Poetic Innocence

I've had a renewed fascination with poetry lately, and I think I attribute it to Rylan. His newly emerging sense of language is so beautiful. I love listening to the way he explain things with his simple, limited vocabulary. For example the other day when I was cooking dinner and the pot was boiling, he told me it was "jumping at the lid". Isn't that simple, direct and fresh? Everything a poem should be. It made me want to write a sweet, simple poem, a haiku or something like that.

Or the other day, we were looking at a painting of a city with a black skyline jutting into the white sky. He said, "Look, Mom, music!" I didn't know what he was talking about at first, but then I realized the buildings looked like the black keys of a piano, nestled in the white. That concept could fuel a poem.

I told someone in my family the other day that I wanted to write a series of poems using some of his phrases. They laughed, but I was serious. I've already started writing them.

In fact, if I ever post a random poem on here, with a portion in italics, the italics was Rylan. Maybe I should cite both of us as the authors. The only difference is, his brilliance is simple and effortless.

What I learned from Rylan about writing poems:
Sometimes limitations spur creativity.

What I'd like to try:
Find a way to limit my vocabulary so I can try to grasp at his fresh interpretations. Maybe just use one letter of the alphabet for all my verbs, another for nouns, and so on. Not only would that stretch my interpretations, but the ringing around of the same letters could be fun sounding, too.
Hmmm. At least for an exercise, that would be fun.