Dance with me
That girl knows
What I did not have the time to phrase
That girl
Photo of the sea
That girl
From her hair, every summer
I was dying
“Dance with me” poem by Giannis Sgouroudis
Photo credits: Dimitris Tsiapas
Tag: existence
Babe.. you are so vain!
Earrings from faux leather and golden plated elements, handcrafted by Latrakia
Babe… you are so vain!
All your poses in attitude you take
Such an illusion, either intentionally or accidentally made!
In all of them, sorry I have to tell you…
It is like you are in pain!
Earrings from faux leather, golden plated elements and feathers, handcrafted by Latrakia
Babe… you are so vain!
Wearing your finery, like a peacock in a catwalk
Building a mystery, pretentiously made!
Babe… you are so vain!
I spit in your face, your highness of emptiness!
Oh! Babe why you are so vain?
Concept/Role play: Latrakia
Photo credits: Dimitris Tsiapas
Are you ready for today’s planet show?
Five oceans people, picturing ourselves in outstanding poses
Me and you, jongleurs in world’s circus scene
Utopian models of another planet, made by pixels
Our size magnified, by big lens of small devices
Adorable lives, with illustration smiles
Blurry personalities, alike behaviors
Washed feelings, matching with perfectionism’s standards
Million of lives patronized by rules
Existing through others’ eyes
Being identified, followed, liked and shared
In a deep need to be recognized
Unfolding the deep of our desires
And still remaining with a gap at heart’s side
Concept/Role Play: Latrakia
Photo credits: Dimitris Tsiapas
In which ocean depths you left your courage?
In which ocean depths you left your courage?
Like a frightened animal closed in the cage
Teeth like a shark lurks to rip you for fun
Escape from your fears
Escape from your tears
Take a deep breath
Continuously fighting for more space to survive
Boundary feelings
Screaming wild and loud with an awkward laugh
Straight to the light, there is a gate to escape
Concept/Role Play: Latrakia
Photo credits: Antigone Kourakou
Those smiles…
Hiding feelings behind those smiles…
Projecting their dark desires in meaningless questions, with no point at first glance
They pray for you to fall, putting words in your mouth, that never speaked out!
Until the very moment, a thunder of knowledge, enlightens your vision
And therefore, you can see, like you were blind before, people pale mornings, passing in front of your eyes, transparent and naked from veils and those smiles…
Concept/Role Play: Latrakia
Photo credits: Dimitris Tsiapas
Who grieves for those poetic bodies?
Our bodies, our movable property and our unnegotiable ownership on them. For centuries women bodies are subjected to society’s norms, to religions rules, to traditional communitie’s customs, to patriarchy’s demands and it’s stereotypes.
In all those perspectives is that women’s bodies endeavor to fit, trapped along with their feelings. It is noticed to their nonverbal language. There are liquids of truth in their shapes and the way they move.
You can stare bodies tired from life’s severity, with scars like awards on them and other times unbelievably poetic, overwhelmed by emotions and not rarely enigmatic, having hidden stories to share.
Society has sanctified and hollyfied those that are purposed to give birth, feed and raise children. The majority of them are pushed to formulate unhuman shapes, following strict diets and even worst making plastic surgeries, to meet the criteria of role-models projected by mass media culture. As they were dolls, they are told how to be dressed, to make up and fest by an industry that lurks to make profit by them. Bodies as canvas for more consumerism, victims of an image and a life-style.
They are screaming angrily and some others seeking for love. They have been told to tolerate the unbearable, used as sexual objects for giving pleasure. Bodies peaceful and balanced, scattering happiness, athletic and flexible making records, notty and joyful, spreading love, transparent and vulnerable.
Bodies abused literally and metaphorically, convinced to shallow the dominate ideology. I feel them like fingerprints of society’s preferences, giving endless efforts to be likable, to be lovable, charmful, workable, efficient.
Priests and saviors, image makers and marketers, patriarchy’s dominate ideology and the unprecedented behavior of women criticize with sarcasm and cruelty their selves and other women.
-Who grieves for those poetic bodies and their various abusement?
