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?

Yes.

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
“look,
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
Sasquach
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
why.
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
‘Ok’
to caring about women’s rights
political hierarchy
socialism
and the fight of the revolutionaries.
Its the Tucson that gave me Leftover Crack
and Wu-Tang
but took away
Strung up
The Exploited
Plasmatics
Fear
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.

Something
today
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, © 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
darkness
and the world.

half of my face
visible in the light

the light of passion
exhaustion
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
freedom
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