This is a small collection of poetry written by Elizabeth Blue, from her most recent ones, written at age 22, in 2012, back to her earliest poems at age 9, in 1999.  To read more, see the “Blog Category: Elizabeth Blue’s Poetry” for posts that contain more of her poetry.

Tucson: my one true love

{Something I’m working on as I drink a mint julep at 5pm in a garden of the sunny sunny city I have learned to call home.} Elizabeth Blue 5.18.12

Tucson Arizona is unequivocally my one true love.

Do I doubt that I have truly loved various exes?


I have never doubted, since I first left my Tucson, that I truly loved it in absolute terms.

Tucson cradles me, it kept me solitary when my youth, arrogance and zealousness could have destroyed potential connections and relationships I wasn’t ready to experience.

Tucson feeds me avocados at affordable prices, burritos at all hours of the day and night, fresh roasted coffee in the mornings and authentic tamales between 10am and 7pm.

Tucson serves me heavy mint juleps for $5 at 4 in the afternoon without judgement or expectation.  Tucson drips hot fresh roasted espresso down my throat at 5am when I’m late for work.

Tucson loves me, Tucson employs me.  Tucson reminds me there are still fights worth fighting and still strangers worth knowing whose eyes I’ve been catching for years.

Tucson kicks dust in my face when I am wrong and pushes me to exhaustion at 110 degrees in the middle of summer when I need to remember god and humility by jumping into a pool.

Tucson gave me a community of Tucsonians who have formed mini-colonies of our kind in strange cities so that when I travel I rarely feel alone.

Tucson taught me “yall” and country boys in crisp white shirts on Sundays.  Tucson gave me a reason to believe in having a home town and speaking Spanish.

Tucson taught me that not all Texans are evil.

Tucson dragged me out of graves I’ve dug myself 100 times, claiming truths I was not ready to believe:  That I’m still needed, that I’m still loved.

Tucson dragged me by my hair (or bald head), all dusty and tired, to friend’s front porches, handed me a beer and whispered ‘drink baby drink.  It’ll make you feel better.’  And Tucson didn’t lie.

Tucson hugged me real close and told me it was time for me to leave but that it still thought I was beautiful.  Then Tucson called me back home.

Tucson gave me a home, gave me a family I knew was finally real and didn’t and wouldn’t forget me.  Tucson gave me my body back when I became a ghost.  Gave me the best doctor in the country, a neighbor in my backyard, when I had cancer.  Tucson fetched me, Tucson fed me, took care of me and kept me alive and gave me warm dusty backyards with ferns falling in my eyes when I had become accustomed to harsh steel and cities without eye contact.

Tucson whispered in my ears, late at night, when I thought I was all alone, all the stories I would ever need to tell to be a writer.  Tucson hugged me close and left me fearless.

Tucson taught me a murderer’s kiss and the most tender feminine men I have ever known. Let me stomp on them and worry about punishment that was delivered later.

Tucson fed me when I was hungry, left me when I was spoiled and kicked me in the face when I got arrogant.  Taught me the difference between cheap and easy.

Tucson gave me a few years of my life worth recording

that’s still recording.

That I think is still recording me.

May 18, 2012 © Elizabeth Blue

Another Tucson Piece
(written 2 years ago – 2010)

Oh yeah, I wrote this Tucson poem two years ago, when I was preparing to leave for the second time.  I think its probably more authentic than the piece I wrote today.

