Down with Bowne (The Uncut Version)

A sonnet to my then girlfriend, Mary Jane, in 1994. Married in 1995. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

A sonnet to my then girlfriend, Mary Jane, in 1994. We were married in 1995. Cheers! --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

A short poem for my wife, Mary Jane, during this busy time of her life. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

Happy Every Day, Madeline, Five, Twenty-Five, or Eighty-Five --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

A sonnet for Mary Jane on the rock where I proposed --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

A poem for my daughter Nancy. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

IN MEMORY OF MY GRANDFATHER, RICHARD GOLDHAHN --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

Walking in Windermere without Wordsworth with three lasses. Cover photo by the author. Lake Windermere, UK. 1990. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

Changes need to happen in order not to become post-literate. Are we creating life-long readers? Or life-long haters of reading? --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

PLAYING THE FIVE CARDS: Communion with the Past is Tongued with Fire from the Present Cover Art: The Northern Chesapeake Bay. (link) --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

With enough to remember, I revisit some old memories. Butterscotch image by Joe Dyer from Buckhurst Hill, England. CommonsWikipedia Link --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

Rock and roll, after all, has its roots in gospel and the blues. Cover Art: The Rolling Stones in Oslo, Norway. (Link). “Let's Spend the Night Together” translates in Norwegian as “La oss tilbringe natten sammen.” --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

Intervening in the conflict between predator and the innocent --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

A Sensual Education: The Father Who Falsely Thought He Had It All Figured Out. Music by Music by Daddy_s_Music from Pixabay. And cover art: Diana by Augustus Saint-Gaudens at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Wikipedia Commons. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

The varied blooms resemble water lilies — floating on liquid air. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

I promised God I wouldn't do any more stupid things if He helped me. Photo by Lanis Rossi. Music by Julius H. from Pixabay Wegenlied - Brahms' Lullaby - Classical Flute Selections --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

And other lessons for keeping your garden and lawn fresh and organic --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

Another Day in Room 605. This was the prompt from my Editor In Chief, Alanna Stein. Music by Daddy_s_Music. Pixabay. Music by

Captive Voice is Not Free. Foolishly filling the hole with three lies. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

Drilling in America: The lesson for class changed once the announcement was made. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walter-t-bowne/support

Tale the First: A serialised, satirical novel of Americans on a European tour. This is the opening for satirical novel, Overland to the World, a collection of interrelated tales about Americans on a European coach holiday, which has been published in serialised form on Medium. As a pretentious and affected Anglophile, I purposely used the “s” instead of the “z.” --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

Dump the boring classics with these engaging modern novels. Reading is Knowledge. Photo link: Young adult literature. Link Dear Directors of Language Arts: I'm writing to inform you of the exciting titles on tap at Boontown Books for 2022! Are your teachers and students tired of the same old language arts curriculum? The Outsiders? To Kill a Mockingbird? Diary of Anne Frank? Big yawn, right? Today's children just don't like to read. And is it any wonder? Traditional middle school reading selections, while classics, may just be the issue. These new titles will encourage reading and stimulate critical thinking skills — as well as entertain today's multi-tasking, pre-literate youth who were reared in front of screens and pixels.... --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

"An hour passed. I remained inside the red Kia Sorento on the sandy drive of The Aunt's ‘double wide deluxe' trailer house. In that hour, I reconstructed the collapse of my universe, including our arrival in the States at Philadelphia International. Why no Littleman kin there to greet us? Did they lack propriety? A storm had been brewing, but no rain — only winds and ominous, threatening skies direct from King Lear — my mum's favorite play. On the drive, we passed The Town Tavern — the parking lot jammed with motorbikes. There were no “pubs” in America, The Father told me. On the red doors of the bar, a sign read: No Colors. Was that racist? Not only offensive but archaic?" --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

