Category: Poems

Ray Romine Poems

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Little Toys Should Be Seen and Not Heard

She turned the volume to the right
As far as it would go,
And went about her household tasks .
God bless the radio!

But now, her television set
Has stilled that Voice of Doom,
For she can’ t turn it up and watch
From any other room.

The neighborhood makes this decision:
It approves of television.

by Ray Romine Tuesday, July 5, 1949

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Little Scrape Of Paper

Little scrape of paper,
Little drops of fat–
And we’ll all prove to Hitler
That HIS world is FLAT!

The earth will sing, whereupon,
“I’LL BE A ROUND, WHEN HE’S GONE!”

by Ray Romine Saturday, April 15, 1944

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Lines Written Just Before Decree Is Final

God, tear from out this heart of me
Each soul-searing memory
That crushes my constructive thought
And such small peace as may be sought
Among the unshed tears.
Make my remaining years
Contain new life, new hope. Don’t blur
Perception with the thought of her.

God, if there’s justice, hear my rhyme,
And let her haunt one at a time!

by Ray Romine Tuesday, September 11, 1951

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Lines Written At Breakfast, More Or Less.

We’ve planned them a scout meet this morning;
We’ve looked up a new word or two;
We’ve started a plan for the garden;
We’ve met an old moth friend anew.
We’ve thought of a plot for a poem;
Of Cunningham’s Comet we’ve read;
We’ve started our shopping on paper,
So Christmas won’t catch us abed.

For these, there is no compensation–
They’re classed as a huge waste of time;
So far as our income’s affected,
They’ll never return us a dime:
But to us, this, our hour in the morning
Is the most worthwhile one of the day,
In spite of the fact that the world says
“For SLAVING ye shall receive pay”.

Perhaps we don’t see the thing clearly
As vainly we peer through the murk–
(Like shipmaster steering by instinct,
Whose compass has done a berserk)–
But why, WHY can’t we be paid for something
That doesn’t our very soul irk?

Our hour of production is over–
It’s time now to go back to work…

by Ray Romine Friday, November 1, 1940