Monday, February 13, 2012

Blackout Poetry - The Truth is Coming

Since I had so much fun with my blackout poem "Unsung Songs," I decided to try another one. I used  the same page (250) of the same book Memnoch the Devil by Anne Rice that I used for "Unsong Songs." I wanted to see if I could get a completely different poem using the same material. However, I didn't realize I'd have a more difficult time creating my poem "The Truth is Coming." Also, since I couldn't get punctuation where I needed it, the poem may not read well based off just the page of blackout, so I again will rewrite the poem after the picture to show how I saw it in my mind.

The Truth is Coming

By Candace Shultz

The Devil can blind or dazzle,
So never get far from the light of Heaven
And God will appear to you and fill you with virtue.

The truth is coming.

To the devoted,
As you rise to Heaven, fall silent,
For when you're dead you'll hear the song.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Blackout Poetry - Unsung Songs

Inspired by a swap at, I decided to try blackout poetry for the first time. In this type of poetry, you black out words in a newspaper article (or more than one article on a page) or on the page of a book (best to photocopy the page so the book doesn't get ruined), leaving behind only the words you chose to form a poem. I selected the book Memnoch the Devil by Anne Rice (the fifth novel in her Vampire Chronicles series) for my first blackout poem. I opened the book to page 250, scanned it into my computer, and began my journey into a new realm of poetry (at least for myself).

As a quick side note before I share my poem, I found it best to black out the words on the computer using an image editor (since it scanned as a jpeg) rather than print the page out and black out words with a permanent marker or pen. My headache can attest to the mistake of using marker.

Unsung Songs

By Candace Shultz

When I am angry, I will say nothing.
They do not ask my point of view.
These men are not so clever.
I see much.
I understand.
But they rise continuously.
My songs fall silent
For my kind are dead.