Photo by the author. First published in Age of Awareness: https://medium.com/age-of-awareness/the-tower-in-pisa-finally-tumbles-a95a7830ab42?sk=dc521e58aa98ed180ce4c813f34358e1 Parting May Not Be Such Sweet Sorrow We had separated in Pisa, Italy because we were driving each other crazy. Laura had taken the train to London to stay with a “friend.” This was August of 1990. I was twenty-one. Three weeks traveling with me through Europe was more than enough. The story of Europe and the further troubles in England is a miniseries mock-u-melodrama for another time when my tears and shame will become a much longer comedy than this anecdote of humor and humility. In Pisa, I recall turning my back, and suddenly Laura, with her blonde hair and slender figure, with the hair in that high, one-can-of-hairspray-a-day-routine, as was the fashion in New Jersey then when a lighted match or a flick of a Bic was a real thing to fear, was surrounded by four Italian guys in the leather market. Of course, there was a fountain in the middle of the piazza. Was it deep enough to drown my sorrow? The stereotype of Italian men is true. Let no one say otherwise. One of those Italian lads had more sex appeal in his pinky cuticle than I did in my whole body. I was slightly overweight then, despite the 20K steps we took each day. I was jealous. Why weren't they coming on to me? I'm not gay, mind you, but those guys were gorgeous. And would they buy me a leather jacket? They also didn't look like they had been backpacking for three weeks either. Laura wanted to shop. I wanted history. And to trangugiare more Italian food (gobble) and request pastries in a series of ridiculous hand gestures. Anyway, she had enough of me, and I agreed that I had enough of me, too. I was such a drama king. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

"I was the first to arrive at Newcastle-upon-Tyne. My ramblings were over. From London, BritRail rushed me north with my battered hunter-green backpack with as many books as clothes and dirty underwear. That color had faded in the Mediterranean sun. Had I faded, too, from weeks of traveling? Was I ready to study? I settled into Lovaine Flats (Flat 10. Room 3). My fine custodian, both caretaker and mother, was Lorraine. I made her my specialty: Chicken Hawaiian over rice. A few things were hard to find in Northern England. Like pineapple. The plates and silverware came from an expensive store in Eldon Square, like Macy's. What did I know? Thirty years later, I still have them." --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

This map hangs proudly in our “map room” of our family room. The different colored pins chart the places we have been as a family and as single explorers --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

A satirical novel about a London lad in serialised form. With the spare change in my trousers, I made a copy of Emily's letter. One day I hope to publish “The Collected Correspondence of Thaddeus Littleman.” Would such an audience exist for innocent and pretentious musings? Who would ever purchase such poppycock? The Waterford Library was a bright oasis — inside — with new, earth-toned rugs, fresh paint, almost mauve, with comfy, cushioned chairs for reading by the windows — with four orange chairs around a circular table, laminated and clean. I'm writing now in the Study Room. For writing, sometimes I love sound — like the bustle of a London coffee house — and other times, like now, I want to be sealed away from the world and pain. It's sound proof, in here. I hear my thoughts reverberate on the narrow walls, like a being living confined to a coffin. Or a monk in a dorm, copying the Word for readers that will one day exist, long after death; a light in the darkness; a quill in hand, hands stained in ink, creating in long hand on dried, stretched lamb's skin what will eventually be called Times New Roman. The candle burning — the light, ambient enough, the wax collecting like a queer stalagmite on the writing table. A medieval link to the modern world. Art in Darkness. Oxygen in a sea of brainless sea anemones — minus the colors vibrant. The outside of the Waterford Library was a different story — it was, perhaps, the only place alive in a strip mall dead or near-death stores — including a market that had once been called “Murphy's.” It would have been brilliant to have a market for fresh produce so close! --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

“Stop Breakin' Down” from Robert Johnson never runs out of gas. First published on The Riff: https://medium.com/the-riff/this-stuff-may-bust-your-brains-out-96afada20c5c?sk=3468d213ee77299137791cce2f262092 I first knew this song from The White Stripes. 1999. I mean, I'm a huge Blues fan. An Alt-Rock Dude. Classic Rock Dude. Of course, I knew the music of Robert Johnson — but I didn't know he recorded the Original. Stupid, me. I just ordered the Complete Collection of Robert Johnson on Amazon. When it comes to music, I don't like being stupid. But I still buy CDs. What gives, man? I started researching “Stop Breaking Down.” Many great covers. You will love this, man — or woman. I promise. Hang on to your Les Paul Gibson L1. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

Using rain water helps Nature in so many ways, and it's easy. First published in The Environment. https://medium.com/the-environment/rain-barrels-help-with-more-than-the-water-bill-3f7895901ccb?sk=526c54653c03d1fc50646a0cf3de872d --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

