by Darius Phelps
“In My God’s Been Silent, Darius Phelps does not look away. These poems carry the weight of inheritance, holding grief, doubt, and longing up to the light. There are no promises here, only truth: “since the winter I stopped praying. Not out of rebellion— / but exhaustion. There is only so long a throat can stay hoarse from begging.” Phelps writes for those who have been asked to survive in silence, who have searched for God in the wounds of family and the memory of home. Every page is an act of courage, a refusal to let absence have the last word. This collection is not about answers; it is about the dignity of the question and the endurance it takes to speak to the silence and still wait, ‘like the prodigal son’s shadow.’” — Eduardo Martínez-Leyva, author of Cowboy Park
Ships on 2/13/26
by Darius Phelps
“In My God’s Been Silent, Darius Phelps does not look away. These poems carry the weight of inheritance, holding grief, doubt, and longing up to the light. There are no promises here, only truth: “since the winter I stopped praying. Not out of rebellion— / but exhaustion. There is only so long a throat can stay hoarse from begging.” Phelps writes for those who have been asked to survive in silence, who have searched for God in the wounds of family and the memory of home. Every page is an act of courage, a refusal to let absence have the last word. This collection is not about answers; it is about the dignity of the question and the endurance it takes to speak to the silence and still wait, ‘like the prodigal son’s shadow.’” — Eduardo Martínez-Leyva, author of Cowboy Park
Ships on 2/13/26
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