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Welcome to the New Books Network.
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My God's been silent since the winter I stopped praying not out of rebellion, but exhaustion. There is only so long a throat can stay hoarse from begging. I tried lit candles, notebooks full of psalms scribbled with trembling hands, Built altars out of my mother's grief and dared them to shine. But the heavens were mute. Even the stars turned their backs when I wept in their direction. What kind of father doesn't answer when his child is breaking? I wanted to believe suffering had a purpose, that maybe my morning was music in a different key. But all I heard was the wind mocking my hope. They told me faith is the substance of all things hoped for. But they never said what to do when the hope is gone. I have buried too many prayers with names attached, each one a body I wasn't ready to lose. And yet I still speak to the silence, still wait like the prodigal son's shadow, still wonder if absence is a kind of answer. The title poem from My God's Been Silent, by poet and scholar Dr. Darius Phelps. Darius, welcome to the New Books Network.
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Thanks for having me, my friend. Honored to be here.
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So this is your debut collection. How does it feel? How does it feel? How does it feel?
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I didn't think we would ever get here. Even having it in my hands and having my auto copies, I'm like, is this really real? It's like the first thing I look at when I wake up. It's just like, oh, I did that. Yeah.
B
How long was this collection in the making?
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Unintentionally, I would say 13 years, you know, But I would say knowing that it was going to be a collection. This is 2026. Well, I. I wrapped it up last year, so I would say two years. Two years. Seriously? Yeah.
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I got this sense that, well, okay, I'm going to ask the question I was just about to ask, but then I'm going to sort of like, maybe, I don't know, trouble. The question I was going to ask before I ask it, I was going to ask is. I got this. I was going to say I got the sense that the Darius who wrote the collection, or at least the Darius that wrote some of the poems in the collection, is a different Darius than maybe the Darius that's getting ready to launch it. But that also presumes that the speaker in the collection is Darius, which for a poet, I mean, for a poetry collection like that may not be.
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It's true. That's true. I think for me, you know me pretty well by now. I Have no problem with it telling the truth. Yeah, the speaker is me. It's always me. I think for me, poetry is so intimate. It's like prayer almost to me. And I think it's important for me to share my story and to have that open honesty and that intimacy with my readers or the listeners to know that, hey, this is his story. He went through this. So all 44 poems, all 10 arcs, that speakers me. Yeah, I have no problem with admitting that. I think for me, that's part of me healing my inner child and looking back over a certain timeframe in my life and looking back and being like, okay, I've healed from this. I think I really also was talking to one of my close friends, Ari Villanueva, a few months ago and we were talking about this book coming out and I was like, you know, I look at these poems and I don't feel the certain way that I felt with writing them. And I was like, well, damn. I think that means that I've healed in a sense without really even realizing it.
B
You said something interesting there. You said the 10 arcs. Because this poem is divided up into. I would have 10 set. 10 sections. You said 10 arcs. Talk about the 10 arcs.
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Yeah, for me, it was just. I really started writing some of these poems. Of course they've, they've. I was going to say mutualized. Like they were like Teenage Ninja Mutant Turtles or something. They've evolved. See what you know are now 44 poems. And really the meat of this is like, I lost my grandfather in 2013 and he was like my, of course, my grandfather, my best friend, but he was like the only father figure I had in my life because I grew up in a single parent home, which there are trinkets of that in this book as well. And he died in 2013 and I feel like I had. Not that I feel. I know I grieved him for a good solid 10 years. That it wasn't until about 2023 that I was able to like look back at the 10 year mark of his death and be like, I can finally celebrate this. I can finally look back and only feel good things and focus on the good memories. And I don't think about all that he went through the last few years of his life and how he, you know, how he died because he died in my arms. And that's one thing that kind of like inspired laugh, this collection. So that's why it's told in like 10 sections or 10 arcs. I just think of it so really, like, it's like, character development. And I want to be really specific to when I name the arcs, because they do flow a certain way. And it starts one place and it takes you to, like, another whole two, three different places throughout this story. And I want it to be unapologetically me.
B
Talk about the. Maybe the ordering of the poems, like, your process, because I'm curious. When did you know? When did you know that there were 10 arcs in this poem, in this collection? Like, when did you talk about that discovery?
