Category: Poems

Ray Romine Poems

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Do I Have a Choice?

Eulogize the snowman
In poem, song and story;
Give me a leering scarecrow,
So summer’s in its glory.

As for this pristine whiteness
That covers manse and hovel,
I’ll take the dust of summer
You do not have to shovel.

Who likes his contrasts glaring
May have his black and white scene;
But paint, I ask, my landscapes
In all the shades of bright green.

by Ray Romine Tuesday, December 19, 1950

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Dividing Line

He’s Called “Middle Class”–the laborer:
How right! Despite persistence,
He’s too poor for his naborer,
And too rich for assistance.

by Ray Romine Saturday, September 2, 1950

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Distraction Reaction

Why is it that children, who’re normally quiet
Will wait til you’ve guests before starting to riot?
Say “aye”, those in favor of this reform:
Shoo the youngsters to bed while the oldsters perform.

REVISION:
There is this about children
Who’re normally quiet–
They wait til you’ve guests
Before starting to riot.

(Rev. 9-30-1949)

by Ray Romine Sunday, October 17, 1948

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Dissertation on a Disgusting Disposition–

Let me breekfest alone
By the Dawn’s early light;
It’s then that I’m vicious,
And not awake, quite.

On the cornflakes and rolls
I can take out my spite;
Let me breakfast alone
By the Dawn’s early light.

My bark in the mornings
Is worse than my bite,
But I ‘m still best avoided:
You have been warned–take flight.

Let me breakfast alone,
All alone with my plight,
All alone, quite alone,
By the Dawn’s early light.

by Ray Romine Tuesday, January 23, 1945

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Disguise

“Washington, April 13–(AP)–President Truman said today the crime
problem is nationwide and not restricted to Kansas City … He said
it extends also to places like St. Louis and even to Washington” …News Item.

Crime isn’t crime, it seems, unless
It’s labeled fore and aft;
They have it, but in Washington,
They file it under GRAFT.

by Ray Romine Sunday, April 16, 1950

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Discouraged

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

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Discord

The reason seems clear-cut to me
Why you and I cannot agree:
It’s just that your vile attitude
Won’t harmonize with my own mood…

by Ray Romine Friday, January 5, 1951

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Disappointed Artist

Rejections to right of him,
Refusals to left of him,
Declinations above ‘im
Blitzed him and thundered.
How he had tried to sell!
Boldly he’d drawn and well;
But when the Editors
Told him to go to Hell–
He knew he’d blundered.

Flashed all his pen-points bare,
Splashed ink on shirt and chair,
Ideas HE’D thought were fair–
Tackling the impossible while
All his friends wondered:
And when the stuff returned,
ALL of his drawings spurned,
How his cheeks flamed and burned,
His confidence sundered!

He got various rejection slips
Saying “NO” for unseen lips;
Some with well-meaning tips
Told him he’d blundered;
Polite and catty ones,
Sloppy and natty ones,
Some sane, some batty ones,
“NO” at him thundered.

Pink, and yet greenish ones,
Dull ones and keenish ones,
Almost obscenish ones,
Dirty and cleanish ones.
Tore him asunder;
Fattish and leanish ones,
Final and in-betweenish ones,
Polite and meanish ones
Dragged him down under.

HOWEVER:

Thanks to the editors,
He has no creditors;
Starving, his artist friends
Each toward him amazement bends.
Amazement and wonder.
His new dexterity,
Done with asperity,
Brought on prosperity,
Independence, (and plunder!)

He’s glad with each breath he takes
His art never got the breaks:
Glad because NOW he makes
More than the Editor shakes,
Growing rotunder;
He listens to the rhythmic chant
Of machines at the Ordnance Plant:
They’ re saying “How you like
Gold Mine you surely strike?
‘Sa pretty swell way to click,
Eh, WATER-BOY, SECOND TRICK?–
“Ain’t you a wonder?”

Goodbye now, children, I’m going to see
If they can’t dig up a BUCKET FOR ME!

by Ray Romine Tuesday, June 1, 1943