Category: Money

Newton’s deep “Principia,”
His telescopes and angles,
Couldn’t keep the man from want,
Or out of daily tangles.

So I have this cheerful thought:
(Which fills me with misgiving)
What chance have I? A mind like his
Couldn’t make a living!

by Ray Romine Thursday, October 16, 1947

Although it tempts me, just a mite, to swear,
I make this statement strictly minus heat:
As groceries keep on rising, I declare
Food is the most expensive stuff we eat.

by Ray Romine Friday, February 1, 1952

To “You can’t take it with you”
I reply “So What?”
It presents no problem
With what I’ve got .

by Ray Romine Sunday, December 9, 1951

Philosophers will always sing
That money doesn’t mean a thing
Unless one spends it. Whereupon
One misses it. Too late–it’s gone.

by Ray Romine Thursday, May 18, 1950

I don’t believe in them, but find
I do respect the dollar kind.

by Ray Romine Friday, November 4, 1949

Art for art’s sake may be fine,
But let it rustle or clink for mine.

by Ray Romine Thursday, September 8, 1949

When I ask you the secret of your success,
(Huge car, mansion home, and fat larder)
It’s legerdemain I expect, I confess,
And not mere advice to work harder.
“Disdain paltry pleasures and shoulder the yoke!”
I know is the standard retort, but
I’m one of the millions of practical folk
Who’ll always believe there’s a short cut!

by Ray Romine Sunday, November 11, 1951

A checking account, if it is joint,
Allows a wife to make this point:
While not the master’s equal, she
Is quicker on the draw than he!

by Ray Romine Friday, April 10, 1953

There’re some who chew their pencils;
While others scratch their heads
To coax the brain to leave its torpid mire;
But while I may be funny,
Just the smell of filthy money
Is all the inspiration I require.

by Ray Romine Thursday, September 8, 1949

I hold this truth self-evident:
My dough’s no good until it’s spent.
The unfair part, and who’s to doubt it-
It’s worthless too, once I’m without it.

by Ray Romine Thursday, May 18, 1950