Mark Thalman

Poet and Painter

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Stronger Than the Current

The Peasant Dance

Catching the Limit

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           Mark Thalman's is the author of Stronger
           Than the Current to be published by The
           Poetry Box in 2021, The Peasant Dance
           published by Cherry Grove Collections
           (2020), and Catching the Limit published
           by Fairweather Books (2009), which is part
           of their Northwest Poetry Series.  Thalman's
           poetry has been widely published for four
           and a half decades. His poems have appeared
           in CutBank, The MacGuffin, Pedestal Magazine,
           and Valparaiso Review, among others.  He is
           the editor of poetry.us.com.  Thalman received
           his MFA in Creative Writing from the University
           of Oregon, then taught English and Creative
           Writing in the public schools for 35 years and is
           now retired.  He lives in Forest Grove, Oregon.  
  

 


 
 
 
 
Stronger Than the Current
 
                               Mapleton


                                     Every year, the mayor runs a contest
                                     to see who can guess the annual rainfall.
                                     After a few good storms, the Siuslaw rises
                                     drowning Helen McCready's prize tulips.
                                     The rowboat tied to her front porch
                                     is again useful.  She has no intention of moving.
                                     Helen was born in this house, and so was her mother.
                                     Her patience is stronger than the current.
                                     From the back porch, she fishes for salmon.
 
 
 
                                     Published in Elohi Gadugi


 

How to contact Mark: mark@markthalman.com

If you would like an autographed copy of Stronger Than the Current please send me your mailing address.  I will send you my mailing address, so you can send me a check for $12.  The good news is I will pay for the postage on the book.



 
 
 
                              The Peasant Dance
                               
                                                                             A Brueghel Painting
                                                                       
                                    You can not see me.
                                    I am standing behind the man
                                    who is painting a festival
                                    of villagers
                                    that have rigor mortis
                                    from lifting their feet
                                    in the same position
                                    and may stay rigid
                                    for hundreds of years.

                                    Still wondering
                                    when they might
                                    stop dancing, the villagers
                                    look apprehensive
                                    as a first kiss
                                    the stable boy
                                    is trying to give
                                    his sweetheart.
                                                                                                  
                                    Everyone is tired
                                    of the repetitious
                                    farmer playing
                                    a drunken bagpipe tune,
                                    but are polite
                                    and do not show
                                    their disgust.
                                                                     
                                    Two drinkers quarrel
                                    finding out they have
                                    slept with each other’s wife.
                                    The first stretches both arms out
                                    asking forgiveness.  The second
                                    raises one hand
                                    blessing him.  For their sin,
                                    the wives have shrunken
                                    to the size of dwarfs.
                                    The women are smaller
                                    than the table.  In an hour,
                                    they will completely disappear.
                                                                       
                                                                        
                                                                      
                                    Published in CutBank.


 
How to contact Mark: mark@markthalman.com

If you would like an autographed copy of The Peasant Dance please send me your mailing address.  I will send you my mailing address, so you can send me a check for $19.  The good news is I will pay for the postage on the book.

The Peaseant Dance can be ordered at the following places
or contact your local bookstore.

Amazon.com
       
Barnes & Noble
            
Books-A-Million

 
 
 
 
 
                              Catching the Limit
                                     
                                        
                                       
                                    I troll along the south shore,
                                    where other fisherman say
                                    the angling is no good: too shallow,
                                    too many weeds.  With their fish finders,
                                    they cluster off Princess Creek,
                                    but I don't see them catching anything.

                                    The lake lies flat mirroring sky.
                                    An osprey rides the currents,
                                    until he spies a trout,
                                    folds his wings and drops
                                    like a swift mountain stream
                                    falling over the edge of a cliff,
                                    plunging talons first
                                    into his own reflection . . .

                                    Emerging in a fury of spray,
                                    wings widespread, using them as oars,
                                    the bird strokes against the surface,
                                    flapping steadily to reach the air again,
                                    nosing his wriggling prey into the wind.

                                    I point the bow at the spot
                                    where the osprey caught the rainbow.
                                    More times than not, that is the place
                                    my pole starts to bend. 



                                   "Catching the Limit" first appeared in Calusa Review, 
                                   republished in From Here We Speak:
Oregon  Anthology
                                   and Your Daily Poem. com.                      



 

Sale price $10, normally $15.

How to contact Mark: mark@markthalman.com

If you would like an autographed copy of Catching the Limit please send me your mailing address.  I will send you my mailing address, so you can send me a check for $10.  The good news is I will pay for the postage on the book.  Catching the Limit is a full length book of  78 pages.


 
 

       Future Readings:                                     

          With Covid - 19, poetry readings are on hold.  
          Hopefully, there will be readings at local bookstores in 2021.
         

 
                                                    Mark Thalman reading at the Lan Su Chinese Garden, Steeped in Words Poetry Series, Portland, Oregon.
                                                                                                                                                                          Photo by Katheryn Babcock.