Fogged Up Clarity

Heart on Glass

This is a little ditty I wrote over the bank holiday weekend whilst thinking about my future travelling and career plans.

Hope you enjoy:

Fogged Up Clarity

A glance away from

the madness proves that

the spine provided

isn’t always needed.

A step back and an intake of breath

shows up clearly on the glass

as finger writing.


© LE Purse 

April 20th 2014

Letting Go

Letting Go

Letting Go

This weeks topic over at Poetry Jam is about letting go. After thinking about this for a couple of days I wanted to talk about acceptance and the ease or difficulty in that depending on what it is you are letting go of and how much you have to let go of at one time. Letting one balloon rise up into the sky is very different from letting a whole bunch of them go, after all you can give one balloon all of your attention.

I ended up in a school assembly today (as part of my job) and found myself listening to a talk on mindful meditation (I try my best to do mindful breathing). It was like that little reminder knock first thing in the morning whilst I’m still in bed, except this was a couple of speakers mid afternoon in inner city London, reminding me to embrace letting go of my anxiety and worries through meditation.

I hope you enjoy my little contribution to this topic, enjoy:

One Breath

Watching as the red of the balloon slips behind the tree and towards sun,

listening to the crashing of the glass as it smashes to the floor.

Feeling her clammy fingertips pull away from mine,

seeing his wicker casket disappear behind the curtain.

Tasting the final tang of delight on the tip of a tongue,

hearing the start of the last song that coloured the best night of their lives.

Meditating on the thoughts that cause such worry,

exhaling as they float away on a breath as though never there at all.


© LE Purse


Water water everywhere

Water, Water

In the never ending game of waiting

the much saved up for hour ticks over

gone like fairy dust

as we slide into Spring.

Doubting the surety of self,

exchanging it for a heartbeat of uncertainty and agonizing, jaw clenching anxiety.

As the water fills the bath

your grey plimsolls become saturated,

each strand of material holding tightly onto a droplet.

The tide rises,

engulfing an ankle, a calf, and half a thigh.

It stops;

allowing you to stagnate in a cesspool of your own thoughts.


© LE Purse

30th March 2014

Inspired Building

Lee Plaza Hotel, Detroit, Bonnie Beechler

This weeks photo inspiration from Magpie Tales took me back to being in the middle of a home that was being developed with love always in mind.

My dad is one of those special people who can walk into an absolute wreck of a place and see past everything, to not only envisage an incredible transformation, but also have it finished in his head before he does a lap of the room! He has the ability to take a crumbling building and lovingly restore it with his hands; I admire him so much for this gift.

Therefore, today’s post is dedicated to him and his wonderful imagination, which although I did not inherit the ability to see how things will progress step by step, I did inherit some of his creative mind:

This Beautiful Crumbling Home of Mine

Ah, home of mine!

Wrecked though you may be – you are mine!

Breakfasting at the table is no easy feat,

nor buttering toast in my falling down kitchen.

Beyond the challenge

I see a place for my little ones to grow

as the floors become tiled

and ceiling cracks filled

this house will fill

full of food

full of music

full of love

full of life.

This wreck, though it may be, is my wreck;

my wreck

full of food

full of music

full of love

full of life.

The cracks give it character

the dust a touch of dignity

the ripped fabric a fevered fashion.

Now, all will go to make room for a home

for my darlings

full of food

full of music

full of love

full of life.

© LE Purse

March 10th 2014

International Women’s Day


This weekend was one of the biggest advocacy weekends across the globe: International Women’s Day. It was a day to celebrate, advocate, and shout about women the world over. 

I wandered down to London’s Southbank and just enjoyed the sunshine on my face and an open book. I thought about all the things I’d learned recently about modern feminism and how they’d affected my views on the world: the objectification of women and their bodies; the differences between the sexes from early ages; what just one more year of primary education could mean to a girl in a developing country.

Now, I am an incredibly fortunate young woman because I have not only been given all of the support I could ever want to achieve my dreams but I have always had a strong female role model in my mother. This weekend made me realise, in honestly the least patronising way possible, that other girls deserve that.

I was born into the right family, in the right country. Some women, ones I’ve met, aren’t quite as lucky. It made me realise that I cannot sit around and let this pass me by any more. I have no idea if, one day, the poetry I write will ever be published but I do know that I could help to give others a choice in their lives; after all, choices (in my opinion) are what make us fortunate.

So, this is in honor of all of the girls who aren’t given the choice to put down their pen and stop learning:

It’s the littlest of things

A book yearning to filled,

blank pages crying out

to feel the nib roll

left to right

right to left.

A mind yearning to be filled

blank spaces crying out

to drink in knowledge

and radiate pride.

A girl yearning for the life she wants,

not the life expected of her.

Give her the knowledge and the nib,

for she will write.

© LE Purse

March 9th 2014

Touchy Feely Stuff

FriendshipIt’s been a sunny few days in my world this week and several things have got me thinking about friends. Near or far, women or men, however you define friends, and whomever you feel most in tune with often allow you to feel at home wherever you are.

Your stability in the world depends on who you surround yourself with at different points in your life, and this is a little taste of that:

The Never Ending Cocoon of Sisterly Love

That warm teenage sisterhood that celebrates conformity

of boy bands, girl bands, waist bands, rubber bands,

leaves school with a surety of self

only to graduate university following a continuing trial of masks that don’t quite fit.

When the soles of worn converse hit new ground

backpacks of relationship adventures and complete and utter life fuck ups

are stored away to be told and retold

at the first few weekends back in Blighty over a pint in the sunny corner of a beer garden.

Pirouetting alone

not knowing which hand of cards to show

who to impress next

or where to find the newest place

as couples grinning manically tango

to the next bar, gig, performance, festival.

Whilst sitting cold and wet, slumped outside against the barriers without a ticket

a dress

a necklace

a bag

some wine

some cheese

some coffee

a hand and a shoulder

appear to form the next all singing, all dancing…

set of bottles to be lined up and turned into candle holders.

LE Purse ©

March 6th 2014


Adventurous LifeI know I haven’t written too much off my own back recently but life seems to be riding away on one of those fast forming stormy rain clouds. I will share more this week, I promise.

For now, this weeks inspiration from Poetry Jam is Trains and Train Changers. I have taken a fair few train journeys throughout both my travels and my daily life but I couldn’t find any one I wanted to write about. Instead, whilst on my way up to Sheffield to visit one of my oldest, and best, friends for her birthday weekend inspiration took hold. The anticipation of getting there after months of not seeing one another, coupled with a huge mocha meant my train journey was buzzing with an electricity of a life of it’s own; hence the words that were borne from it.

Not a usual choice of topic for me, but I hope you enjoy it non the less:


The coiled up cobra of energy is waiting to sink its venom into the nearest shrew.

Her jaw clenches in a murderous way,


just waiting for her moment.

Legs curl under legs as the leopard sprints her way t’wards the prey.

Closer and closer,

tasting its scent as it ripples over her tongue

Energy coursing through her veins as she moves a second closer

to trapping her victim between her incisors.

LE Purse  ©

March 1st 2014

Hannah Gale

Fashion & lifestyle journalist

The blog of Luther M. Siler, Teacher/ Word-maker-dude/ Wanker for hire

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