Italy is mine

Standing firm A Hard Day's Night But it's all right Far from the Fight Mr. Shankly Standing blankly Is so frankly Unanointed Disappointed And Disjointed For I resist And rise my Fist And still persist Vera da Pozzo Paris , 23rd September 2026 Poem above and photo below by me. Beauté en banlieue. Even in the ugliest places I can find Beauty, like this shiny Moon at 8 P. M. When I was finally back to Paris, I felt I would have found more messages to cheer me up, so I had a look

Morrissey's tour in the United States starts tonight at Riot Festival, Chicago, IL. Sing and shine and be happy, Silver Boy! Enjoy the US tour with your band, your crew and your fans. See you in the Old Europe. True to You, Vera da Pozzo Paris, 19th September 2026 Exactly two months after the wonderful concert in Cernobbio and all the beautiful memories I dearly keep in my mind. Below: drawing made by me with a black Bic pen, without preparatory sketch, as always. I took my i

Today I had a day off before another journée de pré-rentrée (I will not bother trying to translate this expression in English, because it is just nonsensical French school jargon, as we are already at work since yesterday morning) and on Thursday morning pupils and teachers will be back on the chain gang. At least, kids are not boring and, even when they are difficult, they are still human. After visiting Oscar's (and Robbie's) tomb, I started my brand new diary and enjoyed o

A nice post from Morrissey. La naissance du jour, an unusual novel written by Colette in 1927, partially based on her mother's letters, and published in 1928. The original French title reminds me of the epilogue of André Gide's Les nourritures terrestres (1897), one of my favourite books by one of my favourite writers: Le jour naît. Descends dans la plaine. Regarde de plus près chaque chose. Lyncéus, viens ! approche-toi. Voici le jour et nous y croyons. (André Gide, Les nour

The lonely bench Still waits for You To sit and enjoy it When the day is done And the air is fair While the sun goes down But You have...

My very first poem was for You: I wrote it for your name day And You were so glad and proud Of your little, witty daughter; Then they...

The night before, you were with me and you saved me. I didn't forget it, and I never will. Always grateful to You, Moz. "Asleep", single...