POEM NOVEMBER 17TH 2021

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I Come From


I come from shepherd’s pie and Sunday roast

Jerk chicken and stuffed vine leaves

I come from travelling through my taste buds but loving where I live


I come from a home that some would call broken

I come from D.I.Y. that never got done

I come from waiting by the phone for him to call


I come from waving the white flag to loneliness

I come from the rainbow flag and the union jack

I come from a British passport and an ever-ready suitcase


I come from jet fuel and fresh coconut water

I come from crossing oceans to find myself

I come from deep issues and shallow solutions


I come from a limited vocabulary but an unrestricted imagination

I come from a decent education and a marvellous mother

I come from being given permission to dream but choosing to wake up instead


I come from wherever I lay my head

I come from unanswered questions and unread books

Unnoticed effort and undelivered apologies and thanks


I come from who I trust and who I have left

I come from last year and last year and I don’t notice how I’ve changed

I come from looking in the mirror and looking online to find myself


I come from stories, myths, legends and folk tales

I come from lullabies and pop songs, Hip Hop and poetry

I come from griots, grandmothers and her-story tellers


I come from shepherd’s pie and Sunday roast

Jerk chicken and stuffed vine leaves

I come from travelling through my taste buds but loving where I live


I come from a home that some would call broken

I come from D.I.Y. that never got done

I come from waiting by the phone for him to call


I come from waving the white flag to loneliness

I come from the rainbow flag and the union jack

I come from a British passport and an ever-ready suitcase


I come from jet fuel and fresh coconut water

I come from crossing oceans to find myself

I come from deep issues and shallow solutions


I come from a limited vocabulary but an unrestricted imagination

I come from a decent education and a marvellous mother

I come from being given permission to dream but choosing to wake up instead


I come from wherever I lay my head

I come from unanswered questions and unread books

Unnoticed effort and undelivered apologies and thanks


I come from who I trust and who I have left

I come from last year and last year and I don’t notice how I’ve changed

I come from looking in the mirror and looking online to find myself


I come from stories, myths, legends and folk tales

I come from lullabies and pop songs, Hip Hop and poetry

I come from griots, grandmothers and her-story tellers


I come from published words and strangers’ smiles

I come from my own pen but I see people torn apart like paper

Each a story or poem that never made it into a book.


DEAN ATTA

Published in 2013


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