Written for Cinquain Poetry Prompt #30 where
our inspiration word is “envy”. Also for Sue &
Gerry’s Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge
and the word “prepare”. This is my cinquain.
Tag: Jealousy
RDP sunday: quit
Today at RDP, drkottaway asks us to get
creative with the word ‘quit’. Thanks, Doc!
Here’s where the prompt word took me.
The Invitation
Our gracious host, Rochelle, encourages us
to be creative by writing a story in 100 words
or less using the photo prompt below. This is
Friday Fictioneers. Here’s where the photo took me.
Ever Green
Written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt #396
where we are asked to use the word “beleaguer”.
In exactly 40 words, this is my flash.
A Sudden Slip Of The Tongue
Written for The Unicorn Challenge where we are
asked to get creative in 250 words or less using
the photo below as inspiration. This is my story.
His Jealous Mother
Written for dVerse Poets – Quadrille Monday 209 – Plucking Strings
Our host Lisa asks us to include the word “string(s)” in our piece.
This is my free verse poem based on a true story as told by my mother.
My father’s mother hated my mother for marrying her son.
Returning from their honeymoon, my parents visited her mother, then his mother.
When his mother opened the door, she pushed my mother down the stairs, breaking the string of pearls around my mother’s neck.
NAR©2024
44 Words
This is “A String of Pearls” by Glenn Miller and His Orchestra.
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
John and Cynthia and Yoko and May: Strained Affairs
Written for Jim’s Song Lyric Sunday where the theme
this week is all about songs that incorporate whistling
“I didn’t mean to hurt you; I’m just a jealous guy.”
For all his jokes, frenetic antics and mugging for the camera, John Lennon was a quiet and insecure man, an ardent peace-lover whose young life was filled with much sadness, great depth and many demons. He was brilliant, an extraordinary talent and, all too often, he demonstrated a sharp-tongued mean spirit and jealous streak.
According to George Harrison, his friend John could be a “saint or a total bastard”.
With a sea-faring, mostly AWOL father and a free-spirited mother whose accidental death traumatized him for years, John was raised by his Aunt Mimi and Uncle George. His mother’s memory would later serve as a major creative inspiration.
John Lennon met Cynthia Powell in 1957, when they were students at the Liverpool College of Art. Although Powell was intimidated by Lennon’s attitude and appearance, she heard that he was obsessed with the French actress Brigitte Bardot, so she dyed her hair blonde. Lennon asked her out, but when she said that she was engaged, he shouted, “I didn’t ask you to fuckin’ marry me, did I?” She often accompanied him to Quarrymen gigs and travelled to Hamburg with Paul McCartney’s girlfriend to visit him. Recalling his reaction when he learned that Cynthia was pregnant, Lennon said, “There’s only one thing for it Cyn. We’ll have to get married.” And they did; their son Julian was born a few months later.
Cynthia attributed the start of the marriage breakdown to John’s use of LSD and she felt that he slowly lost interest in her. When the group travelled by train to Wales in 1967, a policeman did not recognize Cynthia and stopped her from boarding. I guess no one .… including John …. bothered to ID her! She later recalled how the incident seemed to symbolize the end of their marriage. After spending a holiday in Greece, Cynthia arrived home to find John sitting on the floor with Yoko Ono in bathrobes; she left the house to stay with friends, feeling shocked and humiliated. A few weeks later, she received notice that Lennon was seeking a divorce on the grounds of adultery while she was away in Greece and he wanted custody of Julian. After negotiations, Lennon capitulated and agreed to let Cynthia divorce him.
John and Yoko were married and they became even more inseparable; to the surprise and consternation of everyone within the Beatles’ organization, Yoko accompanied John to the recording studio …. an undeniable first. She was a quiet but constant presence and John only had eyes for her.
After a couple of years, May Pang entered their lives as their personal assistant. About three years later, Ono confided in Pang that her marriage to Lennon had become strained and she suggested Pang reach out to John as a “sexual distraction” for him. Pang agreed; she and John soon left for Los Angeles, beginning an 18-month period John later called his “lost weekend”. ” Pang encouraged Lennon to develop regular contact with Julian, whom he had not seen for two years, as well as his former bandmates and friends.
Much to Yoko Ono’s chagrin, the “diversion” turned into a relationship. John and May Pang considered buying a house together and he refused to accept Yoko’s telephone calls. He finally agreed to meet Yoko, who claimed she had found a cure for smoking. After the meeting with Yoko, John failed to return home or call Pang. When Pang telephoned the next day, Ono told her that Lennon was unavailable because he was exhausted after a hypnotherapy session. Two days later, Lennon told Pang that his separation from Ono was now over, causing Pang to speculate that Lennon had been brainwashed (!) as a result of his hypnotherapy.
What a convoluted mess among such allegedly forward-thinking people! John and Yoko remained married until his death in 1980; they are the parents of musician Sean Lennon. Yoko Ono never remarried.
“I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m just a jealous guy.”
