Crown Noble

Crown Noble

by Bianca Phipps


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“Words can only help you if you speak them.” -Crown Noble, Bianca Phipps

Latinx, queer, poet Bianca Phipps dissects intimate family relationships in hopes of understanding conflict as a means of overcoming.

Phipps’ debut explores an alternate timeline version of her own childhood and by moving back and forth between those timelines she highlights her own generational inheritance while inviting us to discover our own.

A College Spoken Word Phenom, Bianca is no stranger to plucking the heartstrings of readers and listeners. In Crown Noble she translates that charisma and flair for language to help her readers discover - even in the depths of hardship - the joy of family, of language, and of reclaiming your own story.


Praise for Crown Noble

“Bianca brings her heartbreak to life by continuing to build from it. What a joy that we get to hold what Bianca has grown.”

– Melissa Lozada-Oliva, author of Peluda

“[Crown Noble] is a stunning meditation on familial bonds, inheritance, and what we owe to where we come from.”

– Kevin Kantor, author of Please Come Off-Book

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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781943735792
Publisher: Button Poetry
Publication date: 08/25/2020
Series: Button Poetry
Pages: 48
Sales rank: 723,720
Product dimensions: 5.30(w) x 8.30(h) x 0.30(d)

About the Author

Bianca Phipps is a Chicago based spoken word poet, originally from San Antonio, TX. She recently graduated from the University of Northern Colorado with a BA in Acting, and was featured on UNCo's SOAPbox SLAM CUPSI team from 2014-2016.

Read an Excerpt

dad & I own the same phone case

by accident.

dad & I quote the John Mulaney stand-up

at the same time, miles apart.

dad & I drink Moscow Mules,

but never together.

dad & I sing in the same off-key,

& cry in the same silence.

dad & I know how to make the room laugh

so loud they forget we are there.

dad & I don’t call it depression,

just the sadness, a scent to shake off

maybe soon or in death,

whichever comes last.

dad & I cradle grudges in our shoulders

against ourselves. each one is named

after the ones we’ve hurt—but never

our own names & never each other.

we cannot forgive what we struggle to love,

dad & I.

I mean, he loves me & I love

everyone except myself.

dad & I both call it the sadness,

though what we mean is

the loneliness

though what we mean is

whatever will not kill us

no matter how we beg.

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