am i a poet or not?

i see a thousand different ways to write a poem but I don't take advantage of my abilities as a writer, a poet. I guess since I am 47 I feel I am too old and washed up; I feel like I can't overcome the handicaps I face. I don't think so positively about my future, either. It's not that I don't want a future--I do very much. I want to live a colorful, vibrant, interesting, vocabulary filled life. I want to settle into a love with the figure I wrote about once in my chopping wood man poem. But those seem like dreams. I watch the Olympic athletes and marvel at their wherewithal, courage, their ability to push themselves to physical and mental limits and then even beyond that to fulfull their wildest dreams. I wish I could reach that kind of potential. I wish I could fulfill even half my potential. I can bake a nice lasagna, some excellent chocolate chip with pecans and walnuts cookies and I can be a friend to several people who seem to need me, but I don't seem capable--or is it just as Peter Wodarz once said? Am I just lazy? Am I too mentally ill? Is there hope for my situation? so that one time i could sit down with the pen and the poem would craft itself and then find its way to a bunch of readers instead of being put into hiding.I want to eat the fire of Pablo Neruda love poems and then drink green tea. That's all the energy I can muster for now.