Tucson Poem:
I woke up 4 years ago in a Tucson that let me know
in no uncertain terms
that it had me in its hand.
That touched my head and said
‘Ok girl,
let’s get up now.’
Its the Tucson that made me let it in when I didn’t want to
when I would rather have raised a fist
in fights of solidarity which rang true in my ears
but by that time were empty
– completely devoid of current and useful tools or strategy.
The Tucson to whom I said
let me level with you:
I don’t really want to be here.”
But who took me regardless.
Its the Tucson that pounded at my door
on my head
and forced its way into my body
by any means necessary.
The same Tucson who I tried to escape
than tried to escape back to a few months later
with blood in my mouth
and steel in my teeth.
Its not the Tucson tattooed on anyone’s back
or calf
or arm.
Its the Tucson that noticed who I was when I walked down 4th Avenue.
The Tucson that hired me
that recruited me
the Tucson that fought to find me
that I had to fight not to find
– But did
two years later.
Its the Tucson that wouldn’t let me go
whose hooks bled tears of restraint
in my not so thick skin.
Its the Tucson who didn’t know me.
Didn’t know Brieanna
or Violet Vile
or Missie Mae
or Pirate.
The Tucson that never called me Zippy.
Its the Tucson that took me
then let me go and let me be.
Its the Tucson that made me realize the stinging zeal
of oppression.
Of the minute details that I would never have familiarized myself with otherwise.
Its the Tucson who made me fight for what I believe in
who told me that there are still fights
worth fighting.
Its the Tucson who cradled me in its arms
who taught me touch and warmth and safety.
Then turned away a few months later full of apprehension
and hesitation toward becoming
‘too close.’
Its the Tucson I still defend
I think it just validates me now.
Its the city and the town that gave me a structure.
Small enough to learn,
big enough to grow.
Its the Tucson that incubated my not so subservient
feelings of social justice
and political change.
Forced them to give up the forefront of my mind
to more important things
like getting high
and falling in love.
Its the Tucson that gave me
a best friend crying in a Mercedes as we went 110mph down Oracle.
Gave me a tortoise in my front yard.
Who familiarized me with the not so sweet drip of amphetamines
and introduced me to 4 in the morning.
The same Tucson that killed Lacey
That put Brendan behind bars
and left me to explain to his girlfriend
Its the Tucson that poured long islands down my throat in Mexico
and in not so seedy bars downtown.
The Tucson that made me afraid
to walk down the street with blue hair
that made me give away my last pair of doc martins
and hate myself for it.
Its the Tucson that cut my hair short
that asked me to wear bellbottoms
and peace sign rings
get hair wraps
then spit in my own face for being such an oxymoron.
A purchased or incorporated hippie.
Its the Tucson that is just now allowing me to listen to Angela Davis again.
The Tucson that’s finally saying
to caring about women’s rights
political hierarchy
and the fight of the revolutionaries.
Its the Tucson that gave me Leftover Crack
and Wu-Tang
but took away
Strung up
The Exploited
and Black Flag.
Dear Tucson who gave me Johnny
and his beer eyed blues.
Gave me Sam
her cats and her know-how.
Gave me Felice
her hypocritical face off
with the institution I learned to exonerate.
Gave me Andrew
his sweet knowing and knowing me.
Gave me Cailin and Julia
and taught me sistership.
Gave me Felipe
and Jomo
and Breyell
and Adam
and Jet
and Mike and Autumn.
The Tucson that gave me a couple chapters of my life
worth recording.
That’s still recording
that I think is still recording me.
Elizabeth Blue, ©2010

Bird’s Nest

Five days ago I watched two birds mate.
Yesterday I watched as they began
in unison
to build their nest.

Today it occurs to me
that I will be gone
by the time they lay eggs
and the eggs make way
for the new life
within them.

Today it occurs to me that I will be gone.
The lines between body and land have blured
and the land will miss my body.
Perhaps it will be lonely
I think it will weep.
I think it will miss me
more than my body or mind
could miss it.

made it real.
That is something today brought the actual
lack of myself
in Tucson
on this porch
into the forefront of my reality.
I’m ashamed to say
that it hadn’t occurred to me before
the breathtaking absence
of myself
my body
my flesh and blood holder of humanity
would cease to exist as it has for so many years.
In a desert where wind is a promise
and rain is the greatest solace.

2010 – before moving to Seattle from Tucson

Elizabeth Blue, ©

Elizabeth Blue, Elizabeth Meagher, poetry, Obama

Elizabeth Blue, © 2008

My Wish for You

May revelation  flourish in your mind.
May joy spread through your every being.
May life occur in your soul.
May you know who you are.
May you love yourself and others in the world.
May you cherish your mother,
may you love your father.
May you cry,
May you be angry,
May you laugh with your soul singing along.
May you dance and be beautiful,
May you be adored and loved.
May you be full of yourself and who you are.
May you live life,
may you be life.
And someday may you lie down and die.

August 29, 2004 age 14
Elizabeth Blue, ©

Birthday poem for Zelie
(her stepmother)

I walk in the divine forests of wonder,
I see truths clear as crystal that grows from the mountains of challenge.
I see many lies, as foggy and beautifully spun as spider’s webs in the fog of our minds.
But underneath it all I experience.
I strive to experience everything,
like snowflakes on eyelashes right in front of my face. The world is in my eyes,
but I am blinking it away trying to see everything else.
And you,
who can see this in me,
I know that you too have seen the divine forests of wonder.
You know the soft ground from which questions spring,
anxious as faeries to weave their dance around you.
You know the canopy of the trees,
in which birds cry out their own songs of love truth and sorrow.
You know what it is to gaze up at these birds with the purest of admiration
and wonderment, soaked in the sheer beauty of love.
You know what it is to wander in this beautiful forest, covered with the dewdrops of life.
You who have been here long before me
You dear wise one who knows
you are now my guide, you show me the way.
And with every ounce of my being I am grateful.

