Italy is mine

The Summer has just ended But the Weather is still warm On this Night of September You say Goodbye to your Friends You don't know it's a Farewell Alone, You're walking back Home A Smile on your Childlike Face You are just eighteen years old Never again You'll see your Mom And You will never grow old Federico Aldrovandi Your Name could fit to A Middle-Ages Knight But you are just a Boy Born in the Eighties Caught in the Night By four Murderers In Bloody Uniforms Who'd make blu

Jewish German-American psychedelic pop artist and animal rights activist Peter Max Finkelstein (Berlin, 19 October 1937 - New York City, 14 September 2026) in 2002 helped Cincinnati Freedom, the brave cow escaping from slaughterhouse, to be rescued and homed in a safe place, the Farm Sanctuary in Watkins Glen, NY. Sadly, Peter Max spent his final years in the haze of Alzheimer's disease. May he rest in peace, as his wife Mary Balkin (20 October 1966 - 9 June 2019) who spent h

Such a sad coincidence: on the same day than Dolly Parton, Tim Curry (1946-2026) is dead, too. I wish to remember him with this short interview by CBS, posted on YouTube just two weeks ago: "The life and mystique of Tim Curry", and an extended version, posted on CBS YouTube channel in October 2025. The sad news of Tim Curry's death came to me from Morrissey Central. There are no words, indeed... I hope Tim Curry will find his beloved father, who died when he was just ten, and

There are people who should never die, and life is an absolute pigsty when it deserts them, as it is the case for Dolly Parton, a complete artist and a whole human being, whose integrity, talent, humour and strong personality represent the very best part of America, i. e., the United States. I wish the POTUS (I hate to even mention his name), who was born in the same year than Dolly Parton, did more than paying a tribute to her and followed her example: she was much more than

You were the Unwanted One A difficult child who became An Unaccomplished Woman With a Distant Mother A quite Vulgar Husband And an Adopted Daughter You always leaned on Your Devoted Brother Who did his best to replace Your Late, Regretted Father He always held his Pain hidden While You became Ego-ridden Always needing a stage and a crowd You spoke and You laughed too loud An absolute Stranger to Me in Life When You died You forgot the Knife Stuck on my Back for What You did T

Red leaves announcing new roses to bloom. Photo taken by me this morning, in memory of Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Vanzetti, Italian immigrants and anarchists, who were unjustly charged with armed robbery and murder and sentenced to death after a long, biased and irregular trial. Sacco and Vanzetti spent seven years imprisoned in Charlestwon prison in Boston and, despite many worldwide popular manifestations demanding their release, they were sent on the electric chair on 23r

Sixteen Months is a long Time Longer than Eternity And the Distance is so far Huger than Infinity Like a Black Hole in my Dreams I cannot see your Shadow I cannot hear your Echo I have no Consolation To the Unique and Irreplaceable One Vera da Pozzo 17th August A. D. MMXXVI Poem above and photo below by me. (C) Vera da Pozzo (C) Italy is Mine (C) Italy is Mine and It owes Me a Living #SixteenMonths #poem #poetry #photography #memory #totheUniqueandIrrepleacebleOne #VeradaPozz

I prayed for your Mother This morning, my Friend: It's all I can do, and I hope This tiny bit of Sweetness Will find a way to reach You And caress your Sadness To YOU Vera da Pozzo Somewhere in the North of Italy 13th August A. D. MMXXVI Poem above and photos by me. (C) Vera da Pozzo (C) Italy is Mine (C) Italy is Mine and It owes Me a Living #aPrayerforyourMother #prayer #mother #poetry #photography #memory #sadness #sweetness #friend #toYOU #VeradaPozzo

There was a time, long before I was born, when Italy had artists who really knew what really meant to be a protest singer and songwriter: among these people, the first and the greatest was Francesco Guccini (Modena, 14 June 1940 - Pavana, 6 August 2026). Francesco Guccini was indeed, artistically and not just physically, a giant; all his life and throughout his long career, he believed in the power of songs to make the people reflect upon social and political questions, take

The Fever still runs through my Skin But I grab the Ladder, climb and cling To the Safety Rail, looking at your Portrait, And soon a Rain of Tears speaks for Me: "Are You well where You are? How your Neighbours are? Are your Siblings with You And your Parents too?" "Do You feel happier now? Did You meet Him again? Did You realize, now, how much He loved You and cared for You?". And, about Me: "Do You know all the Evil Things they did To Me? But I stood alone and I stood firm

