My Feet Are An EndpinMonday, February 09, 2015
I Am Cello
Lawren - June 21 2012
Plucking and picking itself out of tune
And though out of tune itself
Molds and bends to be in tune
Relative to others.
My skin like a mahogany fingerboardIs constantly pressed
And squeezed and slapped
—Abused by my own hand.
My mouth and tongue are f-holesThrough which my inner vibrations
Are released into the air.
My heart is a bridgeKeeping my thoughts
In their rightful place
But also connecting
My body and mind.
My bones make up my sound-postHolding me together
And providing the structure
Necessary to speak.
My feet are an endpinGrounding me
And connecting me
To my surroundings.
Occasionally a bow comes alongForcing me to do or say
The opposite of my desires
And playing me
Like an instrument,
I am a cello
Here to say what I wantHow I want.
Though my strings need occasional tuning,
I decide how they sound
And when they sound.
Although I am sometimes used by others
For their gain
I am always in control of my expression.