Those haunting lyrics from John Lennon’s timeless song, “Jealous Guy”, uncover the darker side of his iconic relationship with Yoko Ono. They are words that have rung true to anybody with insecurities and obsessions …. likely why it’s one of Lennon’s most enduring tracks. It’s also my favorite Lennon solo piece.
John Lennon began writing the song in 1968 as “Child of Nature” while with the Beatles during their spiritual retreat in India. The demo of “Child of Nature” featured Lennon’s double-tracked vocal and an acoustic guitar. Early the following year, he revisited the song as “On the Road to Rishikesh” during the Get Back sessions. Eventually, the lyrics were scrapped and replaced by the now well-known “Jealous Guy” lyrics for Imagine.
In “Jealous Guy”, John sings of his envious streak that would often result in tumult between him and Yoko; he admitted that jealousy would regularly dictate how irrational he’d behave either around her or without her. The song was never released as a single during John’s lifetime. It became an international hit in a version by Roxy Music in early 1981, the year after John’s death.
“Jealous Guy” is one of the most commonly recorded Lennon songs, with at least 92 cover versions. In November 1988, the single peaked in the United States at #22 on the Hot Adult Christian chart and reached #80 on the Billboard Hot 100 in conjunction with the release of the documentary film “Imagine: John Lennon”.
This is “Jealous Guy” by John Lennon
Lyrics
… I was dreaming of the past
And my heart was beating fast
I began to lose control
I began to lose control
… I didn’t mean to hurt you
I’m sorry that I made you cry
Oh no, I didn’t want to hurt you
I’m just a jealous guy
… I was feeling insecure
… You might not love me anymore
… I was shivering inside
I was shivering inside
… I didn’t mean to hurt you
I’m sorry that I made you cry
Oh no, I didn’t want to hurt you
I’m just a jealous guy
… I didn’t mean to hurt you
I’m sorry that I made you cry
Oh no, I didn’t want to hurt you
I’m just a jealous guy
… I was trying to catch your eyes
Thought that you was trying to hide
… I was swallowing my pain
I was swallowing my pain
… I didn’t mean to hurt you
I’m sorry that I made you cry
Oh no, I didn’t want to hurt you
I’m just a jealous guy
I’m just a jealous guy
I’m just a jealous guy
Source: Musixmatch
Songwriter: John Winston Lennon
Jealous Guy lyrics © Lenono Music
Bonus track. This is “Child of Nature” (Esher Demo) by The Beatles. (Esher is the town in England where George Harrison’s home Kinfauns was located and where the demos were recorded.)
Released November 22, 1968
Composer/Lyricist: John Lennon
Producer(s): George Harrison, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr
Studio Personnel: Giles Martin, Mixer
Very big thanks to Jim Adams for hosting another great weekly Song Lyric Sunday.
Thanks for stopping by. See you on the flip side. 😎
NAR©2024
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.
View From The Bridge
Written in response to The Unicorn Challenge
where we are asked to be creative in 250 words or less
by using the photo you see below. This is my story.
NB. My story is another perspective prompted by C.E. Ayr’s intriguing response to this week’s Unicorn Challenge. Please check out C.E.’s story here and/or here. I hope you enjoy my version and his.
Contrary to popular opinion, sometimes these things really do just happen – at least that’s how it was for me.
My husband was out for the day … the monthly visit with his son from his first marriage. I never fault him this time alone; it’s good for him and it gives me the chance to spend a day in my favorite book store.
One day while on my way home, I paused to watch the swans; from the bridge I saw a man emerge from his boat. As if drawn by my presence, he glanced up at me and waved. I waved back. Then the most unexpected thing happened: he beckoned me. I went down to greet him and that was the beginning of our affair.
Now I live for my husband’s monthly visits with his son.
This month my husband’s son is backpacking with friends and there is no visit. He busies himself with tennis and darts at the pub. Desperate to meet my lover, I bailed on our tennis game, pretending to be sick, and my husband went off alone to find a partner.
The afternoon with my lover was heavenly; half-way home I turned around and returned to the boat.
How could I know my husband had paused on the bridge to watch the swans and saw me leave the boat?
How could my husband know that while he was plotting his jealous revenge, I had returned to the boat and was inside when he torched it?
NAR©2024
250 Words
This is “Diary Of Hate” by Michael Nyman
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.
Almost Paradise
Written for Fandango’s Story Starter #142
Was everything that happened really all my fault?
It all came about one day in April, the 1st, to be exact. Newly divorced, I had recently moved into a house in the country and was enjoying my morning coffee on the patio. Birds of many different varieties flitted about the bushes and fruit trees in the yard next door. Even a couple of deer and a few rabbits were contentedly munching on the grass. I felt like I was in the middle of a Disney movie and wouldn’t have been at all surprised if the animals started talking and singing!
Looking around my property I couldn’t help but compare my landscaping to that of my neighbor, Marjorie. Hers was overflowing with every sort of plant imaginable while mine had a paltry number of pitiful-looking bushes on the verge of death. I began to envision my very own Garden of Eden. There would be shrubs and fruit trees and flowers everywhere, graceful statues and a tranquil water feature. My yard was going to be much better than Marjorie’s!