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It was organic. Honestly, it wasn't something that I planned. Like, my writing process is so non traditional. I started most of my poems out, like, on my notes app, on my phone. I could be, like, in the shower. Most of my stuff comes to me when I'm moving. So, like, on a walk or listening to certain things, and I was just writing, writing, writing. And then when I started to really piece things together and I was like, oh, you know, this is a little grief heavy. Let's divide that up. But I didn't have to do too much tweaking. I think it's just my natural writing process. It's just like, as I wrote these poems, they. The order didn't change. There are a few poems that have been scrapped because originally it was like 60. I don't know why I was so fixated on that number. But then I end up narrowing down to 44. And just the order they were in, they were written in, kind of just flowing out. So I was like, oh, what are these poems saying to me? And how could I divide them to where this is like a stopping point for, like, a certain event and it turns into a different period or a different kind of pain or emotional. You know, there's even love sprinkled in here, but not that much. I want it to flow organically like it happened in my life. And when I started looking back at certain sections and that's when I started, like, you know, of course you print them out and put them all over the floor. And I'm like, this feels like many projects in one big project. So, like, what would I call this particular time period in my life? And that's like, one of the ones is like, my Hallelujah has Teeth, which is like a really gritty section. And then there's the soil still smells like suffering, which kind of goes back to me talking about the place that I grew up in and how that still lingers with me. Like, even revisiting that place, I can still feel and smell like the suffering that I went through all those years. So I want to just keep it just as organic as possible. But I also thought of thinking it like a album, like, if I were making a actual album. There's a lot of, like, musicality in my writing, in the way that I write. Just naturally, I feel like I'm a. I grew up in a musical household, so it's like it's embodied in me. I used to play the piano, the cello, the viola, and I'm always listening to music, so I feel like that just inspires the way that I write and the way that this book ended up being laid out.
B
You mentioned some of the section titles. I mean, between section titles and poem titles, you know, there's some. There's some banger. There's some bangers in there. From a title standpoint and a line standpoint. The collection begins with a prelude poem called God Forgives. I don't.
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I remember how I was feeling when I wrote that.
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Talk about that. Talk about that.
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I actually just posted that on Instagram last night as we're, like, part of the book countdown, because it comes out this Friday. I was just in my, like, angry, seething mood as me as a. As a Scorpio, as a water sign. Like, I. People, they're like, oh, you're so nice. You're so calm and quiet and, like, observant. Like. Yeah, but I'm also most of the time, like, pissed off. So, like, that's a side I really don't show too much, you know, unless I'm pushed to that. But I was just, like, thinking back of, like, all that I've been through in my life, and there's just sometimes you're like, you know, God forgives, but I don't. Like, I keep tabs. Like, I remember this happened to me. You did this to me. I was stabbed in the back. And I feel like a lot of what happened on my journey the last 10 to 13 years, yeah, there were some losses, but some of the things that I was, especially towards the end of this book, I was betrayed by, you know, few people I really didn't expect to be betrayed by. And that's where that poem kind of came from. It was like, damn, I really giving my all to these people and, you know, people I consider family that, you know, not my flesh and blood. And I was just, like, ruminating on that. I was like, damn, you know, I really need to let this go. And when I need to get a feeling out, I turned to the page and I was like, you know, God forgives that. I don't of course I, you know, do forgive people. You have to, you know, learn to let it go. But I keep my tabs, like, I'm not going to forget. And that's what inspired that poem. I was like, you know, God forgives. I don't, but, like, what does that feel look like to me? And that's where that poem came in and I think encapsulating the grieving process with this book. I wanted to start with, like, that pain, that anger you feel when you lose someone. And it's just like, no matter whether you saw it coming or not, you're angry. And that's why that prayer that was called God Forgives, I don't. But I want to make sure that ended it on a note that shows my healing, even though healing is not linear, which you get through this book. There's even the poem called the Slow Burn of Healing. But I want to end it on a positive note to show, like, I've carried out this pain. It's morphed me into the man that stands before you today. I've let go of a lot of the grieving and made my peace with little Darius and all the other sides of me that in between. But I want to end it on a note that shows, like, I can look back and celebrate. And that's why it ends with the epilogue, Living and Answered Prayers.
