In a world drowning in light—endless notifications, bright screens, curated feeds—blackout poetry feels like a deliberate act of refusal. It is not about adding more words to the noise. It is about subtraction. About taking something already full of language and carving away everything except what matters. The result is raw, accidental, intimate—a poem born from darkness rather than inspiration.
Blackout poetry (also called redaction poetry) is deceptively simple: take an existing page of text (a newspaper, book page, old letter, or discarded printout), cover most of it in black ink or marker, and leave only the words that form a new poem. What remains is usually short, stark, and strangely haunting. The black is not the background; it is the co-author.
In late February 2026, when many of us feel over-saturated with content and under-connected to our own inner voice, blackout poetry has quietly become a small but powerful creative ritual. It requires no special tools, no "talent", no blank-page anxiety—just a willingness to destroy in order to create.
The Origins & Evolution
The practice has roots in Dada and Surrealism (early 20th century), where artists like Tristan Tzara and André Breton used chance operations and found text to disrupt conventional meaning. But blackout poetry as we know it today crystallised in the early 2000s with Austin Kleon’s newspaper blackout poems (published in his 2010 book Newspaper Blackout). Kleon’s work—witty, political, melancholic—proved that powerful poetry could be made by obscuring rather than inventing.
Since then the form has spread through classrooms, therapy groups, zine culture, Instagram, TikTok, and even corporate creativity workshops. In 2026 it feels newly relevant: a way to reclaim agency in a time when so much language feels algorithmically generated, manipulative, or simply too much.
Why Blackout Poetry Resonates in 2026
- It fights content overload — instead of producing more text, you reduce. It is anti-scroll, anti-overshare, and anti-productivity-hustle.
- It embraces imperfection — the poem is made from what’s already there. No blank-page paralysis. No fear of “ruining” a perfect first draft.
- It is deeply therapeutic — therapists and trauma-informed facilitators use blackout poetry to help people process grief, anxiety, or trauma by redacting what hurts and keeping what heals.
- It is anti-perfectionist — the black marker covers mistakes. There is no erasing. Only covering and moving forward.
- It is democratic — anyone with a marker and discarded paper can do it. No expensive supplies. No gatekeepers.
How to Make Blackout Poetry (Step-by-Step)
What you need
- A page of text (newspaper, old book, junk mail, printed article, page from a novel you no longer want)
- Black permanent marker (wide chisel tip works best)
- Optional: colored markers, white gel pen, correction tape (for subtle additions)
- A flat surface and good light
The process
- Read without agenda — skim the page quickly. Don’t hunt for meaning yet. Let your eyes drift.
- Feel the first pull — Notice a word, phrase, or emotion that tugs at you. Circle it lightly in pencil if you want.
- Build intuitively—look for words that connect to the first one—emotionally, rhythmically, visually. Ignore grammar. Follow feeling.
- Redact ruthlessly — Black out everything that does not serve the emerging poem. Be bold. Cover whole paragraphs. The more you remove, the stronger what remains usually becomes.
- Refine (optional) — Step back. Read aloud. Black out more if needed. Add tiny white-pen accents or coloured underlines if it feels right.
- Title or leave untitled — Some poems need a title. Many don’t. Trust your instinct.
Common techniques & effects
- Word clusters — Let words sit close together to create new phrases.
- Diagonal or scattered layouts break linear reading and force the eye to wander.
- Visible blackout — Let the marker strokes show → the obliteration becomes part of the art.
- Layered redactions — Use different black markers or cross-hatching for texture.
- Found titles — Pull the title from the same page (often the most powerful part).
Why Blackout Poetry Feels Healing & Liberating
- It teaches non-attachment — you must destroy to create.
- It mirrors grief & letting go — covering is a form of release.
- It quiets perfectionism — mistakes are hidden, not fixed.
- It reclaims language — you take someone else’s words and make them yours.
- It is meditative — the repetitive act of colouring is soothing, almost trance-like.
In 2026 many therapists, writing groups, and wellness spaces use blackout poetry for anxiety, burnout, trauma processing, and creative blocks. It is low-pressure, high-reward—a way to make art when words feel impossible.
Blackout Poetry in 2026 Culture
- Social media — #BlackoutPoetry TikTok/Instagram Reels are often set to lo-fi beats or ambient soundscapes.
- Zine culture — Photocopied zines made entirely of blackout poems from discarded textbooks or newsprint.
- Activism & protest — Redacted government documents turned into poems about surveillance, censorship, and loss.
- Therapeutic & educational use — Used in schools, prisons, grief groups, and corporate burnout workshops.
Blackout poetry reminds us that creation does not always mean addition. Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is cross out. Cover. Silence the excess.
And in that silence, something true begins to speak.
Have you ever tried blackout poetry? Or is there a page—a book, article, letter—you’ve always wanted to black out and see what remains? 🖤