Just a question... Was asked What music do I like Who would you name? Be a symphony of oboes, violins, and barrel drums Scream of Angus' Gibson A story told by Eric's Strat The beat of Carney's Black Beauty snare And the 1961 Fender of Kenny Wayne Shepherd The Cappella voices To Snoop and Nas Kendrick and Tupac so many I don't name But bow with one love From the power Of "You's no good" To Linda's melodic "Blue Bayou" And Janis, words do elude See I write this with respect As a piece of creative writing To try to explain The purity of music A universal plain So many not a clue The honesty within Every verse, every beat Every word just the same The voice of the pure Yes, music is her name... With lyrics and poetry bringing life to short stories that we share, Giancasey finds beauty in every note.

you were there...

Tall grass sways in the breeze, 

In motion with the trees, 

Can't help but close my eyes, 

Feel the gentle caress at my knees. 

The scent of nature fills my senses, 

Every hunger so quenches, 

As I explore the world of creative writing, 

Can't deny the sound of silence, 

Every muscle now tenses. 

Then in a moment, 

In a heartbeat, 

In a blink of my eye, 

A pause takes hold, 

As my pen takes over, 

Translating thoughts into poetry. 

Not a breeze nor a scent, 

Not a touch nor sight, 

All but one sense, 

So guides me this night. 

In that moment, I knew you were there... 

As if your presence inspired the lyrics of our shared story, echoing in the backdrop of my short stories.

my only…

I can't look away

As she gently lies down

Light slowly dims

Birds speak not a sound

Silence sets in

A warm blanket o'er leaves

Nestled in the arms

Of the mightiest of trees

Have not closed my eyes

Gaze fixed to the sky

Waiting, so waiting

Longing am I

Just as I began to nod

A bird whispered my name

Hint of light peaked

From under the covers, she came

Light has returned

To these weary eyes

Anticipation well worth

My love, my love

My only sunrise

Crafted like Giancasey’s lyrics, this moment feels like poetry in motion, a scene worthy of creative writing or perhaps even a concise short story.

from the past…

On the edge of a thought, I find creative writing unfolds, a rope held taut as I sway with the wind in the rain.

Lost in the grip of a storm, though so forewarned, I refuse to hide from the pain, like lyrics penned in a Giancasey song.

In the past, I won't stay; yet it's hard to look away. The future is only ours to gain, filled with poetry and short stories yet to be written.

And learn from the past.

A friend...  

To only take it back  

To turn the hand of time  

The story of my life,  

Where creative writing meets the heart,  

I can't find the words jumbled in my mind.  

Thoughts are racing in a circle,  

To return to the start of time,  

When a simple feeling of kinship,  

Was tarnished by ineptness such as mine.  

To only take it back?  

Never to have beckoned,  

If only this short time in life  

Could hold but only one second.  

Would not trade a day,  

Not a minute nor a second,  

To hold this moment close at heart,  

To remember every word,  

Like the lyrics of a cherished song,  

Or the essence captured in poetry and short stories...  

With a friend...

from the truth…

A means to the end..

So often used

Without regard  

As smoke clouds the view

An ethos has risen  

Not seen since '33  

Races being starved to desperation  

How can this be  

Unless we allow it  

By just turning an eye..

Away from the truth  

In this realm of creative writing  

Please consider the words of Giancasey,

Where lyrics blend with poetry and short stories.

Please ask yourself why

Vengeance...\n\nUnable to let go  \nUnable to forgive  \nAble to kill and starve  \nLet the enemy so relive  \n\nIn the realm of creative writing, if only vengeance had a soul...\n\nThese words echo in Giancasey's lyrics, capturing the essence of poetry and the depth found in short stories.

Make no mistake...  

Since the first human  

Picked up a stone  

No matter what race  

Nor color nor home  

Fear has begot  

Never has left  

To believe to be right  

Two paths at a cliff  

In this moment, let us pause  

Reflect in the mirror of our creative writing  

Hope for humanity  

As Giancasey’s lyrics remind us,  

The power of Love becomes clearer,  

Echoing through poetry and short stories alike.

Breath of a hypocrite...  

The duality of man  

A hunger to sate  

The will to love  

The ability to hate  

Two sides of a coin  

Quenched in the lethe  

Now wash their hands  

Victim and Tormenter  

Both in one breath  

In creative writing, much like the lyrics of Giancasey, we explore themes of conflict and coexistence through poetry and short stories.

Through your actions...

An ocean of tears,

A wave of emotion and fears.

We look to a leader,

Able to reflect in a mirror,

And show compassion...

As our creative writing should become clearer.

There cannot be a side,

An action to hide.

If it hurts just one,

Lest taken out by the tide.

Please show compassion...

As our children, like Giancasey, should now decide...

Their future,

Through lyrics, poetry, and short stories.

Just one step...

A voice to be heard, 

In the realm of creative writing, 

Please use restraint. 

Never allow anger to lead, 

A heart not for the faint.

Please take this moment, 

And learn from the past. 

The higher road taken, 

The answer to last.

This road seems daunting, 

At this moment on this day. 

Never forget the message, 

As the lyrics of life and poetry have to say.

A step back to look at each other, 

A step back to understand another, 

A step back to see your brother.

A step forward to change, 

In the stories we share, be they short stories or otherwise.

With peace and love...

our fate…

So the age of tyrants has returned,

Positioning their egos by any means.

In this tale woven through creative writing,

The biggest slice of the pie,

Salivating are the fiends.

A chainsaw welder bows,

Gluttons of power so feast.

