Work Type: Ray Romine Poems

Posted on by

The Dream

Last night I dreamed we parted, you and I.
It was so very real: yes, even to
The choked-unfeeling when I’d think of you,
And to the tears inside that left quite dry
These haunted eyes. And oh, how hard I’d try
To cover every sign friends might construe
As even slender hint that I was blue–
No smallest look , nor any slightest sigh.

A lifetime’s Hell I lived last night, throughout
This phantasy that brought me wide awake
And shaking, giving thanks we’re still a team,
And praying we can carry on without
A closer living knowledge of that ache!
(God grant I learned a lesson from my dream.)

(based on a real dream…)

by Ray Romine Sunday, February 20, 1944

Posted on by

The Doctor And I

“Exercise is good for you,”
Or so the Doctor,used to say;
But if he’d look me over good,
I bet he’d change his tune today.

“Walk outdoors a lot, my son”;
So then I went to toting mail;
And if the cure I need is walking,
This should dood it, without fail.

“Walking helps your posture, lad–
‘Twill straighten those round shoulders.”
(But Doc our mail sacks never saw–
They aren’t figure-moulders.)

“Walking does things to you, boy”–
Right you are, dear Doc, this time.
The KIND of things it does, I fear,
I couldn’t fit in any rhyme!

“Of course, you mustn’t OVERDO!”
Oh, he meant IN MODERATION!!
And here am I with this job stuck–
Applesauce and botheration!

“Oh, no–don’t OVER-EXERCISE.”
O.K., that suits ME–I’M no balker;
But sell that idea, if you can,
To the *P.M.G., one Frank C. Walker!

*Post Master General

by Ray Romine Saturday, June 19, 1943

Posted on by

The Doctor

He spends eight years or so in college
Piling up a lot of knowledge
Concerning virus, bug, and germ
That make the human body squirm,
And learning symptoms of diseases
(Like pimples, chills, headaches and sneezes).
Yet he, to earn a juicy fee,
Demands to know what’s wrong with me!

by Ray Romine Monday, May 26, 1952

Posted on by

The Devil Whispers To Mr. Romine:

Invent an excuse to get out of the house;
Take heed or be sorry, old man,
For Flo is intent on a “fix-over” bent–
Best flee while you’re able and can.

Run or fly or swim, my dear fellow:
She’s doing the dining-room over in yellow!

She’s ogling the living room suite with that look–
With that slip-cover gleam in her eye;
It’s the gander that nets her the things that it gets her:
The prudent-type husband would fly!

You’d best flee the country–don’t come back at all:
For Flo is transforming the back bed-room hall.
“Just think what we’ll save if we do it ourselves”–
(Excluding, of course, your religion,
And the swear and the tear on your nails and your hair)–
It’s desert, or wake up a dead pigeon!!

I’ve warned you and warnea you, so, fellow, take heed .
A devil in need is a devil indeed!

You may not be skilful with needle ana thread,
With paint-brush, or hammer, or glue;
But you’ll swiftly discern that you always can learn,
And the deadline is imminent, too!

So scram for the border–which one doesn’t matter:
Just clear out, m’laddie, and having cleared, scatter.

Depend not on alibis–the same for your patter,
For Flo knows the former and sees through the latter.

No, it’s only in lamming that safety doth loom:
And that quickly, or find yourself LOCKED IN YOUR ROOM!

by Ray Romine Friday, September 24, 1943

Posted on by

The Devil

Of the things on earth to gripe us
There are plenty, scads and lots.
Life is just the devil’s playground
Where he plans and schemes and plots.

Yes! He spends hi time a-planning
THings to make us rant and swear–
Little things that scad u plenty,
Make us fume and tear our hair.

Yet we’ve just one consolation
When these little things go wrong,
Just one salace for we humans
When we’ve stood for things too long:
Since the devil’s working on you
And you know he b’longs below,
You can alwasy have this privilege–
You can tel HIM where to go!

by Ray Romine Monday, March 13, 1933

Posted on by

The Condemned Ate A Hearty Breakfast

Most of the tasks that our homes have us do
Seem to me fairly consistent;
Cutting the grass, though, is one that, I vow
Could be, for me, non-existent.

Mowing the lawn in itself’s none so bad
(Can’t say I really ENJOY it)
But, feed we the grass so the darn stuff’ll GROW:
Then, on the morrow, DESTROY IT!

Plant it, and feed it, and then whack it off:
Trouble that really is sowin’–
Give me a lawn paved with ROCKS, so I can
Love it and leave it ALOWAN!

by Ray Romine Sunday, May 30, 1943

Posted on by

The Clown

His lips, his ears, his shoes, his eyes,
Are all too big, at least one size;
His nose is red and round and large;
His suit would stretch around a barge;
And yet his hat, if you could call
It that, is several sizes small.
Most ways, he’s big, this fellow who
Can make me laugh enough for two!

by Ray Romine Monday, September 8, 1952