B
You said something interesting in. In there that I wanna. That I wanna touch on you. You said that. You said basically that people look. People that know your people look at you. See, like, you know, I know you and you and I know one another.
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We're.
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We're friends. You know, I've only ever seen, you know, you have a wonderful smile. You're one of those people that. Who's like, smile lights up the room. You know, I. I don't see you as someone who's like, necessarily brood, you know, someone who's brooding. And I should, to be fair, like, we're friends, but, like, we're not tight. Like, you know, you're not. You're not going to call me when you're like, having a bad day. Like, we're not that. Well, maybe you can. You can. But, like, you know, so we're not tight like that. So I want to make it like. Like I've seen you in your badness and goodness and why didn't I know this? We're not tight like that. But, like, you know, you're not someone who I think strikes one as, like, angry, brooding, you know, like one of those sort of Personalities. And from that standpoint, then the. Much of the tone of the collection feels very different than the Darius that I know. And I'm curious. I want you to talk to that, especially selfishly, because I think a lot of my poetry is the same way. Like, I don't write anything nice ever.
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Yeah, I did notice that with your work. I did.
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But I'm like. But I'm always happy. Like, I'm happy when you meet me. Like, it's a different. Feels like a very different person.
A
I mean, I feel like my. Yeah, I was. I was. Let me not pull prior partners into this. I was gonna say I have different sides. I feel like, you know, with being an educator and stuff to you, I feel like not just being an educator, being, like, the oldest of my siblings, it's only two of us, and just being the. Been through so much at a young age. I feel like it's. I've always kept things internal. Not many people know that. I used to draw before I ever started writing poetry. So I've always had, like, these heavy, dark emotions. And I think even looking from, like, my artwork from, like, four to eight was, like, really abstract and really dark. But I think I've always felt so much, and I feel like that's one thing I've learned of, like, also being an empath. You pick up other people's emotions and stuff, too. So, like, there are some days, because my mom and I are so close, like, I can wake up and be like, all right, this emotion doesn't feel like me. I call her, she'd be like, hey, I'm having a bad day. Da, da, da, da. And I'm like, damn. That's what I've been picking up on, you know, because our bond is so close. But I'm. I'm also an overthinker. I'm a chronic overthinker. Like, I'm always thinking, and I'm like, ah, should I have said that? And there's, like. I was even texting a friend, like, a few weeks ago. I was like, damn, you know, sorry for yapping. Blah, blah, blah, blah. And he just, like, ignored it because I'm like, that's me overthinking again. But I think about things, you know, Like, I read body language, tone, all that kind of stuff. Even when I'm in a room, like, I'm. I'm quiet. It's just. That's my natural personality. Don't know why I got into education. That's another story. But I, like. I brood a lot, and I think a lot of things are just, like, how people respond to certain things. I think because I'm a natural, I wouldn't. Spectator, I guess, would be the term I would use. I'm observer, you know, I don't want to sound like a creeper, but, yeah, I keep a lot of stuff inside, I think a lot of times, because I'm in situations, not just with work, but just my family and outside life is like, I'm always the leader or the one who is in charge or doing things. And with a lot of my writing, I don't ever have a time to, like, express myself verbally or when I do, because I do hold so much stuff, and it could come off as intense or too much, you know? So I. I put it into my writing. So a lot of what I feel, even when I can't name it, I put it to the page. And I think that's why it's so drastically different than how I carry myself on the outside, which is a compliment I. I take well, because I. I don't want. I try not to let people know when I'm hurting, because I'm so used to just, like, pushing to the side and, like, excuse my language, like, get shit done. Like, I make. Make this money. I've got to go to work. You know, there are days where I want to, like, literally bedrock, not talk to people for, like, 72 hours. But I got to get up, I got to do things, I got to teach, and life goes on. But I still had those feelings, and I got to get it out. And that's what this book was, especially with grieving. I had never lost someone that close to me before. So feeling all these emotions and then, like, being in my young 20s and then turning 30 and, like, falling in and out of love and meeting different people. And there's so much to unpack with that. And I did it all on my own, I think, really, like, even moving to New York. There's a poem in there called Mama, Don't Worry, which is one I probably won't ever read aloud because I can't get through without crying. But I remember I wrote that when I moved to New York, it was like I moved here on my own to get this PhD, and I had no friends, no family, the pandemic. And so I carry a lot of that internally. And I knew at a certain point I had to get it out because it was weighing me down so much. And I think that's where that voice came out at, because I really. We didn't edit anything with my voice or anything too strongly or too heavily. We just kind of kept it as organic as possible, which Shout out to Chi Won Choi. You know, who we met at Brooklyn Poets. I took a workshop with him, and that's what led to this book really coming full throttle.
