Blackout Poetry Anniversary

 

Yesterday was my three-year blackout poetry anniversary.

Since June 2, 2021,

Heidi the Librarian and I have each written over 1000 blackout poems,

Completing 20 books while working on our 21st,

Covering modern fiction, science fiction, adolescent fiction, autobiography, lovelorn classics, horror classics, political documents, and books compiled specifically for blackout poetry—including one made just for us!

 

Three years ago, Heidi was searching for inspirational quotes

When she came across the image of a blackout poem.

She immediately knew that she wanted to try it.

And that’s what started it all.

She had some copies of Anne of Green Gables that were in disrepair,

So we started with those.

She walked into my room that Wednesday,

And asked if I wanted to write a blackout poem with her.

She said, “We’ll each write a poem and then compare them.”

I remember thinking, “We’re probably going to come up with the same poem.

There aren’t that many options on the page.”

But, oh, how many options there are!

In all our years and writings,

We have only written one identical poem!

 

The words on the page become the word bank.

The experiences that we bring provide the lens through which we read the words.

We each slow down,

Sometimes for 30 minutes to an hour,

Read the text,

Focus on something beyond our immediate concerns,

Open ourselves to what I believe is the Spirit,

Listen for what message lies on the page,

And then transform what’s obvious into something new.

 

I don’t know how long we will continue with this discipline,

But I don’t plan to stop any time soon.

As dramatic as it sounds,

I feel like blackout poetry is making me a better person

By causing me to see things from different perspectives,

And reminding me that there is always more to a story,

Two people may read the exact same text and

Hear completely different messages.

Isn’t that how it is with scripture?

And shouldn’t we all be open to the Spirit’s leading?

 

I will close this anniversary celebration 

By sharing my June 2 poems.

 

May each of us find a discipline that is meaningful for our lives,

And then may we each engage it with purpose and intention,

Seeing where it leads.

 

Amen.

 

----

 

From Anne of Green Gables, June 2, 2021

 

His tongue,

abstracted,

unswervingly and unseeingly,

nervous,

uncomfortable,

odd,

unaccountable.

That was Matthew’s way.

Silence persistency.

I’ve had so much experience at that.

What’s to be done?

Matthew is a most ridiculous man.

I think he’s lovely.

Sympathetic.

I felt that he was a kindred spirit as soon as I ever saw him.

 

----

 

From Blackout Poetry Journal: June 2, 2022

 

Give

it

all

to

the Light.

 

----

 

From Blackout Poetry Journal (A Creative Writing Journal): June 2, 2023

 

The moment is near

But I am a coward,

And shame pursues me.

 

----

 

From Passover Haggadah: June 2, 2024

 

I am

A leader

From the middle.

Enough

 

Last Sunday afternoon, as I sat down to see what the day’s page of “The Little Prince” had to say to me,

I wondered if the message was going to be autobiographical or if it was going to be fiction.

On Friday night, a scathing fictional poem had emerged.

It said:

“You complain and boast

But your heart is empty.

You’re nothing to me.”

I commented to my writing partner, Heidi-The-Librarian, that I hoped I’d never actually have to say those words to anyone!

 

As I reflected on Sunday’s text and let the words float around in my brain,

A poem emerged that is loosely based on life experience.

It said:

“My friend told me that

I, myself, am enough.

I didn’t understand

But I answered, ‘Yes, of course.’

‘You’re beautiful, too,’ (he said).

This time, I said nothing.

And we sat in silence.”

 

Many years ago, Jenny-The-Counselor told me that I was enough,

But I wasn’t healthy enough to understand what she meant.

Having grown up in a faith tradition that taught me that I was nothing but a sinner saved by grace,

I internalized the sinner part of the equation so much that I made damning myself a regular part of my existence.

I always thought that I needed to be and do more.

I didn’t fully understand that I, as a child of God, created in God’s image, saved by God’s love that overcome all darkness and death, was enough.

I didn’t fully understand God’s amazing grace.

 

While I get it now,

It’s still a mind-boggling concept—

This concept of being enough.

And it’s also a mind-boggling concept to think of beauty

As someone who has absolutely no beauty regimen

Other than showering and brushing my teeth :-p.

But beauty is there, too,

As God’s beloved child.