It would also make the cut for great anti-Vietnam War songs. Pigs savor the spoils of war in the killing troughs of France during World War I. (link) (link). Image by the author. Pixlr.com. First published on The Riff. https://medium.com/the-riff/add-black-sabbaths-war-pigs-to-your-heavy-metal-playlist-2f8dd8f5659b?sk=40b63d4ec97714ce550a7ee2c4c13441 --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

JUDGING THE JUDGERS: ‘We don't need your judgement or your jealousy', Wally says. There are ‘lunks' here at the gym, but we have to conceal our ‘shameful' identity And because we have to stay secretive, we don't feel in a ‘safe place' — even with the silent eye stares from grannies and grandpas who are trying to stay in shape — and alive. And I say, ‘God bless us — every one — even ‘the lunks,' and even ‘Tiny Tim!' --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

Literary magazines beg authors to return to writing for free. Beloved Writer, We noticed you have not submitted any poems or short fiction on Submittable to us with the required $25 reading fee. We really miss those fees. Well, as the reader, I really miss those fees. Can you blame me? Can you picture such an erudite and ambitious guy like me working at Dollar General? Heck, I'm publishing one of the best literary magazines in the Dakota Territories — and I can't do that for free. I know. I know. It took us — me — and my tatted biker BF, like — what? A year to get back to you regarding those delightfully mediocre poems you sent us? Yes — but we — I mean, I promise not to take so long to reject your work. I may even have the time to offer a line of criticism, for you to consider. And when I do publish you in The Prairie Dog Digest — circulation 500 and growing— I promise to send you a copy that you can print and give to your boyfriend and mom, depending on where you get the chapbook published. Best, DeAnna deGruntë Editor PS: You haven't been writing for Medium, have you? --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

GEOFFREY CHAUCER, REFURBISHED: A parody of the General Prologue from “The Canterbury Tales.” Trafalgar Square on a Summer Evening. London. (link). First published on MuddyUm. https://medium.com/muddyum/yanks-on-holiday-fc8c64b684f1?sk=14e829da992877e8e1c7ffe05f3f8aa2 Here bygynneth the book ō̆ver behōste tō the world Here begins the book Overland to the World When in June and the spring showers end — And disperse the rains to the heavens, and send The pigeons to peck the crumbs at Trafalgar — And prompt the public to thumb the vernacular; When Admiral Nelson, with his commanding physique — Choking from exhaust fumes and pathogens discreet — Gazes upon his Square, teeming with tourists, His glories known only to the purest; When Londoners are all cell-a-Tweetin' — Who text away with fingers a' bleedin', (So Nature's a stage where Shadows do play) — Then the Yankees partake a holiday. A fortnight feast of the ripe, old Country — Tales uncoiling with bathos, and ribaldry; From England ‘cross the Continent to Rome — To snap a pic of Saint Pete's to text home; Through a coach window they'll take The Grand Tour, To tick off the sites, gleaned from a brochure. This is the opening prologue for my parody-mock-satirical novel, Overland to the World, a collection of interrelated tales about Americans on a European coach holiday, which has been published in serialised form on Medium. As a pretentious and affected Anglophile, I purposely used the “s” instead of the “z.” --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

Gunnen: Dutch: Finding happiness in someone's happiness because you love them so much. First published on Paper Poetry. "To awake before the dawn seems foolish — But it's the early nurseryman who wins While the shadows on the vines seem ghoulish; The vines this morning seem like twisted strings — And the red berries hide in the moonlight, Shielded beneath the enclosures of green; But bashful, not, is the color scarlet; I seek my breakfast before your dawn's flight Like prowlers upon the scene, routine, Like a game, we aim for the same target." "O, for that flavor tart we both adore — The night cools the raspberries with blessings; At least within my shelter I can store — But that nectar serves as your dressings — As I would address a bowl of salad. But I've grown tired of this morning game — The seeds don't settle well in my belly! The sun conducts a vivace ballad — A thrilling trill of vines we each can claim; Can I, at least, harvest some for jelly?" Unlike the finches, I am not afraid Of you as you sit on the patio You made to mind; you harbored in the shade; For this feast, you know, you're fine, Daddy-O! Don't you relish how I hang upside down? And I'm in heaven, already, today! No technology makes me a machine! And need I gas to fly around town? Do I owe any dude a debt to pay? “I'm a catbird. But please call me Eugene!” You know, these slender barbed stalks don't sting me Like they nettle you. Is that why you ceased? I know you have a wife, man, where is she? During my feast, I delight you, at least. For why would you ponder there all alone With never any artificial sound To cover my musings to you, my friend? We each, right, seem to know something unknown? Something profound planted here in the ground? Dangling on the vine where we both depend? How you warble, Gene, for moving water! O! how you squawk for the bird bath refilled! O! how like that of, then, my young daughter! Both! O! how they thrilled! How they chilled, spilled! You love the natural water from the drum, Sans chlorine from the plastic garden hose. Yes, and then you frolic and roll and shake — My daughters would water dance until numb! Glowing blue with rapturous joy to their toes! The cold lake would snap anything awake. You're awake, of course, now while I'm asleep. I have trouble drowsing due to unease. At times, at night, I wander in too deep. My bed takes on water from inner seas; But then I think of you — your happiness — And I recall jumping from the Crow's Nest — Leaping from Dad's boat on the Chesapeake — That boy again in all his flashiness! And the decades seem they have never left. With such faith, I could fly to any peak! --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