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You mentioned before, I mean, you disclosed before, like, yeah, look, this is not a biographical collection. Do you think about. How do you think about Exposure?
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It's funny, I was talking to a good friend of mine. If you're not familiar with his work, he's phenomenal. Andrew Cheeky young, phenomenal poet. We had a conversation a few months ago about Exposure, and he and I write a lot of similar stuff about, like, home and longing and ourselves. And we were talking about, like, certain things that he and I both have that we know we have to face with our collections coming out. His collection comes out in spring of 2027 through the University of Pittsburgh Press. Phenomenal person, phenomenal poet. I got to a point where, like, I just don't give a shit. It's kind of just like, you know, if I'm gonna put it on the page eventually, I need to free myself. And these things I'm gonna have to eventually talk about now, to be transparent, like, I don't want my mom reading this collection. I, I, I think there are things that I went through that she would be heartbroken to know that I felt or experienced. There's some of the things she doesn't know, you know, about my life and my grieving process and things like, you know, I mentioned things about, like, Benadryl serving as, like, somewhat of an antidepressant for me because I have insomnia. And there was a point in my life where I was addicted to taking that stuff at night because I couldn't sleep. I still take it every now and then just to sleep, you know, but I, even now I'm like, ooh, you know, I don't want to fall back in that trap, but I feel like exposure is going to come out one way or the other. And I feel like it's better for it to come from me, from my mouth always. You know, I'd rather just be upfront about it, like, yeah, I went through this. Yeah, I love this person. Yeah, I felt this, or, yeah, I did this to this person. And this is what we went through. But I'd rather it be from me than hear some twisted version from someone else, you know, that now it's become like, this wildly spread rumor. Like, I rather own my truth. That's a part of me freeing myself and emancipation, emancipating my own self.
B
Will your mom read it?
A
I hope not. I hope not. I don't know.
B
Like, are you going to tell. Does she know about it?
A
She knows. She knows. I haven't, like, showed her the. My sister. I showed my sister the author copies or whatever, but my sister still doesn't know about the content. I don't want them to read it. They can read the next book, but I feel like this one is just too heavy. I'm hoping they wouldn't get through it. You know, I don't want to have questions like, oh, who is da da da da that you mentioned in page 72? But if the time comes, if they ever do read it, because, you know, she's slick. She may be like, oh, I saw. I googled you and this popped up and I bought the book, you know, first come to show we got to have the conversation. But I feel like still I, you know, I own it. You know, it's. It's my life ever since I started serving cut water canned cocktails to my guests. Hey.
B
Hi.
A
How are you? Yeah, going through. I've gone from host to hero. Thanks to cut Water, I can make real, perfectly mixed cocktails in seconds. It's as simple as garnishing a glass, cracking my can of cut water open and pouring it over ice. Cut water, real cocktails, perfectly mixed. Copyright 2025 Cut Water Spirit San Diego, California. Enjoy responsibly. This episode is brought to you by FX's Love Story. John F. Kennedy Jr. And Carolyn Bassette join host Evan Ross Katz on the Official podcast for FX's new series, Love Story. John F. Kennedy, Jr. And Carolyn Bessette. And go behind the scenes with cast and special guests featuring Sarah Pigeon, Paul Anthony Kelly, Grace Gummer and Naomi Watts. FX's Love Story. John F. Kennedy Jr. And Carolyn Bessette. Wherever you listen to podcasts, this episode.
