Shedding Skin


The past few weeks and months have been a time of change and moving forward for me. And, like a lot of ‘learning experiences’ it has been one hell of a hike. Everything seemed to be building up to something, with the pile getting taller and wider each day, emotional baggage spilling out from every angle. I haven’t been alone in this, I’ve been going through it with someone, but sometimes that doesn’t make it any easier, sometimes it just makes it harder on both of you.

The something it was building up to was last week; a week so terrible I don’t have the strength to talk about it just yet for fear of reliving the anxieties it brought. The  mountain’s growth has meant that those I love have been kept on the edges of my life despite messages of love and simple conversation. So, this poem is dedicated to you all of those people who’ve reached out in friendship and love over the past 3 months and have been disappointed or upset in my lack of a response. If you’ve tried to call, text or email me and I’ve not got back to you for days or even at all please don’t take it personally; my life has been on a chaotic rise with no end in sight, until now.

Hopefully you’ll be pleased to know that this mountain’s emergence over the weeks and months of this year, that culminated in something that only dynamite can tackle, is slowly subsiding, crumbling into piles of rocks and soil as the sun sets on last week. Thank you to everyone who has shown patience and care, especially those who have allowed me to get in touch on my own terms and just listened.

Hope you enjoy this short I wrote last night to mark the start of a new week and the dismantling of a mountain:

Shedding Skin
and step outside
                              of your mind
Look at it from a new view
and make sure you handle with care.
Shed the layer of grime
that emotional exhaustion leaves behind;
Shed and begin anew.

© LE Purse
18th October 2015

Remembering how to strike a match


Tonight’s short is all about shuffling your life’s memories around and putting them in order to allow you to function in everyday life. It’s about taking the time you need to do that and how there’s no shame in putting yourself first to get your life in order.

Hope you enjoy:

Paper Flames
Slow walking
Fast paced talking
Take your own hand
and see how far it will take you
Sift through the filed
away paper memories
to find the ones that
need a match and some gas.

©LE Purse
Wednesday 2nd September

Image from here.

Pure Artistic Vision


This short was inspired by a friend I went to uni with and doesn’t know quite how good she is at her ‘art’.

Hope you enjoy:

artistic vision

When an artist sees
their creation through
the eye of a kaleidoscope
their intentions
are purer than
the cherry blossom’s
first twist
into the sunshine.

© LE Purse
27th August 2015

Growing up: Part 2


Here’s the second installment of the three parter I’ve got going on about growing up.

This poem is about having a nostalgic, irrational feeling of fear. As a child late at night and lying in bed the darkness and unknown sounds can quickly develop into a whole scene of nightmarish quality. I’m not embarrassed to say this happened to me during this week and whilst I was scared in my sleepy state, it threw me back to childhood and I had to write about it before I could get back to my pillow and close my eyes again.

The curtains sigh
with the wind rippling in violent waves
As the cawing begins the child within me grasps at the quilt
Reason takes over
my mind draws a foxes face
upon the blue fabric
Followed by the tiptoeing
of raindrop feet
on the metal of the scaffolding
My throat tightens
as my heart makes a leap for it
nothing there yet I retreat under the covers.

© LE Purse
3rd August 2015

Growing Up: Part 1


A couple of weekends ago I went to The Secret Garden Party, a festival in Cambridgeshire. The theme of the festival was childhood and all the fun that it should come with. I don’t know whether that inspired me but festival hedonism mixed in with dance offs and races with the 6 year old king of the festival, being dressed as a glittery pink unicorn, and dancing like nobody is watching sure helps the topic of “growing up” stay on your mind.

I have three poems which I’d like to share and will introduce with three different posts (so you don’t get too bored of my waffle and can pick the ones that you fancy reading the most).

The first is about how my personal experimenting of my own sexuality used to make me feel and how I feel about it now. I was unsure about sharing this poem but this is my safe place, strangely, to share my demons and release my thoughts into the world. Plus I had two conversations with two incredible women who made me realised that 1. By sharing this someone may be able to relate, and 2. Your relationship past, extensive, minimal, heart breaking, foolish, is your history that makes up how you are able to be with who you are in a relationship with today. And whilst I know this is true, letting go of those people and how I felt when I was with them/loved them/liked them from afar and accepting yourself and your mistakes from every age is so important. So, here goes nothing!

This poem doesn’t contain sexually explicit language but rather sexual suggestiveness and a couple of swear words.

To the adolescent/young adult me

To all the Mr’s whose sheets I lay wrapped up in after and felt much less than I was;

To all the Misses whom I laid upon my kisses but didn’t tell you truthfully that you made my blood flow and toes curl;

To all those whom I chased and tried to embrace but instead just made a fool of myself in front of;

To all those whom I used to regret not playing it cool or being at one with me;

– thank you.

Thank you for letting me act immature by adding fuel to the fire by burning up all desire;

Thank you for putting up with all my bullshit and the way I used to let my eyes flit;

Thank you for helping me become the who I am today

– not quite as unsure and able to give those I love a fuck ton more.

© LE Purse
June 2015

For Katie and Peter


One of my loveliest, most kind hearted and beautiful friend’s got married to the love of her life this weekend and I was privileged to not only attend but write the following poem at their request.

I won’t explain it as I hope it says enough, enjoy:

Painting Paradise

For Kate and Peter:

love is: 
the making of two people,
of two souls colliding,
of two minds mesmerised

love is:
colours blending and blurring,
fine brush strokes and deep cut welts

love is: 
the air bubbles captured, once released,
and the slender bristle preserved in flight

love is:
the wrong shade of yellow,
and the right shade of blue

love is:
the vast landscape to be sketched,
and the complex portrait to be inked

love is:
his handprint on her heart,
and her footprint next to his

love is: 
her bags eagerly packed,
and his warm arms opened

love is: 
the Weymouth waves,
and the Anglesey storms

love is: 
the Burghead tides,
and the Luskentyre sands

love is:
and yours alone to paint

love is:
the Paradise our hearts sing for.

©LE Purse
June/July 2015

Sheltering Hearts


Just wanted to share this poem before I slip off to sleep tonight. It was inspired by a friend and a little bird who sits outside my bedroom window most days.

Hope you enjoy it:

Bird of Mine

Today she came and sat upon my branches to sing a mournful tune
With Her feathers ablaze
         Her heart beating softly
         Her tiny claws curled round.
She set my leaves alight with sorrow
and my bark aflame with fright
But her tune stayed strong and nought could steal away her melodies not even the early summer breeze.

Wednesday 10th June
©LE Purse

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