Recipe, by
Christopher J. O’Brien
My friends, I’ll teach you how to bake a cake
With sugared coating that tastes fine and sweet
And after lesson’s end, if you should meet
A co-worker or classmate, bid her take:
Three cups of sugar and a pound of flour,
Four eggs, a dab of short’ning, or some butter
(Enough to grease the baking pan), and water.
Mix these together, then bake for one hour.
And after sixty minutes, take a toothpick,
Just to verify the cake is ready—
And if it’s burnt, you might have to repeat.
The last thing: spread the frosting, but not too thick!
And then you’re done! So tell Bernice or Betty
My
recipe for cake. Bon appetit!
December
8, 2002
“The Fox and The Crow” by Aesop.
The
Fox and the Crow
A
CROW having stolen a bit of meat, perched in a tree and held it in her
beak. A Fox, seeing this, longed
to possess the meat himself, and by a wily stratagem succeeded. "How handsome is the Crow,"
he exclaimed, in the beauty of her shape and in the fairness of her complexion!
Oh, if her voice were only equal to her beauty, she would deservedly be
considered the Queen of Birds!"
This he said deceitfully; but the Crow, anxious to refute the reflection
cast upon her voice, set up a loud caw and dropped the flesh. The Fox quickly picked it up, and thus
addressed the Crow: "My good
Crow, your voice is right enough, but your wit is wanting."
Sonnet: Adaptation of “The Fox and The Crow” by
Christopher J. O’Brien
There was a crow, a lonely lady bird
Who, flying by the dairy, caught the scent
Of freshly-pressed cheese, and down she went
To smell it, picked it up, without a word
Of thanks, she flew off to her treehouse shady
To savor her new goodie for a while.
And on her face, of course, she had a smile—
Until a voice beneath her sighed, “Dear Lady!”
She, looking down, beheld a fox below,
Who flattered her fine plumage and her brains,
And said he hoped that he could hear some strains
Of song from her fine voice. This pleased the crow.
The vain and foolish girl opened her beak—
The cheese fell—Fox caught it—ran—Oh, the sneak!
December 8, 2002
Introduction for a
“Don Juan”ian Epic about Chris and Amy
By Christopher J.
O’Brien
Imagine, if you
will, an ancient land:
An aged country
sev’ral nations wide,
And rich with lore
and legendary pride
And full, within, of
legends, vast and grand.
And now, dear
reader, I’ll ask you to muse—
For your amusement,
maybe, or instead,
Perhaps,
instruction—on a man who’ll wed
A native of this
country: one whose views
Are forged by
culture of his native place,
His motherland, so
distant from his bride’s,
But also with
traditions old and hoary.
When these two
lovers, tired of the chase,
Get married, next
they have to choose which side’s
The one where they
will live. Now, hear my story. . .
.
Sonnet for my Literature
and Writing Students, on the occasion of a sonnet writing assignment related to
the “Sonnet Celebration at NYUST 2002”:
“My teacher says my goddam sonnet’s due
“To-morrow, lunchtime; actually, twelve noon.
“I can’t believe it, but in fact it’s true:
“The month since he assigned it passed so soon!
“I’ve scribbled,
doodled, scratched out, and defaced
“My paper: ‘t looks like soldiers marched upon
it!
“Creative writing’s
just not to my taste.
“One trochee’s Okey
Dokey—but a sonnet?!
“To join a grand
tradition that’s Shakesperian’s
“A ‘far, far better
thing’ than what I ‘wantest.’
“My major’s
MIS! I’ve no experience,
“Nor any wish to
enter this dumb contest!”
Well—I
suggest, if you would be a writer,
Get
started early! Don’t pull an all-nighter.