I think this is one of the loveliest anniversary poems you've written because it accomplishes something difficult: it speaks honestly about a danger without making the relationship itself feel endangered. The poem's confidence lies precisely in its willingness to name what must be watched.
The title, "The Tug," is wonderfully understated. At first we assume it's about the pull between two people, but by the end we realize it's also the inward tug from intellect toward feeling, from control toward receptivity, from strength toward tenderness.
The opening immediately introduces paradox:
"Our strength could be our undoing / if we're not careful, my love."
That's not a common anniversary sentiment, but it feels a propos. "Strength" isn't being criticized; it's simply recognized as something that can become excessive. That lands squarely in Hexagram 28. The problem isn't weakness. It's a structure carrying more weight than its supports were meant to bear.
Then comes the turn: "The doves outside are cooing."
Birds again—but notice how different they are from the blackbirds of the previous two poems.
The blackbirds were vigilant. These doves are receptive. They don't defend territory; they embody affection. The world has changed species because the poem's emotional task has changed.
I especially like this couplet: "... and we know how to take off the glove / of strong thought..."
That's a striking image. A glove protects. It also prevents direct touch. Calling thought a glove suggests that intellect is not the enemy; it's simply something one sometimes removes in order to feel the world more directly. The image is fresh enough that it doesn't collapse into the familiar head-versus-heart dichotomy. You aren't rejecting thought. You're taking off one glove.
Then comes what I think is the poem's deepest movement: "...and let ourselves feel it — / the tug — and then reel it."
This is beautifully ambiguous. What exactly is "it"? The love? The moment? The emotional pull? The anniversary itself? The answer is yes.
Then the isolated phrase — the tug — works almost like a heartbeat. The em dashes make you pause long enough to experience the thing before naming what happens next.
Rufus, I read your comments on this wonderful poem before I wrote mine and I borrowed a little from them because they seem so accurate to me. I hope you don't mind
I’m honored that you found me worthy to steal from, Martin. I officially grant you carte blanche — with the caveat that I reserve the right to sneak into your plethora of wise and insightful comments like a thief in the night and return you the same honor (among thieves) at some point.
I was drawn to this little six-line poem because I have always loved love poetry. I think it is something that’s sadly neglected in this high-tech, intellect-driven era in which people seem to be in danger of losing their humanity. And interestingly, Jonathan seems to be aware of this also, and begins his love poem with a warning both to himself and his beloved that their “strength” could be their undoing if they are not mindful about the manner in which they relate to each other going forward in what appears to be a very strong and communicative relationship.
“Strength” isn’t being criticized here, it is simply being recognized as something that can become excessive, even though it is essential in order to survive in this world as it is, and in relationships with others in it. It means that like crows, doves, or other creatures … we adapt realistically to our environment. But our environment isn’t always harsh and there is a right time “to take off the glove of strong thought” and feel the tug (or dove) of our own humanity.
So “The Tug,” is about the pull between of attraction two people. But it is also about the inward tug from intellect toward feeling, from control toward receptivity, from strength toward tenderness, and getting that balance right when needed
What a marvellous, realistic love poem this is, and one that bodes well for the future of this relationship! All that remains to be said, is: “Congratulations Jonathan & Natalie on your anniversary. May your love endure for as long as forever is!”
Stunningly beautiful Jonathan! Seeing the fishing rod on the right in the image suggested a strong tug could imply tugging one another’s hearts and souls. Happy Anniversary!
Cast I Ching.
Water ripple.
Bobber sinks
Real play
Dinner for two.
This made me chortle with delight.
My rainbow trout from Diamond Lake, Oregon.
Nice
Thanks, Fred. I love it when you come around old pal.
I think this is one of the loveliest anniversary poems you've written because it accomplishes something difficult: it speaks honestly about a danger without making the relationship itself feel endangered. The poem's confidence lies precisely in its willingness to name what must be watched.