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Is brought to you by Redfin. You're listening to a podcast, which means you're probably multitasking, maybe even scrolling home listings on Redfin, saving homes without expecting to get them. But Redfin isn't just built for endless browsing. It's built to help you find and own a home with agents who close twice as many deals. When you find the one, you've got a real shot at getting it. Get started@redfin.com. own the dream. I'm always, I'm fascinated. I think I'm asking, maybe it's not a craft question, but, you know, for. For Writers that write autobiographical things. So whatever the, whatever the genre, autobiographical things, I'm always so interested in how they navigate loved ones reactions to those things. And so, and, and I feel, you know, when you say, I don't know, I don't want to read it, but like, she might get savvy and sort of seek it out and find it. Like, part of me is so sad because I'm like, oh, I wish that your loved ones would be just like so excited about what you wrote that they would like, seek it out immediately and read it immediately. And I know that's not the case. Like, I know that's not the case.
A
It's, it's a hard pill to swallow. I mean, of course, you know, I think eventually I hope I reach a certain point in my career to where like, you know, I can celebrate this kind of stuff with them. But I just feel like this book is just so dark. I, you know, if they don't know about it, I'm fine with it. They do pick it up. I'm always ready to have the conversation. You know, there's some things we've talked about slowly, as in years of past, you know, like how we each experienced or went through certain things or especially, you know, my mom lost, lost her dad, you know, like, literally. And it's just we all experienced it differently and having that conversation. We've talked about it, but I don't think they have ever really read my poetry through and through. I think there's like one poem she found, house in the sky, that came out a few years ago. She somehow found that on her Instagram feed. We don't follow each other. And she texted me and she, like, sent a screenshot and she was like, oh, you really do love me. And I was like, oh, yeah, of course. But I also was like, how the hell did you find that? Let me go block you on Instagram. I just feel like I, I live, I've always lived a very private life. Like, people don't know, like, who I'm dating or where I live, blah, blah, blah, blah, what I do for work, you know, if it comes out with a public article or something, that's fine. But like, I, I, I'd like to keep certain boundaries. Um, but I feel like even with my family, I feel like, I just, I feel like I know it would break my, it would break my mother's heart to know just how heavy and how hard I grieved in different parts of my life. And she would feel guilt or shame for some of it. And I don't want her to feel that there's.
B
I. I feel like for me anyway, there's. Although, like, poetry can be so intimate. Intimate and honest, and yet there is an arm's length relationship with the reader that you don't necessarily get with the people who lived through it with you. That I don't know. For me it's more. It feels safer in some ways. Like a, like strangers reading the thing feels safer than people who were there.
A
Yeah, yeah. Because I feel like strangers, they're. They're more open minded when they hear or they read your poetry. But I feel like it's someone that you know intimately, like family members, they view it first from a certain lens and it's just like, no, no, no, that's not where you should be reading it from. You need to remove yourself from the situation. Don't come, you know, at this book or this poem with like guns blazing. Like, take yourself out of the equation and then just read it for what it is or what the poem is saying or speaking to you and then ask questions.
B
Yeah, I think that's hard for a lot of people.
A
Yeah. There's a poem in my second collection called My Sister Calls Me Broken. I didn't share with her the poem. I was just like, hey, trying to have start. Start those kind of conversations. I was like, hey, I wrote this poem from a day where you really kind of just like made me really sad. And like, it broke my heart and I cried. But I was like, I. This poem has been picked up. It's coming out, you know, in the spring. And I was like, I want you to know that I wrote about it and you're in the book. And she's still mad. She doesn't even know what the poem is about. She hasn't even read it, but she's still mad. Like, she still brings up like, oh, what are you going to write about today? Let me be nice to you. Blah, blah, blah. And I'm like, I don't need that kind of rigmarole in my life, man. You know? But I'm like, it's the truth. Like, we make each other mad, we make each other sad. That's part of life. It's part of relationships. It happens. No one's perfect. But it irritated me a little bit because, like, you want to be seen in his perfect light. And that's not what a sibling relationship is. You're seven years younger. I'm in my mid-30s. You're not even at 30. You know, like, it's. We've experienced different things. And for me to be able to write about it, like, I. At least you made the book be happy. I could have just, like, let it on the cutting room floor. But it's like. It's those kind of reactions that I like. I don't need unnecessary drama, you know? So, like, why seek out. I'm trying to heal. And she wants to go back and make it more of an issue, you know?
