The Next One

[Erthona]

The Next One

She knew you still loved her
when she called to ask for help.
A love she had never returned,
but now she was in a real jam.
For just $10,000 you could be
her knight in shining armor.
Of course, of course you would help.
You drained all the money you had,
like the last drop of blood…
To buy her freedom, to buy her love.

Off the plane,
adjusting your backpack to your right shoulder,
you pulled out the address and hailed a cab.
You were a little nervous
when the taxi dropped you off
in a rundown part of town.
You knocked on the door.
An older women let you in,
then blackness.
Fighting back to consciousness,
hands tight behind your back,
knees in sand,
you hear her voice somewhere near you,
“OK, but I get to do the next one.”

–Erthona


©2014

[ThisGuy1]

I like it. It has a soft meaning, and it's really well worded

[tectak]

I like it. It has a soft meaning, and it's really well worded

Please read the site information on the definition of valid critique. This is perfect example of what it is not. You are to be congratulated.
On a serious point, critique should at least make some useful comment towards improving the piece; even if it is only the spelling correction of "shinning". See? How hard was that.
Mod

[Erthona]

shining/fixed

gratitude expressed--

end of transmission

[Truerenigma]

Erthona,

I enjoyed reading this. The sentimentality, commonality, and vernacular in the beginning made it feel authentic, and I wasn't expecting much, then when got to "off the plane" there were so many questions (but not too many) that I was pulled in and had to follow the narrative to figure it all out. When I saw a metaphor behind it all at the end it was a big surprise, and I was effected by it.

Now, that being said, notice the above paragraph is in past tense. I already know what happens so I probably won't read it again. I may share it with someone, but I won't come back to it one night by the fireplace in an armchair with a glass of wine, or whatever you kids are drinking these days. It is very prosaic and reads like flash fiction; good, concise flash fiction, and a nice succinct metaphor, but nonetheless, well written or not, there is not much texture--nothing in specific the word choice, rhythm, use of the line and breaks, sounds--nothing that engages the body and senses in a way that will make that original experience brand new, or bring it to life for me, again.

Thanks for posting.

[Erthona]

TE,

I agree, it has little of poetry in it. More a short narrative than a poem. I thought about putting it in short form, but I knew someone would say it's not short enough. That's not usually the problem. Oh well, it is unreasonable to expect consistency in an inconsistent world.
I actually thought about you when I was writing this, as it seemed more your style than mine, but I don't argue with them, I just catch them as they come out of the shoot. I started to add more, but then I thought, what would TE do? and decided against it!
The last four lines are in present tense.
I figured the blood spurting from his headless body was texture enough

Thanks for your comments, as always, appreciated.


Dale

[Truerenigma]

The last four lines are in present tense. Sad

I meant the first paragraph of /my comments/ were in past tense. which means, dammit, you made me lose another bet to the absurdists.

What would I do? I dunno. Probably ask myself what jacob would do; but then I've been known to argue with the gods, and we only get along when jesus is at the party with his flask and peace pipe, cause I ain't bringin no lambs.

I have no idea how you'll interpret that. I think it makes sense but I have no idea what it means.

[Erthona]

TE,

"I meant the first paragraph of" I knew, I was just "funin' ya" as the rednecks used to say where I grew up.

I'm not sure Jacob is doing so well lately in his decision making process, seems to have pissed off a lot of people.

"jesus is at the party with his flask and peace pipe, cause I ain't bringin no lambs."

Yeah, but god always bogarts the pipe!

" cause I ain't bringin no lambs."

Too bad, I just got the new auto sheep 5000 from Egypt, that automatically tells you if your sheep has any black hairs, plus jesus is such a hairy bastard
Well just don't forget to bring the hamas, or that hummus? (I never was a fan of chickpeas, although I liked that Beatles song "Golden Showers").

Well, keep your knife sharp.

Dale

ps
pss
psst

I like your new avatar, it reminds me of babbage's 'difference engine', except it's not a cylinder, or in a vertical position. But, it is interesting to look at, even if it doesn't do anything. Kinda like a blonde!

[Truerenigma]

I'm not sure Jacob is doing so well lately in his decision making process, seems to have pissed off a lot of people.

meh, that makes sense too but maybe we should stop there before the metaphor gets any more mixed and convoluted.

I could see that metaphysical knife getting outta hand too.

Just ignore the black hairs, in the end they all go grey.

---

besides, I thought the question was what I would do if I were you :p

But, it is interesting to look at, even if it doesn't do anything.

I never asked it to do, just /be/.

wink wink

[Erthona]

"I could see that metaphysical knife getting outta hand too." That's bris baby*.

Let it be!

Dale

*Allusion to Lipton Iced Tea commercial: "That's brisk baby!"