Beauty is something we see as well as something that we feel,

But it’s not something that I talk about much.

 

And so I sit in silence,

Letting “enough,” and “grace,” and “beauty,”

Sink in.

 

Dear God: Speak to us in the silence. Speak words that we need to hear. Let your truths sink in. And let that be enough. Amen.

Enough

 

I am not satisfied, but I am enough. 

 

When that statement appeared on my blackout poem page yesterday, I knew that something profound had emerged. 

 

There is a restlessness in modern America society that wants us to be more: more wealthy, more beautiful, more successful, to have more likes. 

 

There is this feeling in modern American Christianity that we should never be content. I have even heard it said that when we are content in our relationship with God then we are complacent. That we need to do something different to get ourselves out of comfort. That we need to take a leap of faith.

 

I’m coming to believe that both of these sentiments are wrong.

 

When we constantly strive for more, there is a sense of urgency and competition that creates unneeded stress.

 

When we do not feel that we can be content with God, there is a sense of restlessness and damnation that leads to wonder why we should even try to please a God who cannot be pleased. 

 

No, we do not want to be apathetic about our lives. But we also don’t want to be so ill-at-ease that we cannot find peace. 

 

And so. We must realize that we, at our core, through the love and grace of Jesus Christ, are enough.

 

Yes, there is room to grow. There will always be room to grow. But when we think of life as an organic process that happens naturally in time, then it changes the urgency and competition and restlessness and damnation, and turns them into something beautiful. Like a plant growing its flowers. Natural. Gradual. Steady.

 

Yes, there is room for a deepening understanding of the Love of God and how that Love transforms us. There is room to grow in the fruits of the spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faifhfulness, gentleness, and self-control) and there is room to grow in our understanding of justice and mercy. 

 

But even if we don’t. Even if we stay as we are, doing the best we can with what we have, then we are still enough. 

 

We are still created in the image of God, redeemed by the life and death of Jesus Christ, and so very, very loved as God’s child. 

 

Even Judas. 

 

Even Peter. 

 

Even me. 

 

I am not satisfied, but I am enough. 

 

Amen.

The HeART of Healing

 

A couple of weeks ago,

I had the opportunity to lead a grief support group for a friend.

I was part of a series called the heART of Healing.

Since the event was during my weeks of no voice,

And since my main gig is music,

I had to think of something different to do…

So, I thought, why not blackout poetry?

After all, it HAS become my spiritual discipline.

 

Nervous to undertake the activity with a group,

I did my best to explain it.

In short, I said:

Think of the page’s words as your word bank.

You can keep the words in order in true blackout style,

Or you can use the words out of order and draw connecting lines in modified blackout style.

It’s up to you.

Just sit with the words and see what comes.

 

And they did.

 

And what came, I later found out, was beautiful.

 

One woman wrote and shared a poem about her grandson who died by suicide a year ago.

She doesn’t talk much about it.

It’s too hard.

But she found words on the page to express a bit of her grief.

She read aloud…

“That I could hug you one more time.”

 

Another woman saw only one phrase on the page.

She tried and tried to find something more,

But all she could see was…

“I couldn’t quit sobbing.”

In those words, she saw a reflection of her reality,

And she realized she needed help.

Uncontrolled depression had overwhelmed her.

She was drowning in her own tears but she didn’t realize it until

She saw it on the page.

She is now getting help.

 

And a man, a poet and musician,

Suffering from bi-polar disorder,

Who hadn’t really left his house in a month—

For whatever reason, came to the session.

He had never heard of blackout poetry,

Yet he connected with it and found a life-giving outlet.

 

Friends: I know that blackout poetry isn’t for everyone.

And that’s fine.

Blackout poetry isn’t really the point.

Creating is the point:

Working with God to express a thought, feeling, emotion, or reaction—

Working with God to make something not made before.

Poetry, song, fiction, blog, cross-stitch, crochet, knitting, macrame,

Watercolor, acrylic, pen, ink, tin, a coloring sheet, a garden…

Creating is a process.

It is healing and transformative.

Not everything will be a masterpiece.

But everything will be good.

Because you will have created with God,

Who called God’s creation good.

 

Oh God of Creation: Help us to create alongside you. And thank you for the heART of healing. Amen.