I bow to you and take your hand, for we both walk in the divine forests of wonder.

November, 2004 age 14
Elizabeth Blue, ©

Moments – A Mother’s Day Poem for Lucia

There are no days anymore, just moments,

The sun sets and the moon rises.

What is today?

What is now?

Does anything ever end if we can visit it in memory.

What is today, yesterday, tomorrow?

Moments that is what they are.

May, 2003, age 13
Elizabeth Blue, ©

The Shadow of My Face

half of my face
hidden in darkness

hidden in the shadow of secrets
and the world.

half of my face
visible in the light

the light of passion
and the world.

Half of my face is hidden in nothing
Nothing but the deepness of reality.

April 2000
age 10
Elizabeth Blue, ©

Twinkling with Motherly Love

Twinkling with motherly love, she knows her destiny is
next to nothing.
But still she holds her head high.
Her angel child holds out a bird to her,
“Why a bird?” she asks,
“So you can have wings to fly.
Like me, your angel child.”
She smiles a real smile
not a smile she smiles for the passers by.
But a true smile
a loving smile
that last forever
and then she flies away
to freedom

Spring, 2000
age 10
Elizabeth Blue, ©

written as a 4th grade class assignment in a museum, as a response to this piece of art: Title – Clock, French, ca. 1800 Artist – Barancourt

Surrounded by the Spirits

Here I sit, knowing, hoping, guessing,
that I am safe.

Here I sit, thinking, hoping, knowing
that I am surrounded by the spirits,
the ones dead but still so alive, so living, so aware, so aware of me,
for I am really one of them.

December 5, 1999, age 9
Elizabeth Blue, ©

All poems written by Elizabeth Blue © 2012

28 thoughts on “Poetry ~ Elizabeth Blue

  1. Dear Lucia,

    I have been very touched by Elizabeth’s poetry – it has a very warm, earthly fee. How wonderful that you have these written words from your daughter. My own sister lost her daughter (aged 19) but we know she is still in our hearts. It is true, the bond of love can never be broken. May your bond with Elizabeth comfort you always.

    Kindest regards

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Dear Wendy,
      Thank you so much for reading Elizabeth’s poetry and for your kind words. I’m so sorry for the loss of your niece. They are always in our hearts…

      love, Lucia.


  2. IElizabeth was my dear friend in elementary school. She’s one of those people you find yourself thinking about 16 years later. I remember her walking on the sidewalk as if it were a catwalk and she was a supermodel during fashion week by jungle gym as everyone was playing. And making houses for fairies by the hill. she was always opinionated and always very sweet and kind. The world needs more Elizabeth’s. I’m sad that we won’t meet again. Thank you so much for sharing her poems. She is An amazing person. ❤️❤️


    1. Dear Julia,
      this is Lucia, Elizabeth’s mom. I remember you well, and have wondered about you over the years. I’m glad you found this blog and I love the memories you share of Elizabeth! Such great descriptions of her. I hope you’re doing well and would love to hear about your life. Feel free to email me at if you feel like. I live on Maui and Molokai now with my partner (who’s from Molokai).
      love and aloha, Lucia


  3. Something I wrote in the memory of Elizabeth Blue. May she always smile.

    They say nothing lasts forever.

    Then what is this that I
    hold inside?
    Through innocent mistakes to
    adolescent days,
    in the silence of the wind
    upon the sea’s pristine gaze:
    I have lived them all,
    these many unforgettable suns,
    in the birth of the sky,
    in the death of my moon.

    They say nothing lasts forever.

    Then what is this that I
    dream inside?
    Beneath dust-filled lines
    and my naked wounds,
    in trickling hours
    upon Time’s untroubled soul,
    a passing beauty to grace
    my scarred outside:
    to once more breathe,
    to once more fulfill.

    They say nothing lasts forever.

    Then what is this that I
    live inside?
    From nostalgic arms to
    beloved names,
    in the loneliness of the street
    until the night’s unfinished games:
    I have lived them all,
    these many unknowable worlds
    in the cold of the grave,
    in the warmth of my sleep.

    The universe has shrunk
    into a quivering bead of dew,
    and all I can hold
    is the immensity that one utterance
    of the Eternal has spread, anew.
    My voice has merged with the
    speaking shadows from
    the Past;
    I am finally empty
    to forever and forever last.

    They say nothing lasts forever.


      1. Yes, like her, I too am a poet, and this is how poets honor beauty and grace and, indeed, life and death. I wish she knew she still has the power to touch us mortals. There is divinity in us all; sometimes life manifests it, sometimes death.