In despair and lonely, and devoid of culture, Thaddeus Littleman, 12, writes a missive to his lady love, Emily, back in London. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

As soon as Thaddeus Littleman arrives in Atco, New Jersey with his American father from London, after the death of his British mum, Thaddeus experiences life in America the way he always feared: getting shot at by The Cousin with a paintball gun. This is a satirical, serialized novel. Enjoy. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

How I re-enacted George Orwell's fable with my daughters. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

Finding that door to get out of the labyrinth. Cover art: Plasticine Labyrinth. By Peter Shanks. (link) --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

Twelve rolls directs the growth of the daisy poem. Walter Bowne wrote this on dice throws for the meter on the Dutch theme of gunnen. Dice rolls: 2–3–6/ 5–3–3/ 3–1–6/ 5–3–6 --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

Gunnen: Dutch: Finding happiness in someone's happiness because you love them so much --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame.... this is NOT the sonnet they'll teach in school. But so well worth it. Photo credit: Peasant Lovers by Ferdinand Georg Waldmüller (1793–1865. (Link) --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

A short review on one amazing story of young love. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

Isolated in three distinct sections, three characters run in the opposite direction of happiness. "At the end of the short story from Dubliners, the last story James Joyce devotes to adolescence, the slim girl of nineteen, Polly Mooney, hears her mother, the Madam, call from downstairs..." --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

Composed in the youth of my irrational exuberance at 22 in 1992. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

A writing lesson turned into a lesson about dying and living --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

My first concert: A crazy time with Dad does not take away crazy times with Mom. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

Dan Norbury and Walter Bowne, beer dudes and book dudes, begin their series called Flights of Fancy. In Part I, Dan and Walter drink a fine stout, Gravity Road from Forgotten Boardwalk in Cherry Hill , NJ. They also discuss Robert Bly's influential book on the tale from the Grimm Brothers: "Iron Hans" and male initiations. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

Applying Rhetoric to Your Writing. Hey there. Walter Bowne here. So. ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray,' and the ‘Preface' to Dorian Gray. Fantastic piece, right? Oscar Wilde added the Preface after he received so much heat and hate for the late Gothic and philosophical novella. A deep dive into the work: Enough context, right? I'll use rhetorical terms for you to know and understand and also use in your own writing. Application is everything. Photo by the author of Wilde's grave in Paris. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/support

IN MUSIC, WE RETURN TO THE SOURCE OF OUR LOVE. South Jersey was full of losers, but I was the one, pulling out to win. Published in The Riff: https://medium.com/the-riff/on-thunder-road-with-mary-jane-3897a7d25827?sk=6e81623b114f1ef0869f2f89f2c09b03 --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message

Two poems make me ponder gratitude and acknowledgment. Original essay link here: https://medium.com/the-masterpiece/these-winter-days-as-a-snow-man-98407a333c41?sk=1334bf8e0260e6da4bee154ee86cc4a8. Photo by Lanis Rossi (Lancaster County, PA). Photo used with permission. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message

I was transformed from what I witnessed from my window. Original story published on The Environment: https://medium.com/the-environment/adjusting-our-inward-and-outward-senses-to-the-rhythms-of-nature-bdb393960a75?sk=4bdae89f3f3f243202ca11172ca5529c --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/walter-t-bowne/message