Served with every lie,

A platter of the least.

With an iron grin does he smile,

The pretense of power in his gate.

To only take be his ethos,

To only take, to only take.

A victim is his name,

Lest we never forget.

While tanks roll over every building and soul,

The new genocide so let...

Time will write this story,

In books here to come.

Of the egos who waged war,

On the children of our future, through poetry and short stories...

A fate I wish on none...  

And so the song begins,

The tempo accelerando.

Each bar begins to measure,

If only dal segno.

Await do we now for the chorus,

Voices of the murdered implore us.

To call out the names,

The souls of children we must.

Words to the many...

An insignificant person am I,

As we all are, can't you see? 

Yet we possess the ability to share,

To communicate, to truly be 

Human.

Such a journey we have traveled,

Eons walked in the footsteps of humanity,

Exploring the depths of creative writing,

In the many languages and stories we’ve crafted and talked.

I take this moment to express,

This lonely tear I shed for my only family,

As I beg for you to hear,

These lines that echo like lyrics from forgotten poetry.

We are one in this vast cosmos,

Bound together through short stories and shared meaning...

Flower or weed…

I speak of war, a theme often explored in creative writing.

Since not yet understood, this conflict unfolds, 

Never a solution for the greater good.

A zero-loss game, like those in Giancasey’s lyrics, 

Being played as you read, 

The outcome a gamble, 

Sowed by just a seed.

Be it flower or weed... poetry and short stories dive deep into these themes.

gamblers fate…

Zero loss game

How long till we see

A vacuum created

Paths not meant to be

The few reshuffle the deck

Greed only vies

Pockets to fill

On the bridge of lies

With every toss of the coin

Dice on a slanted table

Careful what you wish for

A hole to fall in...

Not just a fable...

In the realm of creative writing, Giancasey weaves lyrics that reflect the heart of this poetic exploration. These short stories unveil the nuances of chance and consequence, highlighting the delicate balance between fortune and folly.

Hope…

Politics and money

So often overlooked

The children of nations,

Cast in the piles,

A pile of burned books,

Too often the mindset

Of 'leaders' of nations

Choose political gain  

Over young lives overlooked,

I cry but one tear

For the ineptness of the 'quo.

Hope has but one,

Hope is here.

In the realm of creative writing, Giancasey, lyrics, and poetry,

All should know our story—

Hope remains alive in short stories yet to be told.

A lucky man...  

First breath borrowed  

This land of wonder  

A beat now distant  

All asunder  

Soft bed do I lay  

Pillow for my head  

Blanket holds me tight  

Calm voices said  

Touch of a hand  

To a warm embrace  

First sight of love  

A beautiful face  

Journey so begun  

Days flow as years  

So many smiles  

So many tears  

Now memories they stay  

Every branch on every tree  

Paths of my life  

Not planned yet to be  

My children  

My reason to be  

The Strongest limbs  

A majestic tree  

Last breath returned  

Stainless steel now my bed  

Night is my blanket  

To rest finally led  

Each moment of the journey  

A lifetime remembered comes to mind  

Not a lucky man at all  

...Blessed so am I  

...for the people in my life  

Through creative writing, I weave my emotions like Giancasey’s poignant lyrics in poetry or short stories, capturing the essence of a life well-lived.

My love,  

You saw me as I am  

With every fault  

Yet took my hand  

This man has long sought  

Always my love  

In creative writing, I will so be  

The lyrics of the love meant for you  

For all to see  

My only true love...  

Ani  

Inspired by poetry and short stories, my heart speaks only for you.

My love...

I woke in the night

From a dream

Or a fright

No, a wonderful sight

Is she

She had called my name

In a dream

Just the same

Yes, beauty did rain

Upon me

In my creative writing today,

For ever

Should I say

My muse, like Giancasey, in my ear every day

Be her Nee

The whisper in my ear

Be forever

Deafening clear

The love of my life

Always to be,

In my poetry and short stories,

Ani.

Tears…

Dried tacks 

On the cheek of a 

Mother's face

Cries 

Echo’s left  

In the dust  

A storm’s embrace

Fear 

Child's eyes 

Look upon for help from  

Every one of us

Lies 

Easily cast 

Personal gain 

No wonder there's no trust

Lost in plain sight 

A child now of the night 

No longer sees the light 

Anger is the only right

No longer knows why...

Years 

Now age 

In the hearts  

Of an orphaned child

Eyes 

Burned dry 

Abandoned children 

Now defiled

Disappears 

Lost forever 

Innocence's beauty 

Buried by wars

Skies 

Aglow with fire 

A generation of children's 

New stars

Lost in plain sight 

A child now of the night 

No longer sees the light 

Anger is the only right

No longer knows why...

As warmongers and their sycophants play their games 

And proclaim their strength in empty gains

While children starve

.....As leaders of this world show ...True weakness  

Through creative writing, we explore these haunting themes. Giancasey captures the essence of heart-wrenching lyrics that echo like striking poetry in the form of short stories, where each line reflects a truth too often ignored.

One voice...

Weeks spent searching for the right words in creative writing, 

So many poems and lyrics before, 

Yet nothing has changed. 

Am I so estranged 

From a reality that could be...

I can only reiterate, 

For every child that is hurt, 

This earth should cry and cry.

As the waters rise and rise... 

And the Sun fills all our skies.

Now I do indulge in imagery, 

But only to make a point with my poetry. 

This planet is the epitome 

Of neglect, greed, and stupidity.

Just look at our leaders, 

And use your voice for short stories that inspire change.