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Sunday Whirl 161

force, bread, chaos, disaster, alabaster, mine, altitude, plastic, people, graphic

Her giant plastic boobs and her alabaster skin
would drive the young men mad with lust to get with her, within.
The sultry mien upon her face, eyes burning up with lust
and how she moaned upon the screen whenever she was touched.

Her writhing, graphic nudity, this object of desire
for some would replace drink and bread, yes even warmth from fire.
The force which she was taken with on-screen was a disaster
for any pious people who their feelings couldn’t master!

The outcry, yes the outrage, oh please think of our young ones!
We can not let them be misled! What of our innocent sons?
Who gets to see this lustfulness, reserved for man and wife
and not displayed depravity, the worst we’ve seen in life!

Yet high above, at altitude, far away from all disgrace
there sat the movie-maker men, delighted by the chaos
for any public outrage, for indecency or morals
will basically, and this is true, to them mean just more dollars!

For the Sunday Whirl and Wordle 161… And I apologize for using poetic license with the word ‘mine’ which got turned into ‘mien’ for the sake of the poem – and for (according to my spell-check) inventing the word lustfulness…

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I am a bit of a coward when it comes to movies, following the beaten path mostly and very infrequently at that. I rarely watch movies that aren’t English or German (or possibly Swedish) since my brain still keeps trying to understand what’s being said even when the film is in a language I don’t understand, which of course means that I miss out on a lot of the action. In short, my world of movies is rather narrow. However, today, along with a friend who also writes (and who I admire terribly) I, willingly, put myself in the position of watching a movie that left me absolutely distraught and completely exhausted. And it was in Korean!

It started out innocently enough, we wanted to go watch a movie in the afternoon. Of course, nothing worth watching ever starts when you spontaneously decide you want to go see it and a newspaper had to be purchased and perused over coffee (not a bad way to spend a Sunday afternoon, really). And there it was, the perfect film for two word-freaks like us: Poetry. Neither of us had ever heard of the film, and a quick visit to iMDb showed rave revues, international awards and nominations and a trailer that looked exotic and interesting. ‘Oh, and it’s in Japanese’, said I. ‘No, it’s in Chinese’, said my friend. Safe to say, it was in a language foreign enough to both of us to be intriguing but not frightening.

About two hours later we emerged into the late afternoon sunshine, beautiful August Stockholm, my friend seemingly unaffected (but he would) and I was a blubbering, crying emotional wreck! Somewhere in the darkness of the cinema, regardless of the fact that I couldn’t understand the language (which was beautiful, by the way), I started feeling such raw emotions I couldn’t stop myself from crying. And once I start crying it takes me a long time to stop. She was so lonely! Oh, my God I’m lonely and when I get to 65 I’ll be even lonelier! She couldn’t control her environments’ expectations of her! Oh, my God I can’t control my environment’s expectations of me! She was struggling to let out her inner words! Oh, my God… Well, no, I don’t suppose I have that particular problem (rather the opposite one), but it is a consistent fear of mine, the not being able to continue writing. Nobody listened to her! Nobody cared about her! She couldn’t tell people around her what was going on…

I know full well I am not a 65-year-old Korean woman of modest means, raising an ungrateful, disrespectful teenager for a daughter who appears to not give a damned about anything other than herself and who is trying to express herself for the first time ever. I know this. But something in this movie just opened emotional conduits inside of me and left me feeling more or less emotionally raped. Is that a good thing? I don’t know. But it is, to me, the sign of an incredibly strong movie that impacts beyond the outer layers. I would recommend anyone interested in the off the beaten track, exotic, nitty-gritty and emotionally raw to go see this film in a second! Do not expect the film to spoon-feed you the story or explain itself. Do not expect beautiful people or anything you are familiar with. But bring loads of tissues, at least if you are as emotionally unstable as I am, and be prepared to be amazed at how diverse life can be…

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Wounded by a Hobbit, killed by a woman
I don’t think I have ever
viewed it this way before!

There is room for both of us,
if you just want it!
We could be more – and more, more and more!

I’m not begging, pleading
or even asking
I’m not even going to pretend it’s changed!

For fuck’s sake, you Hobbit
you know what I’m saying!
You know you’re my favourite,
so what has changed?!

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