Perhaps her ears were burning or it was just a coincidence but at that very moment Marjorie turned her head in my direction. Even from forty feet away I could see her beady eyes squinting at me. A rather obese woman, she was sweating profusely as she labored in her garden, her ridiculously small bonnet providing little shade to her balloon-like face. I waved to her but she didn’t wave back; either she didn’t see me or she chose to ignore me. Marjorie wasn’t all shits and giggles. Her husband left her for another woman (no big surprise there!) and her grown children lived far away. It seemed like her only joy in life was tending to her expansive garden.
Being a city boy, I knew nothing about gardening so I called the local nursery where one could get anything from a hose nozzle to a majestic pine tree. One of the landscapers came by a few hours later and walked through the property with me, making suggestions as we went along. I told him money was no object and gave him free reign to plant whatever he thought best – the more impressive the better.
A few days later the nursery’s trucks arrived at my house. I caught a glimpse of Marjorie peeking through her curtains as my many purchases were unloaded and wheeled into my yard. The landscapers got to work planting everything from small flowering shrubs to walls of bamboo. They put in an arbor, birdbaths, several angelic statues as well as a Japanese-inspired water feature. Before my eyes the once barren wasteland was now a flourishing oasis. Take that, Marjorie!
My new bountiful yard only spurred her on to do even more work in her yard; every time one of us added something new, so would the other. It became a petty, childish game of tit for tat; who could create the most majestic personal Nirvana?
The next morning while brewing a cup of coffee, I was shocked to see a police car and ambulance outside Marjorie’s house; she had suffered a fatal heart attack while working in her garden. Well, there certainly was no love lost between us but I never wished her any harm. She was a rotund woman; laboring day after day in her garden the way she did obviously put too much strain on her heart. I hoped whoever moved in next door would treat Marjorie’s yard with the same tender loving care.
A few weeks later I woke up to the screeching sounds of power tools and heavy machinery. Unable to see through my dense bamboo hedge, I walked around the front to Marjorie’s place; all her marvelous landscaping was being leveled! After everything was hauled away, a bulldozer began digging a huge hole. Week after week the work continued. The noise was enervating and I found myself spending more and more time working inside from my home office and away from my backyard utopia.
Finally one day in early August all was quiet; the work next door was complete. I decided it was time to fling wide the portals leading outside and enjoy an afternoon in the sun with the birds splashing in my water feature. My good friend Charlie stopped by and as we sat there enjoying a few ice cold Michelob Ultras, the pristine silence was broken by the shrieks, yelps and laughter of little children.
“Damnation! What now?” I grumbled, rolling my eyes and craning my neck for a peek.
Charlie nearly choked on his beer. “Don’t tell me you don’t know!”
“Know what?” I asked. I had no idea what he was talking about.
“You dumb son of a bitch!” Charlie howled. “Dear old Marjorie left a will stating that her house and property were to be leveled and converted into a daycare facility, complete with playground, carousel and swimming pool.”
“You can’t be serious! What about zoning laws?” I sputtered in disbelief. Visions of my plummeting property value made me groan. And Charlie laughed, clearly enjoying my distress a bit too much.
Was this some sort of twisted karma? I just wouldn’t let old Marjorie best me and now, what she couldn’t achieve in life she had accomplished in death. The ultimate victory was hers. I felt sick to my stomach.
“Almost paradise.” I sighed, a defeated man. Maybe everything that happened really was my fault after all.
NAR©2024
This is Joni Mitchell with “Big Yellow Taxi”
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.
From Eden
Sammi at Weekend Writing Prompt has challenged us to write
a poem or prose of exactly 97 words, including the word ‘anfractuous’.
I’ve added a few other prompts I had laying around, namely from
FOWC with Fandango, Weekly Prompts Colour Challenge and
Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge. This is my 97-word story.
They lived in lush green perfection of ripe fruit and pristine water. When their misadventures and disobedience angered the Maker, they and their sons were cast out.
One son, a farmer, made an offering of paltry wheat; the Maker was displeased.
The other, a shepherd, offered his firstborn lamb, which pleased the Maker.
In a panic, the jealous farmer killed his brother.
Enraged and saddened, the Maker banished the murderer, condemning him to a life of endless wandering.
Anfractuous paths covered the land. The farmer roamed for years, until blindly falling from a cliff to his death.
NAR©2024
97 Words
This is Hozier with “From Eden”
This portfolio (including text, graphics and videos) is copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR © 2017-present.
SEETHING MAN
Rochelle at Friday Fictioneers
has challenged us once again
with an intriguing photo prompt.
This is my response.
The man stood off to the side, silently watching, seething.
They were neighbors, friends at one time …. brothers, a lifetime ago. When asked to go into business together, he turned his friend down saying it was a foolish venture, throwing good money after bad. He was afraid.
His friend was successful in his business and became wealthy beyond measure while his own life languished. Jealousy turned to self-pity which morphed into anger and hatred so deep and volatile, his head pounded at the sight of his once friend.
And look at her with that flashy red purse. Disgusting.
NAR © 2023
100 Words
This is “My Brother’s Keeper” by Orphaned Land
The Elephant's Trunk 