The Celestial Press

The Celestial Press We are a non-religious literary press in Aotearoa New Zealand. Submissions in English from anyone in the world are welcome. Please make it your best effort.

We aim high. The Celestial Press [established 2020] is devoted to the best. Moreover (and we shall be fully old-fashioned in this respect), we are devoted to the very notion of the best, where it is understood that “the best” is that extreme of good quality EVERY human ought to have available to them.

15/06/2026

C F HOOD

Zermatt

They have sent me here
that I might mend
my ways.
Or my nerves.
Or my sox, even.
As if a room
with a view might help.

It’s an official story though,
and I’m proud of it.
Because, I’m here to fix things
with myself,
you know,
as Europe prepares to burn.
Again.
I’ve a long memory.

They put me on the wrong side.
The outside,
looking in.
Not much Matterhorn.
Too much me.

CRAIG HOOD 2022
[from BISCUIT TIN LOVE]

09/05/2026

JBOI ROPA

cracked mirror

the trial of the ripe
pseudo dark was never
my grievance.
I like passing
for white
except I was
brought to adult
understanding
by my very dark
pa. my father
changed our name
to accommodate
the english.
Oh well.
But take our gods?
Give us your anglican
apologies? Your catholic
refurbishment?
You colonised my spirituality
and you left no stone
unturned.
You know about
turning stones,
don't you?
the role of god and the crown?
Be the child of this father:
colour is the enemy.
All who see
colour.

JESUSBOI ROPA 2026

14/04/2026

ENNIS WILLSON

burst

so dad tells me that he feels different
which greta says
means he feels better
and can't admit it.
well, the poet in me
loves a tension
which my ex ex said
was attention
with me,
and I am my father's son.

we drove to new york
so him and my beautiful
girlfriend could get arrested.
for peace and justice,
there is nothing gossamer.
the true have a willingness
to lose liberty
for liberty,
and I burst from pride.

ENNIS WILLSON 2026

12/04/2026

CHRISTA WEIBEL

Acclaimed

My trip to Mars
Was the name
Of one of my
Early stories.
Many of us
Wrote them.
I was a girl
And enjoyed
A mystique
Among the class
That only
The naughty
Truly recognise.
When I wrote
My story
I was eight
And already knew
That our lungs
And kidneys
And brains get
Fried on the way.
But I didn't say.
And now,
Well now,
I better talk dust.
Dust.
Just saying.

CHRISTA WEIBEL 2026

24/03/2026

ENNIS WILLSON

war

grandfather had an uncle
who died in scotland during ww2 -
1943. examining for trinity, violin.
more to the story, later,
later?
oh editor, does it matter
where you are
on this plangent pain of a planet,
plunged?
We're gonna do the twin cities;
move there.
greta's mum loved mary tyler moore.
dad seems like dad
farked if I know
anymore
love ya

ENNIS WILLSON 2026

ALEXANDER SCIANNA The Epstein Files Acrylic on canvas 24" X 30"
14/03/2026

ALEXANDER SCIANNA

The Epstein Files
Acrylic on canvas
24" X 30"

26/02/2026

C F HOOD

Don't Travel

Are you a refugee
fleeing for your life?
Don't travel.

Are you on a lozenge of island
licked and tongued by the rising sea?
Don't travel.

Are you dirty by law
or tradition and killed
for loving as you like?
Don't travel.

But if you're rich enough
to board a plane
to see some sights
and leave behind a frost or two,
why not travel?

CRAIG HOOD 2016
[from THE JUDAS SOCIETY]

25/02/2026

MABEL WUZZLE

Longtime

Never, or often,
The false division of my days.
I find it unhelpful.
My fingers knead
As hard as my children
Plead
For time and money
And some dough
That won't go mouldy.
My husband,
More and more,
Lives in the garage.
Seventies Rock, I think.
I don't bother him.

MABEL WUZZLE 2026

ALEXANDER SCIANNA "Apocalypse Project 2025" 36" X 36"Acrylic on canvas
09/02/2026

ALEXANDER SCIANNA
"Apocalypse Project 2025"
36" X 36"
Acrylic on canvas

01/02/2026

ENNIS WILLSON

flood

I never said that -
dad says he wants that
on his tombstone.
since he's being cremated
and promptly scattered.
i take it,
he's joking?
give me a hint,
cool editor dude.
he's been up and
in the snow – says
it's a singlet challenge
and he's nominating you
next. are miracles
understood by ai?
we went to philly
your old haunt.
quaker city for
them stringbands.
cousin nick
was captain of the avalon
and dad mummed
down the sidewalk
with the guys for a
minute and a half.
Weeping and smiling,
the nonsense
he swayed,
while i juniored a willson strut.
I ain't dying,
boy, while the music feels me.
feels me
feels me,
greta's back btw.
(leave line in, pls)

ENNIS WILLSON 2026

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