[Truerenigma]

down here we make our own sweet tea.

[Erthona]

Implication at the end is this girl that called him to help her is really a ISIS terrorist, and wanted to "do him", to kill him by beheading him. There were a number of stories in the news about teen girls who had gone to Syria because they wanted to learn to behead people. I'll walk you through.

Fighting back to consciousness, (he wakes up after getting knocked out)
hands tight behind your back, (his hands are tied behind his back)
knees in sand, (he is kneeling in the sand, a la, other videos of westerners being beheaded)
you hear her voice somewhere near you, (They guy who is kneeling in the sand hears the voice of the girl he came to "rescue" near by)
“OK, but I get to do the next one.” (The "girl" complaining that she does not get to behead him. The ultimate betrayal, but it is not as
though his motives were pure.)


To "do" someone is pretty well known slang meaning to either have sex with someone, or kill someone.

The Mafia boss says to Leto, "Leto, I want youse to do this guy, I want youse to do this guy now!"
"Sure thing boss, consider him done."

Thanks for your comments, I'll consider expanding the end some. I did have him wearing the orange jump suit that all the guys they beheaded were wearing. Maybe I'll bring that and some other things back to make it more clear.

Dale

[Beacherjosh]

I loved this piece. I thought is was going to be a generic "still stuck in love" poem, and in some ways it was, but lines like, "adjusting your backpack to your right shoulder" gave it personality which I found very appealing. For some reason I think a further plot twist at the end would be a nice touch, like you are getting your mother or relative out of jail (I'm assuming the 10,000 was bail money).

[Erthona]

Thanks for giving it a read.

Dale

[billy]

i would have probably would said "it's way to long fr short form"

it reads more as prose for me, it's not a bad read but like true said, there's little ambiguity to make the return or to allow them to see it on more than one level. i wasn't expecting the hood. the poem has two possibilities; either your paying a ransom or it's a trap, i see her as a right bastard and it's a trap.

TE,

I agree, it has little of poetry in it. More a short narrative than a poem. I thought about putting it in short form, but I knew someone would say it's not short enough. That's not usually the problem. Oh well, it is unreasonable to expect consistency in an inconsistent world.  
I actually thought about you when I was writing this, as it seemed more your style than mine, but I don't argue with them, I just catch them as they come out of the shoot. I started to add more, but then I thought, what would TE do? and decided against it!  
The last four lines are in present tense.
I figured the blood spurting from his headless body was texture enough

Thanks for your comments, as always, appreciated.


Dale

[shemthepenman]

hello

Using the  second person is usually a clunky device announcing 'hey, look I'm writing in the  second person. I can do that, you know. I'm a poet.' Rather than adding anything purposeful  to the  poem. There are exceptions,  of course. This, however, is not one  of them.
There are some cliche phrases (knight in shining armor,  fighting back to consciousness) that seem lazy, and coupled with the second person narrative (that at times doesn't even seem itself to really want to be the second person, i.e. 'of course, of course you would help'), it all feels a bit clumsy.
Also, why the ellipsis after blood? Furthermore, if you insist on the ellipse, then surely 'to' in 'to buy[...]' shouldn't be capitalised.
Also,  the poem gives some very specific details ($10,000, over your right shoulder) that as far as I can tell are dead ends, like fluff giving extra padding.
You suggested that the fellow's intentions where not altogether pure. thought here is no suggestion within the ppoem (implied  or otherwise) that this is the case. And at the end one thinks,  what a fucking idiot... or I did anyway. But at no point did I think, dirty old man or the like.
The ISIS thing went right over my head.I  haven't heard about the stories you mentioned, however,  I am not  entirely sure it need be made any more clear; simply because I got the gist of a man being tricked, knocked unconscious and about to  be killed. In fact, before I had read the ISIS remark I kind of liked the fact I didn't know,  because there are a million bullshit reasons why people do this kind  of thing (usually money), and the vagueness  of reason adds an uncertain sickness to the poem, which I  like.

The Next One

She knew you still loved her
when she called to ask for help.
A love she had never returned,
but now she was in a real jam.
For just $10,000 you could be
her knight in shining armor.
Of course, of course you would help.
You drained all the money you had,
like the last drop of blood…
To buy her freedom, to buy her love.

Off the plane,
adjusting your backpack to your right shoulder,
you pulled out the address and hailed a cab.
You were a little nervous
when the taxi dropped you off
in a rundown part of town.
You knocked on the door.
An older women let you in,
then blackness.
Fighting back to consciousness,
hands tight behind your back,
knees in sand,
you hear her voice somewhere near you,
“OK, but I get to do the next one.”

 –Erthona


©2014