B
Yeah. I want to talk a little bit about. We talked about the structure of the book, but I also want to talk about the structure of the poems, like, how they appear on the page. Because most of the poems in this collection are very narrow. Like, they're very narrow on the page. Most left justified, but some center justified. Really short lines. Again, I think there was only one or two poems maybe that actually reached the width of the page. Most of them don't come close to the width of the page. And so you wind up with this large. Either a white space on the right margin or white space on both margins in between stanzas. Just talk about. Talk about the sort of visual structure of the poems in the collection.
A
I feel like my poems naturally dance across the page. Like, there's even. I think there's re. Spark the soul. That's always. That's, like, all the way on the right margin. And I wrote that in a workshop with Joan Kwong Glass. And I remember she was like, I love this. The fact that you pushed it all the way to the right gives it a different kind of, like, feeling to it. I don't intentionally plan these things. I just write what I. How I feel. Like if the emotion is heavy and it, like, comes in waves, it goes across the page like that. I try to write the way that I would read it aloud. So that's where a lot of those short line comes in. And I got to point to when I was doing my own editing. It's like, all right, well, how would this sound with me orally reciting this? Where does a poem need to breathe? Or there's some. There's a poem. I can't think of it right now, but there's one like the space between grief and love that's just straight top down. There's no line breaks because I wanted that show, that feeling, too. Like, I talk about the space, but there really is no space with those two emotions because they are so. Like, they're like twins. They're hand in hand. And I wanted to showcase that, too, with the way that I played around with form and craft. In these poems or, like, languishing, that one, like, goes on the page and then it comes back and it goes back, but it's still this very, like, tight space. And I just really want to just showcase what I feel. So even if you don't ever hear me read some of these poems from the way that they are printed, you can kind of get that feeling what I was feeling.
B
There's also a couple of poems that have whole lines or stanzas in Korean.
A
Yeah, you're probably like, what the hell? Where's that coming from? I took. I took Korean. I took Korean in college for, like, two or three years. I used to. Used to be able to speak it really fluently. But one of my biggest inspirations now, even just as a man of color, is the main rapper and writer and composer, Tablo from the group Epik High. I started listening to Epik High in middle school, and Tablo was one of the first people that ever openly came out saying that he had depression as a man of color. And I thought, I've been following his journey for, like, 20 plus years now. He's as a photo. I have a photo of him up in my bedroom as, like, inspiration. But he inspired me really to start writing about my own emotions in middle school. I think that's when I really seriously started writing poetry. But it's actually his lyrics that those lines in Korean are in. If I remember correctly, they're both taken from a solo album that he did a few years ago, like in the early 2000s. And that album saved my life, too. Going through a hard time. His work, whether as a soloist or as a group, I come back to it all the time. He's one of my biggest inspirations to this day. I think it's just so. The way that he shares his own pain, you know? And even now, like, it's a beautiful single journey. He's like a girl dad. And him talking about that and how has it impacted him as a man of color. But he writes a lot about grief and loss, and I feel like those lines out of those two songs. I think Airbag is one of the songs that I quoted. And there's another one that the title slips my mind. But those two songs that are quoted in those poems are songs that really got me through hard times. Yeah.
B
I didn't ask you this beforehand, but could you read a poem? Would you be willing to read one?
A
Absolutely. I actually have it tabbed because I have a reading next week. So I was like, what am I going to read? I keep Coming back to this poem, speaking of Benadryl. It's one of my favorite poems, and my mom comes up a lot in the book, of course, with it being autobiographical. She did really say this. So here's my Benadryl serves as an antidepressant. My mother says we should never beg for love but this isn't the first time I find myself on bloodied knees for you I take these pills to forget the life that God has bestowed upon his little miracle child me A miracle wrapped in a sinner's skin and trembling hands Hallelujah whispered between my breaths of sorrow I swallow sleep to silence the oldest church hymns I no longer believe in the gray fog comes with this promise of oblivion Softening the edges of a world that cuts the sharpest kitchen knife I build the finest cathedrals out of empty capsules Stack them like prayers I'm now too tired to sing My mother says we should never beg for love But I've learned it's the only way to remember how to feel.
