatisfaction,
                My present emotion.
                I am no longer burning with passion
                I long for more beauty
                The vanity I seek,
                What a fair one I know.
                My latest predicament,
                A longing for better times.
                I crave for something better
                I want a new flame
                In this spring of discontent
               A float of an invisible,
               Yet having springs of a vague tomorrow.

They tell us,
About a great future.
They tell us it is coming,
Not today but tomorrow.

Our dear Nigeria,
A safari for its rulers,
Stealing our freedom,
Yet showing a victorious future.

Our leaders,
They keep on telling us,
Democracy,
Of the people,
By the people,
For the people.

They come as bearers,
Bearing freedom,
Removing slavery's chains and rods,
Yet trampling on our humanity.

Our leader's democracy,
A temple built with words,
Yet plastering it with,
Power and constant deceit.

They bribe our conscience
They fail to discharge their duties,
Yet singing victorious praises of their democracy,
Telling the world of vague achievements.

They play their drama,
Displaying it in public,
Showing a ****-a-doodle-doo of theatre,
Narrating nothing significant.

They claim to hear our cries,
Yet they are blind spectators of beauty,
Having no eat for our mass cries.

Democracy,
Their ideology of power.
Their way of life
A culture so dear to them

Democracy,
A backwash from future's deep
A begraggle of corrupt leaders
A pointer to Me, My Belly and I

They claim we have rights,
Yet they keep us in chains.
Their democracy,
An emblem of an immoral compass.

I look out my balcony window,
Waiting for change.
I stand at my front door,
Hoping for a brighter tomorrow.

My father waited
My mother hoped
I in turn prayed
Our children echoed

I dream of a great democracy
I dream of liberation
I put down my pen,
It is tired of being,
Mightier than the sword.

Oh democracy
I raise my hand up in your honour
Nigeria's democracy,
Our leaders' famous slogan.

Players,
Upon people’s weaknesses they play.
Tramplers,
Upon people’s happiness they trample upon.

They preach,
Oh they preach,
Preachers of men,
Preaching their manifestos.

Their mass oppressions,
A whipstroke of slavery,
Keeping freedom away,
Allowing unspoken speeches.

Mr. Government!
Your planting of truth,
Yet acting lies,
Like Lucifer upon earth.

Our lost lands,
The cornering of leaders.
Our cherished freedom,
The bounds of greedy mortals.

Their moral compass,
A dumpling for gutters.
The words of restructuring,
A lie they tell to sleep at night.

The revolting of souls,
A bribery round the corner.
The dawn of a new day,
A shutting down of a never casted dye.

The Bantu they throw at us,
An education of their disloyalty.
Equality they preach,
Yet enjoying the fruits of our labour.

Our heroes past,
A burden dropped,
To be forgotten,
Yet remembered for belly sake.

Me, My belly and I,
A stomach infrastructure,
Catering only to the rich,
Yet diminishing the poor.

The controllers of affairs,
Dictating one’s future
Offering obedient slaves,
A slaughtering for their ****** souls.

Their theatre signatory,
A passing for comedy.
Our leaders,
A legacy of betrayal.

The citations of a bad fruit,
Their forever plantings,
Bringing over odour,
Of sadness and slavery.

An act of niceness,
Yet taking my bones at every given chance.
Giving us no choice,
Yet claiming we have no bounds.

Stirring us along
Giving us hope
Talking of a bright light,
Yet sinking in your treacherous torture.

Stealing of freedom from our lips
Pushing us into the dark quarters
Digging our early graves,
Yet cometh like a Redeemer.

Telling us of your democracy,
Yet ripping off our fundamental rights.
Your dictatorship,
Creating our unfree society.

Coming out,
Telling us of our victorious times,
A bribery to generations,
Yet helping to dig out graves.

Giving heart-warming patriotic speeches
Telling us not to be afraid,
Portraying tunnels of hope,
A bribery we didn’t reject.

Your illusion of a god-complex
Crushing everything in your path
Giving false hope
A mockery we carry on our foreheads

Our daily tyrants,
Walking freely,
Taking slaves,
Yet leaving no man to rise.

We envisaged a better tomorrow
Leaving the past behind
Creating new dreams
A dream you cut short

Our pens as placards
Establishing dictatorship
Safeguarding a revolution
Writing hopes of tomorrow

Your speeches
Bringing apathetic graves
Letting out your brutality
Showing life’s forces

You stand on the hill
Shouting your command
We all gather in fear
Singing silently “dictatorship free us now”

Written by Tosan Oluwakemi Thompson

A deprivation,
Bringing generations to their knees.
A subtle punishment,
Delaying life's better quality.

A dominant horror,
Passing down generations,
Leaving life's misery,
Bringing eternity curses.

A silent thief,
Robbing futures,
Yet giving hope,
For a no tomorrow.

A poor man's lone companion
A stopping of greatness
A faceless monster,
Yet giving faces to the poor.

A stranger walking freely
A tormentor spreading its stings
A taker of joy
A bringer of sadness

You stand in the crowd,
Picking your victims,
Creating generational limitations,
Yet subtle you came.

Written by Tosan Oluwakemi Thompson