Am I A Poet?

Am I a poet?
I ask myself.
As words from my pen, vomit upon a crisp, white page.
Like pigeons flocking for crumbs
amongst the cracked paving slabs.
So i search for hidden meanings
In those words.
And find,
Only wonder.
Confusion,
And doubt.
Am I a poet?
The question presumes I know one important thing.
That I know what a poet is.
What a poet does.
What a poet is for.
My pen stumbles through brambles that catch,
and tear the meaning apart.
Leaving strands of tattered thought behind them,
wisps of coloured wool.
Snapping in a flickering wind.
Leaving only this moment to fall,
forlornly on the page.
The rest:
Lost.
forgotten.
Washed away, and dissolved in the humdrum of the every day.
Am I a poet?
But this is not the question that needs an answer.
Is this, a poem?
And that is not for me to decide.
Is it?

#napowrimo15 http://www.napowrimo.net/

Say Owt Slam 4 https://www.facebook.com/sayowtslam is back on 19th May and I have agreed to give it a go. So as well as trying to write a poem a day, I have to find something to say for then.
But really, I am wetting myself just thinking about standing up and having others score my attempts, and I have too much time to think it over. I am always better doing things off the cuff.

And sat owt slam 3 was beyond amazing. So many talented folk to tickle my mind with thoughtful insightful and funny prose and poems, I know I have a lot to live up to.

Ok, OK it is only my own expectations that make my heart thump madly, when ever I think about strutting my stuff on a stage, my voice echoing oddly in my ears as lights blind my already watering eyes but I am looking forward to it.

At least I think so.

Thank you for reading. xx