B
Alive thank you for that. That was one of my favorites.
A
Oh, thank you. Yeah, I love that poem.
B
That's one of those.
A
I'm like, damn. I'm like, I wrote that.
B
Yeah, right. I wrote. I just want to share a note that. A note. A note that I made myself as I was reading the collection and. And in. In preparation because I would just love to get your take on it. The note that I wrote was, this collection feels toxic the way the. The way plastic is toxic. Silently leeching under the auspices of something good for you. A thin disguise.
A
Would you. I would k. Could you do Goodreads for me? That was review. I was like, I love that. I would agree. I would agree. I would agree wholeheartedly with that. It's funny because, like, plastic is everywhere. You can't escape it.
B
And it's. It holds good, right? Like the plastic water bottle. Like, the water is good for you.
A
It serves its purpose. But also, you know, too much of it can be too much. And I feel like that's life. That's. That's grief. We. Pain is, like, unavoidable. Like plastic. It's everywhere. I mean, but there are some good things that come out of pain. There are good things that come out of grief. You know, there is love, you know, And I feel like there's a poem. I think it's. There's no God in me that ends. It says, like, I got it from WandaVision. What is grief but love persevering. When I heard that line, I was like, oh, my God, that's true. You know, what is grief but love? Persevering and to grieve means that you have loved. And that's one thing I, like, wouldn't trade for the world. You know, I love hard. When I love, I love hard. And, you know, you see that in different people. I mentioned in this book, and I think about, like, the poem almost this one of the last ones I wrote. I think it's actually the longest poem in the book. But I was going through, like, a breakup after, like, four years, and it was just like I had to get it out. And it just, like, it hurt. Like, reading that poem hurts. It still doesn't hurt to this day. It's been about two years, but that was one I was like. It was like plastic. I just couldn't. Couldn't escape it. And, you know, that relationship held some good things. You know, I think we both loved each other, and I think that also taught me my worth, you know, so looking back, you know, it's just like, it has its purpose. It has this purpose. I wouldn't be who I am today had I not loved that hard and loved that particular person the way that I loved them.
B
Another note that I made in the collection is. Is I wrote, it's not a hopeless collection. In fact, I would argue there is hope, and that's what makes it so sad.
A
Oh, I love that. I love that. Yeah, I agree. I agree. You. You did a very good, close read. I appreciate. I feel honored. I feel. I feel seen. You're one of the first people to actually give me, like, be in conversation with about the book. So it's. It feels good to me. Yeah, there is hope. There's not much, but, you know, it's like that quote people say in the south, too. You know, having faith the size of a mustard seed, that'll get you through. And it's just like, yeah, there are times where I feel hopeless. I would say even now, there are days I have my days. But you gotta hold on. You gotta keep fighting. I think for me, this book, if anything, I wanted readers to know. It's just like, you gotta hold on. You know, there are many times you walk through darkness and all you have is yourself. But you gotta keep fighting. It gets better. I'm a living testament of that, you know, and you just have to learn how to love yourself. I feel like it's the biggest lesson that came for me out of this collection. It's not easy. Everyone's journey to self love is different. It's Something I think that's always evolving. It's a journey I know that I'm always going to be on. But you got to look back at the pain. And I think learning to look back and actually stare your wounds face to face is what this collection does. At least what it did for me, you know, like naming that pain and having it come out in these particular bulbs, you know, like the. The Last Supper, which, even with that one, I was going through a really hard time with that. And that's about my grandmother dying and then how I met someone and how the next poem goes into, like, literally, it's called prayer, and it ends with a period in the title. So having those kind of things in showcasing that story. But there is hope.
B
What's ne. What's next? And I hate to say that because this collection is like, as. As we're recording, this is like, literally just getting it. Just making his way into the world. And so it seems terrible to be like, well, what? Okay, well, now what are you doing?
