My Feet Are An Endpin
Monday, 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 fingerboard
Is constantly pressed And squeezed and slapped
—Abused by my own hand.
My mouth and tongue are f-holes
Through which my inner vibrationsAre released into the air.
My heart is a bridge
Keeping my thoughts In their rightful place
But also connecting
My body and mind.
My bones make up my sound-post
Holding me togetherAnd providing the structure
Necessary to speak.
My feet are an endpin
Grounding meAnd connecting me
To my surroundings.
Occasionally a bow comes along
Forcing me to do or sayThe opposite of my desires
Moving me
And playing me
Like an instrument,
A toy.
I am a cello
Here to say what I want
How 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.