Category: Self-Analysis

Posted on by

Hamlet & I

The awful drain
Of living’s strain
Is often far too much for me;
I wonder if,
When I ‘m a stiff,
I can relax in luxury?

Or will I fret
In Heaven yet,
While burnishing my spotless soul?
–More like, I’ll fry
The while I cry
In Hell. (I -hate to shovel coal!)

by Ray Romine Friday, August 30, 1946

Posted on by

Half-breed

Man suffers along in the twilight,
Remorse’s favorite slave,
His head held high, and pretending,
One step from release and the grave.

For God cursed him with a conscience,
And all such a burden implies.
Halfway between beast and the angels,
His feet drag the mud as he flies.

by Ray Romine Friday, March 27, 1953

Posted on by

Giving

Stop and think–you’ve reached the point
Where life seems not worth living–
That all the joy you’ll ever find
In this life lies in GIVING

by Ray Romine Tuesday, January 1, 1935

Posted on by

Foundation

When the house that I live in has fallen away
To the dust and the rubble of utter decay,
Just the few careless words that escape me today–
Will they matter?

But the homes of all those who come later will rest
Upon present designs that have weathered a test;
So my talk is a basis, and should be the best–
It could matter.

by Ray Romine Thursday, September 19, 1946

Posted on by

Feet In The Mud

I have a song
That I would sing
If it weren ‘t wrong–
I like to sing.

I sense a verse
I’d like to write,
But some would curse–
I won’t tonight.

There is a girl
Who could be kissed–
She is a pearl;
But I’d be hissed.

And so, forgive
Our humdrum lives:
He wants to live
Who Just survives.

by Ray Romine Sunday, December 9, 1945

Posted on by

Extremely Annoying

My hair recedes;
My waist juts out;
I’ll soon be a bald
Unstylish stout.

Blood pressure’s up;
Vitality
Has found a brand-new
Low in me.

My nose has shine;
My wit is dim;
My hips spread wide;
My prospects slim.

Why can’t someone
Devise a plan
Whereby we could
Just average man?

by Ray Romine Wednesday, October 11, 1950