A
Well, no, no, I mean, it's. It's spot on. I'm always writing. I'm always writing. I have actually, I think it's cool to announce I have a second book coming out next month. That stuff will go live, hopefully the next few weeks, called the Holy Ghost Lives in Her Lap. I was not intending to write that book at all. I missed Mother's Day last year for the first time in 32 years. I'm 33. I'll be 34 this year. But it was my first Mother's Day I missed ever in my life. And it killed me. It was because of the whole, like, real ID bullshit. And I'm from Georgia, so I renewed my license, and they sent it back without the star or whatever it is that we have to have in Georgia. So I couldn't fly. You know, they weren't telling people, you have to go in to get that real id. You can't just renew via mail. And at the time, I didn't have my passport yet. I didn't have a New York ID because I had been keeping my Georgia ID forever. And I was just, like, heartbroken and went into, like, this real. Just bad depression spell. Cause FaceTime with your mother is not the same as Axel Mother's Day. And I fly home twice a year just for her Mother's Day and Christmas. And I was just, like, broken. I was like, damn, what do I do? I can tell she's heartbroken, you know, And I just started writing, and I actually wrote that book is 33 poems. I wrote 33 poems in 30 days. And yeah, I was just like, pouring them out. And then I was just like, y', all, this feels like a body of work. But I thought it was a chapbook, not realizing how long it was. And when I sent it to Kith Books, I just randomly was like, oh, this seems like a cool press. I love how they promote their work. Submitted it and it got picked up in. That was end of September, and I got it back in a month saying, hey, we want to publish. And that editing process has been beautiful. Minimal edits. We just agreed on the final copy this past weekend. Yeah.
B
And so that.
A
That's what's next.
B
So first of all, we want to have you back once that book is in the world. We'll absolutely have you back to talk about that book for sure.
A
Yeah, I would love to.
B
You know, so much of certainly any. Again, any genre, but especially poetry. So much that gets written is garbage. Right? Like that just. I mean, great poets write a lot of garbage to get to the great. To get to the great poems. This natural part of the process. But to write 33 poems in 30 days, that is then quality enough.
A
Yeah.
B
To even be edited. Right. Like, some stuff is just like, that is too bad to even edit. Like, there's no salvaging it. Just throw it away. But to be good enough even to edit and. And make its way into a full collection. Where do you think that came from? Like. Like, how did that happen?
A
I think for me, it's because I feel so much I don't openly express it. I mean, my love languages is like words of affirmation, acts of service, gift giving. If it's my mom. But I know that I feel so heavily. And I think because I love my mom so much, you know, I think, like, that's the greatest love story I'll ever have. So that book I was. What caused me to write that book was a place of pain. I was like, what if we never see each other again? What if something happens to us, you know, with all this political stuff going on and what, God forbid, something happens. What is the one story that I want to make sure that is told if I never am able to write again? And that's where that book. I was like, I want people to know how amazing my mom is. And then our. What we've been through? Like, I was born 1 pound, 13 ounces. Like, when I mentioned the miracle baby in My God's best island. That's me. They didn't think I was going to make it. I think I quoted like three times but my mom was there every day, every step of the way still is. So that's where that came from I think because I, I mean I love that woman day in, day out like every fiber of her being. I love every atom in her body even on her worst days. And I think that's where that fluidity of those poems came from. It was just like me expressing my love genuinely and I feel like that I hope when it comes out that people pick up on that through those pages.
B
Well, I look forward to it but this book is My God's been silent by Dr. Darius Phelps. You can find Darius on Instagram doctor period D Phelps and on X at doctord phelps. And I'm your host Sullivan Sommer. You can find me online at SullivanSummer.com on Instagram at the SullivanSummer and over on substack@sullivansummer. Thank you for listening to the.
Host: Sullivan Sommer
Guest: Dr. Darius Phelps
Date: February 17, 2026
This episode features poet and scholar Dr. Darius Phelps discussing his debut poetry collection, My God’s Been Silent (Writ Large Press, 2026). The conversation explores the creation, structure, deep personal themes, and emotional realities of the collection, focusing on grief, faith, family, and the power—and peril—of autobiographical writing.
My God’s Been Silent is a raw, autobiographical poetry collection about grief, faith, family, and healing. Dr. Darius Phelps speaks candidly with Sullivan Sommer about vulnerability, family dynamics, craft choices, and the complex journey of self-exposure. Despite the darkness and pain at its core, the poetry ultimately points toward hope and the possibility of self-love—a message resonant for anyone who’s waited for answers from a silent sky.