Are you an unconscious victim of those regulations? What is the latest trend? In which rules we have to adjust ourselves lately? Are you feeling obeying to those norms and the same time suffocating by them? So many hidden meanings behind human’s bodies and especially women’s. Are you raising your voice against the unfair treatment? Are you one of those pioneer women who have the loyialty to raise baby-girls and young-girls with the deep sensation that are human beings, who deserves respectiveness love and freedom, far away from barriers which limited their options and their dreams? Because behind those bodies are hidden human creatures with their agonies, their dreams, their perfections and imperfections of their mortality.
– Who grieves for those poetic bodies and their beautiness?
I am responsible, you are responsible for the favor of the following generations. In owner of all the dynamic women who standed beyond and further the chariot of any ideology and gained rights of paramount importance for the rest of us in a society that is still deafing.
Had women educated themselves more crucially and widely, they would have liberated themselves from norms and stereotypes.
Concept/Role – Play: Latrakia
Photo Credits: Dimitris Tsiapas
Special thanks to Tomas and his hand contribution to this photo shoot! 🙂
Which one you wear and for what?
The thousand masks of yours
With the thousand enigmas and secrets behind it
How far I should go to solve their mysteries?
Curves and edges slightly distinguished
Who is the real you?
Roles that we play, masks that we wear
Sometimes for a while, some others for a life time
From how young do we learn to use them?
Masks covering our vulnerability and fragileness
Purposed to attract, to dominate, to conquer, to trick, to pretend, to hide what we really feel
Masks like a cloth in your size
Like a glove in your hand
Like a loop in your neck
Like a theatrical character seeking for action…
Concept / Role-play: Latrakia
Photo credits: Dimitris Tsiapas
What the beast within whispers to you…
Today is another day, worst than the others
Today I am angry
I want to scream
My voice to be heard by you, you, you, you, you, you, you and YOU!
At the other half of the planet
Today all around me useless and without hope
All my dreams ashes
Today I do not know where to put stay, my soul to rest
All black and pessimistic
A melancholia from the abyss of my mind
A hole in my heart
Today I am crying dry tears
For a pain that I can not articulate
An awful pain that does not let me breath
Today some old scars of mine reminds me hurting stories
My all, a broken chord. No rhythm, no melody
The beast inside me is eating my flesh and drinking my blood once again
………………………………………………………………………………..
………………………………………………………………………………..
-How can I placate you my dear? tell me…
– How can I calm you down? Whisper to me the way…
-You are a part of me. Do not forget!
-Let it down, the two of us do not have a battle
-Stop conquering me with your severity
-Should I feed you sympathy and love?
-Should I discipline you by force?
This is the very question
-What are your desires? Trust me your wishes
-You do not fool me. You are the wild me
-Sh…sh..sh..sh…sh… my darling, quiet….
-I will lull you to fall asleep….
Concept / Role-play: Latrakia
Photo credits: Dimitris Tsiapas
Priceless hands!
They give hugs, they touch with tenderness or coarseness, they drive dexterously away the sorrow, they give generously and sweepingly happiness. Occasionally could cause pain, perpetually communicate with their own language.
Vital touches by hands, to my hands, to my body. Unbearable life without hands touching me, embracing me, show me their love! All the special hands of my beloved people. They taught me to share feelings in silence out of the need to talk.
Different types of hands, distinctive kinds of touch. Hands skinny and slender or on the contrary fat and more velvet. Other times rough like stone or fragile and delicate like glass. Skillful hands, sometimes exquisite, others clumsy and graceless, always lovable.
Treasured, small hands from perfect, tiny people…
All my life priceless hands, unforgettable, constantly expressing their idiosyncratic uniqueness!
Those shoes… are not mine!
They force me to fit in their size…
But those shoes… are not mine!
They want to make me believe that they are fine!
But I keep insisting, they are not mine!
If I wear them I will be on their side…
A world of promises will sunrise!
To their society’s club first and high!
An excellent android of their type, willing to applaud and cheer for fun!
Those desires are not meant to be mine
Why they try to nail them in my mind?
They press me to wear them no matter what
And if I do so, I will be cosy and styled…
They mouth to wear them so as to be alike
But I keep insisting, those shoes are not mine!
In a world upside down…
I will keep seeing things from my fucking side!
Latrakia 