Waiting
- Peter Joseph Paul ©2017
- Feb 10, 2017
- 1 min read
I sit here waiting patiently to be hit. I am not a masochist and I don't enjoy pain. I am waiting to be struck. Anticipating a vibration,a sensation. Waiting to ring out in a glorious metallic tone. To resonate the frequency I have grown accustomed to. To envelop me in the sound,to bring a sizzle and clarity to a piece of musical composition.
I sit here waiting to be struck,carressed by a wooden stick or mallet. To be tickled by a rapid massage in the jazz of the moment or crashed upon by a metal monster. It doesn't matter who will do the beating or the incessant pounding. I don't care as long as I am struck.
It could be a delicate touch or a massive thrashing. It doesn't matter to me as long as I am hit. For I am a cymbal.
And we cymbals live to be hit!
Recent Posts
See AllMy home is the recording studio. Minute after minute,hour after hour, day after day, week after week, month after month,year after year,...
It's dark in here with all the others. My owner, the percussionist chooses to keep us in an old wooden suitcase, which has been my home...