How the Hell I forgot Your Gift in the cabin? Will it be found and An Earnest Person Will give it back to Me? Will You forgive Me for This Mess making me Sad? I know, I know, I know well: I should never care For Material Things But I terribly miss You And I feel Guilty and Sad For What happened On the Ferry today To the Unique and Irreplaceable One Vera da Pozzo Barcelona, 24th July 2026 (C) Vera da Pozzo (C) Italy is Mine (C) Italy is Mine and It owes Me a Living #lostandfou

It's the Nineteenth Birthday We can't celebrate And I greatly miss You Still You always stand by Me Like You did when I was Just a Rosebud in your Arms And even if I can't see You Nor hold your Hand anymore I know that You're Glad To see how I'm not Sad Today, so that I can gift You My Best and Happiest Smile Buon Compleanno to the most Beloved and the most Regretted Vera da Pozzo 20th July A. D. MMXXVI Poem above and photo below by me, taken in Asti, Piedmont, Italy. (C) Ver

Last weekend, I saw and heard plenty of sparrows in Lillestrøm and Oslo: a joy for the eyes, the ears, the heart and the soul. I remembered the old and happy times, when sparrows were numerous in our street and their joyous chirping filled our tiny garden and echoed into our modest home. Back to Paris, where, as in Palermo, the sparrows' population have dramatically decreased since 2005, I have had the joy to see them in various places where their survival is made possible by

You are always by my side In spite of the Blue Hour Of many New Moons ago A White Flower to the most Beloved and the most Regretted Vera da Pozzo Paris, 14th June 2026 Short poem and photos below by me. (C) Vera da Pozzo (C) Italy is Mine (C) Italy is Mine and It owes Me a Living #BlueHourWhiteFlower #BlueHour #WhiteFlower #ManyNewMoonsAgo #NewMoon #memory #love #eternity #poetry #photography #flowers #nature #VeradaPozzo #ItalyisMine #italyismineanditowesmealiving

During my school holidays in Paris, I am glad to have had the chance to go to the Irish Cultural Centre tonight and watch Clouded Reveries by Ciara Nic Chormaic: a stunning interview-documentary with and about the poet and essayist Doireann Ní Ghríofa, an interesting figure in the Irish literary world. I would have loved to meet her but there was just the director, a resident artist at the Irish Cultural Centre: Ciara Nic Chormaic is a lovely and friendly lady - as all the Ir

With all the things I do and I have to do, last nigth I realized that it was already the day of release of the 50th anniversary edition of Rough Trade's "intimate history" by Neil Taylor, with a foreword by Morrissey written in Sicily in 2025. I am so pleased that Morrissey has found my beloved and missed Sicily an inspiring place for writing his foreword, and I am not surprised that he does not mention Catania: he did the same in his post about the 2025 European Tour, where

Jet trails in the blue Sky Like the game we used to play When I was a little Child We played it again, few years ago And our Happiness was the same Are You still playing now, there? I wish I could lie On the Cat's Cradle Swinging from the Sky To the Unique and Irreplaceable One Vera da Pozzo 17th January 2026 Poem above and picture below by me. The cat's cradle is called in Italian "ripiglino" (from the verb "ripigliare", which means "to take again") but I remember that it w

Near a tree, I saw this short sentence: The memory of a smile stays forever. I still remember, as if it was yesterday, the reasons, the moments and the people (humans and animals) that made me smile, and I also remember very well the smiles I put on other people's faces, especially when these people are dear to me. Someone Very Special will smile again soon. Vera da Pozzo Italy 4th January, 2026 (C) Vera da Pozzo (C) Italy is Mine (C) Italy is Mine and It owes Me a Living #a

You brought the Sun last Year, but Without You the Sky is sad now, and Grey Clouds pour Tears from Heaven The Sun shines elsewhere this Year Where We both come from, but You Will never come back there nor here Still I feel Your presence and I know You want Us all to be Happy on this Christmas Eve Thus, here is my Special Gift for You: Wrapped in Shiny Smiles and Songs There is my Joy To the Unique and Irreplaceable One Vera da Pozzo Somewhere in the North of Italy 24th Decemb

You should have been with Us now Rembering and not being remembered Why did You have to go? The Unanswered Question Stays steadily in my Mind And -alas! - I still cannot find The Key of this sas Enigma But I can light a candle and pray For You and all the Beloved Ones Vera da Pozzo, Paris, 2nd November 2025 Below: pictures taken by me today in one of my favourite Parisian churches. I seldom attend the Mass: I have always preferred the churches when there is nobody. This after