Scardia

The very name 'Scardia', has a deep and multi-fold meaning in and of itself. As you may have surmised, it stems from the Greek word "Kardia", or heart.  Kardia was once a city in ancient Greece on the straits of Bosporous (now Turkey), which can be read about in the writings of Herodotus; it’s coinage depicting the head of a lion.

My Grandfather, who died prior to my birth, hailed from Sicily, which was ruled by Greece for five centuries. He, as well as my father and his brothers, were competent marble workers and artisans. My uncle, who holds a PhD. in Mathematics, was once featured in Time magazine for his cooking and sculpture skills. My father is an established oil painter and poet himself. I was  never taught the Italian language however and knew that side of My family only briefly. Hence I feel cut from a rich heritage in an abrupt manner, forming a metaphorical “Scar”. I also relate the word 'Dia' to free thought and ideas, worthwhile endeavors that too few partake in.

“The unexamined life is not worth living.”

These words from the writings of Socrates have resounded throughout my existence. I find a deep beauty in that idea, which is scarred in itself. To be scarred is to have Lived, and I seek never to live a placid, sterile existence.

From time immemorial, I have been penning varied literary musings. My work defines the prowling of a varied gamut of emotional and intellectual subjects that center around a misanthropic attempt to form tangible conclusions. These conclusions exist outside of the madness that this mundane world can appear to be and the many perplexities that have haunted My particular view of this senseless society.

"The Death of Despair" is a labor of love that has spanned more than a decade of production. Each piece is explicitly written for My own purposeful purging, be they inspired by lover or foe. Be they witty and playful, full of rage or sardonic in hue and tonality; these poems are certainly not for mildewed minds nor spineless Proletariats. I have chosen 79 of my most cherished jewels to purposefully mirror the year of my birth. It is a very personal compendium, which only graces the light of day as a ritualistic closing to a chapter of my existence, beginning with the resounding realization in the youth of My true nature, and My place amongst men.

The brief introduction reads Thus…

"This isn't a book of poetry, it’s a coming of age. It was not written, it was lived and bled. This is ten years of lessons learned, of hearts felt, and of thoughts and concepts encrypted through metaphor. Within you will find folly and wisdom, love and hate, pleasure and pain. You will not come to a better understanding of the person whom wrote these words, you will merely become lost within his world. He no longer exists, yet always will."

"THE DEATH OF DESPAIR"  has finally arrived...