Category: Telephones

The telephone. I rear from slumber.
Likely just a crossed-up number ,
Or that friend of the girl next door;
Doubtless that and nothing more.
I’m SURE it couldn’t mean a thing-
Unless, of course, I let it ring.

by Ray Romine Saturday, June 24, 1950

The poles that run along the road
With wires stretched strand by strand
Carry voices for their load
Far across the land.

And now that I’ve learned this, I know
That I can ‘phone with ease,
For they are my size words that go
In such small wires as these!

by Ray Romine Wednesday, January 6, 1954

The numbers that I can recall
Are those I never ring at all.

by Ray Romine Sunday, March 11, 1951

Awful how our dear old country
Thwarts our innermost desires?
Cuts our coffee and our sugar,
Limits gasoline and tires;

Takes away our cheese and butter,
Beef and pork, and then our shoes:
We weren’t too cooperative,
Howled to Heaven, sang the blues.

How we’ve missed our sock supporters
And our pants suspenders, too–
We can let the socks go dangle,
But for pants, that wouldn’t do!

Said “Goodbye”, because it’s busy,
To one other thing town:
Since it’s gone to war, I’m gonna
Hang a star upon my ‘PHONE!

Looks as though I’ll shoot no gossip
Back and forth across the nation.
Well, I guess they’ve got me silenced:
Mum’s the word for the duration.

And I think it very fitting:
(If you’ll pardon me my laughter)
This is one war-effort wherein
To cooperate we HAUGHTER!

by Ray Romine Tuesday, July 20, 1943

A telephone line, new and straight,
Marches proudly to our gate.
Then wires lead in;
A Small bell shrills;
We’ve a telephone-and telephone bills!

The family cheers. I wanly smile.
I’ll get accustomed after while.
For, while I may be hard to please
I miss my clump of locust trees.

by Ray Romine Thursday, August 12, 1954

Hello dear–a–no–
Yes–er–I
Well, –see–uh-um-
Yes, dear. G’bye

by Ray Romine Saturday, September 27, 1952

Mild and humble little servant,
In a genteel sort of way:
That, a year ago, described it–
It’s of little use today.

Raise, but gently, the receiver,
Hear the conversation buzz?
Try again in half-an-hour–
Ten to one it’s like it was.

It’s our neighbor, Joe, now, spouting
To the world his rabid views;
Or, it may be Grandma Finlay
With her broadcast of the news.

Could be Sadie and her boy-friend,
Who live Just a block apart;
Or it’s Milton and his Draft-Board–
He’s in 1-A, bless his heart.

Yes, it could be quite important,
But it very seldom is;
Though I guess our line’s so crowded
Due to Uncle Samuel’s biz.

Friends who try in vain to get you,
Precipitate an aftermath,
For the call will come through, finally,
As you’re sitting in the bath.

Let’s suppose you need a doctor,
Your lumbago has you down–
Do not phone, for walking’s quicker,
Though Doc’s all the way uptown.

And your grocery-getting’s faster
If you walk instead of phone,
Or to date your friend the dentist,
Or engage a chaperone.
Or to buy a xylophone.
Or a wedding to postpone.
Or to hock your saxophone.
Monotonous, isn’t it?

If you’d ask the Jones’s over,
And you want ’em ere you’re dead,
If you’re gonna telephone ’em,
Start to call a month ahead.

If you find the house afire, why
Don’t get r’iled, or give a durn–
Since you KNOW the line is busy
Just keep cool, and let ‘er burn.

It’s a most expensive fixture
Hanging there upon the wall;
Fully every bit as useful
Were a picture, after all.

So I figure it’s a custom
That has long upon us grown;
And I’m sure, it’s just from habit
That we PAY for telephone!

by Ray Romine Tuesday, July 20, 1943

The marks we make while ‘phoning
Show character, it’s claimed.
If this is true, then this is too:
Most minds aren’t warped, they’re maimed.

by Ray Romine Monday, September 12, 1949

Those folks who have so much to say;
Who use the line for hours each day
To gossip, exchange recipes,
Discuss the ways to put up peas,
The UN, Harry, how to dress
The baby, certainly can mess
The wire for everyone, doggonit–
Except, of course, when I am on it.

by Ray Romine Friday, November 30, 1951