The title, "The Tug," is wonderfully understated. At first we assume it's about the pull between two people, but by the end we realize it's also the inward tug from intellect toward feeling, from control toward receptivity, from strength toward tenderness.
The opening immediately introduces paradox:
"Our strength could be our undoing / if we're not careful, my love."
That's not a common anniversary sentiment, but it feels a propos. "Strength" isn't being criticized; it's simply recognized as something that can become excessive. That lands squarely in Hexagram 28. The problem isn't weakness. It's a structure carrying more weight than its supports were meant to bear.
Then comes the turn: "The doves outside are cooing."
Birds again—but notice how different they are from the blackbirds of the previous two poems.
The blackbirds were vigilant. These doves are receptive. They don't defend territory; they embody affection. The world has changed species because the poem's emotional task has changed.
I especially like this couplet: "... and we know how to take off the glove / of strong thought..."
That's a striking image. A glove protects. It also prevents direct touch. Calling thought a glove suggests that intellect is not the enemy; it's simply something one sometimes removes in order to feel the world more directly. The image is fresh enough that it doesn't collapse into the familiar head-versus-heart dichotomy. You aren't rejecting thought. You're taking off one glove.
Then comes what I think is the poem's deepest movement: "...and let ourselves feel it — / the tug — and then reel it."
This is beautifully ambiguous. What exactly is "it"? The love? The moment? The emotional pull? The anniversary itself? The answer is yes.
Then the isolated phrase — the tug — works almost like a heartbeat. The em dashes make you pause long enough to experience the thing before naming what happens next.
Many happy returns, you two.
Another crescendo of a comment, Rufus. Many thanks.
Rufus, I read your comments on this wonderful poem before I wrote mine and I borrowed a little from them because they seem so accurate to me. I hope you don't mind
I’m honored that you found me worthy to steal from, Martin. I officially grant you carte blanche — with the caveat that I reserve the right to sneak into your plethora of wise and insightful comments like a thief in the night and return you the same honor (among thieves) at some point.
As at matter of honour I grant you the same privilege. Will you be writing a book soon about Jonathan's poetry?
Maybe something along the lines of The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas.
Like the play on “take off the glove” as opposed to the expected “take off the gloves.” Very nice.
Thanks Peter, I was hoping someone would note that.
💙
Thank you, Deborah
Love this! Thank you! 😊
Thank you, Laura
I was drawn to this little six-line poem because I have always loved love poetry. I think it is something that’s sadly neglected in this high-tech, intellect-driven era in which people seem to be in danger of losing their humanity. And interestingly, Jonathan seems to be aware of this also, and begins his love poem with a warning both to himself and his beloved that their “strength” could be their undoing if they are not mindful about the manner in which they relate to each other going forward in what appears to be a very strong and communicative relationship.
“Strength” isn’t being criticized here, it is simply being recognized as something that can become excessive, even though it is essential in order to survive in this world as it is, and in relationships with others in it. It means that like crows, doves, or other creatures … we adapt realistically to our environment. But our environment isn’t always harsh and there is a right time “to take off the glove of strong thought” and feel the tug (or dove) of our own humanity.
So “The Tug,” is about the pull between of attraction two people. But it is also about the inward tug from intellect toward feeling, from control toward receptivity, from strength toward tenderness, and getting that balance right when needed
What a marvellous, realistic love poem this is, and one that bodes well for the future of this relationship! All that remains to be said, is: “Congratulations Jonathan & Natalie on your anniversary. May your love endure for as long as forever is!”
Thank you, Martin. I appreciate your thoughtfulness and keen sensitivity, as always.
A beauty.
Thanks Patris
Stunningly beautiful Jonathan! Seeing the fishing rod on the right in the image suggested a strong tug could imply tugging one another’s hearts and souls. Happy Anniversary!
Thank you, Gary
Lovely
This is beautiful. I loved it.
Thank you
This is wonderful.
Thank you