Intro
You have never known what loneliness is.
                          It is not that you have not experienced being alone,
                          But you have never unraveled yourself
                          for long enough to understand how an arm can
                          only be extended as far as the shoulder allows.
                          You have never known what loneliness is because
                          being unlonely has never been outside arm’s reach.
                          
Separation
There are only seven places in the universe
                          where your heart can be at any one time
                          at least that’s what the experiment showed.
Having reduced you to a framework of values
                          your heart would then, logically,
                          be in seven locations.
                          But the world refuses to
                          operate within
                          a framework.
                          And beauty refuses to
                          exist within
                          a controlled environment.
                          (They say an experiment is only as good as its observer.
                                      I still don’t know the difference between an experiment and beauty.)
Running
They’re sharing a drink they call loneliness, but it’s better than drinking alone.
                             –     Billy Joel.
You have surrounded yourself with people to run away from yourself
You run away from yourself by surrounding yourself with people.
Your/self no longer exists, only the people surrounding you, keeping you running.
You no longer know what your/self looks like, only the sound of its footsteps – running after you.
You only keep running because you started running and are afraid of what will happen if you stop.
Drink up.
Isolation
There is not often
                          a new noise.
                          Save for a neighbour’s
                          repetitive taste
                          in Nigerian soap operas
                          and the gathering of children
                          killing boredom.
                          Sometimes, at night,
                          the silent moans
                          of muffled love
                          travel across the hallway
                          and bounce off the walls
                          where your prayers once
                          etched themselves.
Running
                          (faster)
Let’s say there was a
                          single speck of sand
                          sitting still surrounded by
                          millions of other specks
                          of sand.
                          Would the sand be forced
                          to consider its significance
                          in the composition of the beach?
Let’s say the waves
                          carry our speck of sand
                          further out to sea
                          than specks are meant to be.
Would it compose poems
                          about the comforting warmth
                          of the crack between a
                          a tourist’s toes?
An Interjection
Perhaps
                          life is just helping us
                          gather the strength
                          to be dead.
Perhaps loneliness
                          is preparation
                          for eternity.
Soliloquy
Surely this thing you are feeling
                          must go beyond text book definitions.
                          “Dejected by the awareness of being alone”
                          Maybe this thing that you have
                          called loneliness is nothing but
                          a dog wandering the streets
                          looking for a bush that it has not yet
                          peed on.
A speck of sand surfs
                          the waves,
                          waiting to be washed up
                          on the closest beach.
A Caricature of Intimacy™
There’s an old couple that used to live right before you get to the estate gate.
                          Every morning he got up, had a glass of juice and headed out – walking the long way round to get the paper. The walks, he insisted, were good for him – they kept him fit. She didn’t mind, she liked knowing what was in the news.
                          The day after her death he got up, had a glass of juice and set off on his walk, never to return.
The Search
I’m still out in the world
                          gathering the pieces of
                          your heart
                          from everyone I see.
Outro
The final will and testament
                          of the speck that matters
                          is only one line long
“I leave everything I own to the sea.”
About the Author:
Michael Onsando is a Jazz writer and Co Founder of Brainstorm Kenya. You can find more of his poetry on his site Unlike Myself.
