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Shelly Seczawa' Profile

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About Me and My Poetry

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About My Poem


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He stood in the bar, and wasn't a pretty sight. His eyes were wild and blood-shot from effects of the other night.
He looked dirty and his clothes were ragged. I believe his face never saw a razor or a comb on his head.
I pause to watch him closely as he drained another mug, he throw it when he finished ,his voice was harsh and low.
... continued
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Some say she's wild, some say she's a child. I know she is both and she's in denial. I haste to think what she's gonna to do or where she 's going without telling her, I'll be blue. I think in time she'll be just fine. Some say she's brave and strong, I know she is. Sin City is no place for the young without guidance. If she's got strength she's like me. If she has free will, then shes like me. As a young woman is some what naive, trusting others is easy. Some are abused, left to amuse, some end up tragicly dieing. Some end up being ever after happy. Well, some say lots of things. As a guardian, it's hard to let go my lifes work is never done. Some angel must take over for me and watch my child when I can not see. "God!", I hope and pray that everything in life is as beautiful to her as she believes. Watch over my child and protect her as her journey on life begins. I love her very much. I wish the best for her.
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Rising sun above the mountain tops,
glistening dewdrops on the field crops.
I watched in awe to what I saw ,unfolding
... continued
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This is the time of year folks go places.
Every heart beats to travel the highways go explore different places.Lies paved, graveled,and off road trails of destinations taken.

... continued
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Your father on the battlefield is close to you tonight. That same moon smiles down on him,with glances just as bright.
your father likes to feel, I think that God has put him there for you a guiding light without a father's care.
Remember that same moon up there your father to can see. He likes to think its a sign put in the sky to guide us,
... continued
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Dead ghosts from the past are haunting me today.
 I can not find a weapon to frighten them away.
They all unite together and firm against me stand.
... continued
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I sit watching my Boo, The awkward handling of a paintbrush.
How color so dark can be so delightful and glow against blue shag.
The poking of nails that sound and hurt so painfully.
... continued
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P.S.  She sang through a cemetery with a loud  pitched tone. Silent but, precious, kissing Cliffords tomb stone.        
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Noice here is to enjoy, a sign of normal activity in our city. People traveling in the spring hearing children sing.  Don't give up "Freedom of Speech", don't become a night-crawling leech. Listen to the current flow on our rivershores beach.  Noice of nature will avail thunder, lightning, rain and hail. Mother nature its creator. Her wind on our faces blows a kiss on every race.Be good to eachother, just embrace. You can sit at home or in a park listen to your neighbors dog bark.  Take a walk down your street, sing a whistling beat. Day or night I will be listening, I'm an American with nothing missing. U.S.A.  9-22-01.
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He who is naive to see, the beauty of the beast just set free. The look he had, black-green eyes so cold, the glare of evil never to be told. The grip of a grizzly-bear, the appetite of a lion beware. He had the grace of a swan floating on a pond, ever so lightly rippling the creek or just walking with me ever so sheek. The stories he could tell about his old country would spook you for hours with full moons and scowls. The dreams he had of being a movie star,handsome,strong with a hellava build. He'd hardly listen to anyone,but not to listen to him he would get his gun. Food was his speciality, he was the best chef in Jackson prison city. Beer and whiskey he did enjoy but, he loved my mother more.For the rest of you, my daddy you just adore!
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