Blah, blah, blah ..... I ramble

This is such a weird space.

Every day I convince myself that poetry holds no future for me, beyond merely an expression of passion, and nearly every day something happens that creates doubt as to whether I should flee the Word without looking back once or keep on keeping on.

Often, I feel constrained by the borders of my small world, truly believing that there is more to this and that I have more to offer to a wider space. It is the inability to break beyond the bars of this self-infliced cage that frustrates me, has me questioning, has me disillusioned. Am I silly to believe that one can build a career as a poet? Am I wishful to think that I can establish myself as a poet? Is there a future in being a poet? Do I have what it takes? Is my work worth it? Do I have potential to grow, evolve and establish a legacy?

Ah, the questions.

I wonder whether I blog to expand my reach as a brand or to express and share with my fellow beings. All I ever seem to do in this space is question.

Ah, the questions.

Anyway, my poetic journey continues. Next week Saturday at Xarra Books in Newtown, Joburg, I shall be performing a selection of my poetry. Every weekend (almost), they feature a poet, provide an opportunity for the audience to ask questions, and have the poet shares their thoughts on whatever.

As to what I will talk about, share or even offer to whatever humble audience may arrive is as unknown to me as it is to you. I have reached a point where I find comfort in entering a 'poetic' space without a plan. Without intention other than sharing. At some stage I became a 'performance poet', meaning I spend weeks on end memorising poems, agonising about the writing, worrying that the audience won't feel me, etc, etc.

Now I work with what I have. I work off the page when I don't remember the words. I am finding a new respect for Words on a page and I am humbled when it is my Words I speak. Sometimes I speak other people's Words because, at that moment, they are more appropriate than mine. When I am in a space of sharing, I do just that. I do not 'perform', I am not a 'spoken word artist' or a 'performance poet'. I am just another human being defined as poet.

There are moments when I 'perform' and I am a 'spoken word artist'. That is when someone is paying me to be one. That is when someone seeks a novelty and I provide. That is when I am playing a part and I am no longer, for that moment, Kojo, but rather 'Kojo the Poet'. I am learning to be comfortable with that. I am learning that, as a human being, I deserve to be as comfortable and as happy as the next person. To dream of perfection as an artist does not imply a comfort with poverty or suffering.

Damn, that is a long post. Typing on my Blackberry, while convenient and easily done, does make it harder to truly speak. This is a moment of unhindered verbal vomit. See my other blog: http://imperfectpoetry.blogspot.com. Today I seem to be caught up in moments.