        1. Red, I see that you are a poet, and I love how you honor her beauty and grace.

          I believe that Elizabeth does “know” that she continues to touch and positively affect those of us still in body… there have been many such stories, including my own experiences, of the “EB” effect – wonderful synchronicities and opportunities for fulfillment that have come to her family and friends since her transition. As for “knowing” after death, I believe that somehow there is a consciousness that continues, and that part of her is still aware of us and influencing us.


  4. I am left with no words, Lucia. Elizabeth was and still is a beautiful human being. I saw the video and read her poetry – it has left me with a greater appreciation for life. Celebrate the spirit that she was and will always be. Thank you for sharing her with us. I found her through the “Beautiful Body” project, and her eyes held me captivated. I am now taking away a part of her with me, for always.


    1. Thank you so much for reading, and for your beautiful comments! I am grateful that her spirit is still with us, and I love sharing her here with others. I am
      happy to know that she has touched you in this way.
      Blessings to you, Lucia


      1. Though I have never been there (I am from India), I feel a strong connection with Tucson. And when I read her poetry on Tucson, I felt the same connection with her. It is so great to see a mother’s love through these writings. She is proud of you, Lucia.


        1. Yes, Elizabeth loved Tucson! It is a powerful place that drew us to it, and I’m sure it was in large part because Elizabeth had such a connection with this place. I am proud of her, and feel her love too. Thanks again for writing!


  5. “A Lifetime”
    What an incredible piece of art and wisdom and insight that poem is. Thank you so much for sharing your daughters work with the world. It is a privilege to read her words.


    1. Laurel, thank you so much for reading Elizabeth’s poetry and for your comment. I love sharing her writing and knowing that it touches others – that is a huge gift to me! blessings, Lucia


  6. Dear Lucia, I just learned from Sue Britson at Step One today about Elizabeth’s passing. I am so very sorry. My daughter Julia is 16 now, a budding writer, and she read Elizabeth’s poems and were just amazed … “Such raw talent, Mom, at such a young age.” Julia especially liked her earlier poems — ” at 10, to write like that, so terrifying”, and her Obama poem. “It’s a pity I was born a few years too late, or I would have loved to meet her.” Love & light to you and Julianna. Teacher Jane Lin


    1. Dear Jane, thank you so much for writing and for your and your daughter’s comments. I have such fond memories of both Elizabeth and Julianna’s time at Step One and feel it was an incredible foundation for them. Elizabeth’s writing was nurtured even then, at age 4!

      Please send my love and gratitude to all the teachers there for their wonderful, important work! I think all of Elizabeth’s teachers have moved on (Marla, and Linda?) and Julianna’s too (Amalie, Janet and Zeena?) but if they’re around send my love to them especially and to Sue of course. I remember you as an important part of the community and am grateful to hear from you. blessings and love, Lucia


  7. Really no words can express what I have just read this August 15, 2013!
    But I will try: your Daughter so beautiful, so insightful, still lives on. Such love, such sadness but only truth! That thru great saddness comes great love. The kind of love which God meant for us to experience. I am so sorry you lost your precios Daughter but I am not sorry for all that she taught you, now me and everyone else! At 10 for her to have those words is amazing. What a beautiful spirit. She is now with us all and helping us in this moment! What a blessing. Much love. Kathleen


    1. Kathleen, thank you so much for reading and sharing your thoughts. Elizabeth was and continues to be a beautiful spirit, and I’m grateful you are experiencing her!blessings and love, Lucia


  8. Thank you, Lucia, for sharing with us this amazing Soul called Elizabeth Blue. She lives on through her words that shake me awake to the Truth of our shared humanity. She lives on through the goose bumps I feel. She lives on through her beautiful mother, who had the courage to walk this exquisite and challenging walk with her….and who must feel so satisfied, and heartbroken, and proud!


    1. Joan, thank you so much for reading, and for writing. I am grateful that her words touch you and indeed, I am deeply proud, grateful to have her words to share with others, and also heartbroken that she is no longer here in body. so many blessings, Lucia


  9. Wow! Elizabeth is so very authentic. Her poetry chronicles and celebrates her earthly journey as both miracle and mystery beyond time into eternity. Thank you for sharing the beauty of your daughter’s revelations with all of us.


    1. Milton,
      Wow – thank you so much for reading Elizabeth’s poetry and for your thoughtful and beautiful comment! I am so grateful to hear from you and hope you’ll continue to read as I share more of her writing and poetry.


  10. What an inspiration! Such courage, lush passion – an incredible genius. I am filled with the love of her.


  11. Lovely poems! Incredible wisdom reflected at a very young age. Thank you so much for sharing threse Lucia, as it gives me an even better sense of the preciousness of your daughter


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