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Forceful, That It Is

I’m never quite sure whether spring
Is a season about which to sing
In terms of starry dew-eyed rapture
Poets are alleged to capture,
Or whether, brushing veils aside,
I ought to pan its dismal side:
Its rain, its head-colds, and its wind;
Its recklessness undisciplined.
But whether you like spring or deplore it,
You cannot honestly ignore it!

by Ray Romine Saturday, September 15, 1951

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Force of Character

Remember General Patton, who
Slapped an invalid, and grew;
Sing a song of S. Legree,
Remembered for his cruelty;
Remember little Napoleon–
He looked out for Number One;
Sing of Ivan the Terrible Man
Who terrorized the Russian clan.
Hitler, too, will be remembered
For the world that he dismembered.
Hollywood ‘s a living lie–
There, hero-worship, gone awry
Produces murder, rape and mayhem:
Do we censure?–No, we payhem.

And small folk who made Good a must
Hear History trample on their dust.

by Ray Romine Thursday, January 11, 1945

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For Out Of This World:

To a visitor from Outer Space
Your earth’s a fascinating placeJ
I, Raydar, have been sent here to
Take back a full report on you.
You younger folk, especially,
Are clear out of this world to me!
YOUTH and I would like to share
My gathered notes with you out there.
We hope you like them; and, to close,
If I should sometimes step on toes,
To take a leaf from your own book,
I call them just the way they lookJ

You’ve heard of flying saucers–
Imagination, or the truth??
Out of This World, for certain–
Raydar tells all: watch in YOUTH!

by Ray Romine Saturday, January 9, 1954

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For Carole Helen

Tell us, Carole Helen, as your life begins,
How does it feel, being one-half of twins?

But I suppose that it doesn’t much matter to you
If you’re one entire White child or one-half of two!

But why all this smirking? Pray tell what’s so cute–
Is it I, or your bottle, or that birthday suit?

Don’t kid me, you’re proud, as you gulp milk with suction,
For you helped turn a routine into Some Production!

by Ray Romine Monday, May 12, 1952

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Footprints, Not On The Sands Of Time

The scientists in every clime
Exhaust much energy and time–
They also pour my cash in it–
This search that waxes passionate
For facts. They leave no stone unturned
While knowledge shall remain unlearned.
Six days each week, all day, all night,
They labor to bring truth to light.
They catalog each bug and bird;
They know how paint had best be stirred;
They’ve charted my insides but slick;
They know what makes an atom tick;
They know a rocket to the moon
Is possible, and just how soon.
They’re great on causes and effects–
They know what weather happens next;
They know what makes remote stars burn;
They know when comets will return;
TheyI understand light rays and heat;
And, if we’d live, what we should eat;
What makes a bridge stand stress and strain;
How park a car; how make it rain;
It’s hard to ask a question that
They haven’t answered snug and pat,
But this one has their knowledge beat:
How make a small boy wipe his feet?

by Ray Romine Friday, January 23, 1953

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Footebrawl

A blonde beside me at the game
Was friendly, so I kissed her .
“You’re out-of-bounds,” she snapped, and slapped.
O- o-o what a wallop, sister!
I said, “I beg of you, do not
Confuse me with the masses;
My dear, this is the season for
All kinds of forward passes!”

by Ray Romine Tuesday, August 7, 1951

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Foolosopher

As taxes and prices soar higher,
Hear a word from the small ragged buyer:
“What goes up, they say,
Never goes up to stay–
When expenses descend, they’ll be nigher.”

by Ray Romine Friday, June 29, 1951