Julia Baldwin – Poetry Collection

Phoenix

she crouched like a bird on a perch 

her eyes were sharp like a hawk

she hovered over her land 

it was hers and hers alone


but still she hovered too close

afraid of what might be next

she coveted her valleys and groves

but cherished her beautiful water most of all


it shined with the power of a thousand suns

glowed deep into the night

to the people it was a sign of rebirth

a sign of passion

a place to wash away spite


but the water couldn’t handle her consistent, watching eyes

nor the pressure of her wings

it was tired and needed reprieve


so just one day,

it upped and walked away,

taking her glory with it


and all she was left was a canyon,

an everlasting hole in her heart

the thing she tried so hard to protect had failed her,

Leaving only that indelible mark


Berlin

when they were young, the twins were inseparable

through peace,

love,

war,

they always seemed to band together


until one day,

a man came to stay

not knowing what he would find

welcomed by the twins with open arms 

but only one he seemed to mind


he picked his favorite and told the other lies

until one day, the twin replied 

“this is my home, you are not welcome here, 

take my brother and say goodbye”


but the other twin was upset at his brother’s disgrace

of the first friend he was to find

so he declared war

brother against brother

man against man

land versus land


by the end of the war, their home was in shambles

both of the twins were traumatized

the only remaining sense of sanity,

the wall that brought more demise


San Antonio

there once was a man with cowboy spurs

pacing in his place in the sky

he was proud of his little city

proud of the culture, the food, the fiesta


so he decided he was too good for everyone else

he wanted to be one and his own

so he disgraced his compadres

and declared himself independent


but the rest of the sky was proud of the city as well, 

missed their friend,

wanted them back,

so they waged a war against the man with the spurs,

only hoping to regain some intel


and so they fought

night after night

right on the man’s home ground

until one day, this reached his most cherished place

and one by one, destroyed his men


victory was lost 

hope was tarnished

and all he had to say was this

“remember the Alamo”


Boise

there once was a man in the mountains,

a family man of sorts,

who spent his days on his farm

and his nights on his overlook


he provided his people with potatoes,

smiling at them as they passed,

wanting only to be happy

and to bring his love to others


soon, the word spread of this benevolent king

a man who could get you what you wanted,

a man who cared

so the people came in flocks


with them, they brought an elixir, 

which turned to magic in your mouth

at first taste, the king was addicted,

always demanding more


until one day, he stopped his days in the field,

his nights on the overlook,

bringing no more potatoes to his people,

only sitting at home with his magic elixir


this man was no longer a family man

or benevolent

or kind

he was putrid and gluttonous

leaving his people high and dry


Los Angeles

her hair glows in the sun,

a beautiful honey blonde,

forming a halo around her head,

the perfect picture of innocence


but is she so innocent after all?

poverty, rape, murder, harassment, corruption,

it all lies beneath the surface;

she doesn’t try to hide it


but still, she lures you in,

sitting regal upon her throne,

the scent of orange groves wafting from her skin


she can make you a star

you could glow high in the sky,

not a care in the world,

kiss your problems goodbye


or she could break you apart,

attacking your weaknesses until you fall,

turning you into a facet of her

just another name in the hall of broken hearts


you like to think you have a choice

but don’t you realize?

it’s no longer up to you,

in her hands lays your demise


Szczecin

there once was a little, shy girl

timid and naive

but though she was little, she was anything but innocent


the ghosts of her ancestors haunted her life,

an everlasting sign of familiar despair,

of the trauma she would never shake


for although she brought her own life,

it was forever tainted with the past,

of the horrors she allowed to happen,

of the pain she once felt

and so everyday, she sat in the corner,

slowly rocking to herself


through the lens of her eyes,

she could only see grey,

in herself,

in her town,

in the sky,

painting life with an ominous, dreary hue


Gig Harbor

an old fisherman sits in the sky looking over his land,

he watches the people stream by as he lounges back, 

yet the winter makes him sad

and he can’t help but cry.


down pours his tears all over the land,

on the sound,

the trees,

the trails,

soaking and drowning the things he’s supposed to love

feeling ever lonely, sitting above.

until one day, he finds a friend,


“cheer up,” she says, “don’t cry”

pulling him in close

brightening the sky

and to the people, bringing joy


but the man doesn’t know how to handle this love

wouldn’t even if he tried

so he pushes her away,

fending off her generosity

until one day she stops pushing back

and the man can’t help but cry

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