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.

31/08/2026

C F HOOD

Zschlotyl

Myshkin is real
And although a dog,
Can speak several languages.
Perhaps yours.
Labrador
And celestial,
No stranger passes his glance
That isn't valued for zschlotyls.
The zschlotyl, a currency always
Of Myshkin's foreign land.
For we are the children
Of Hell,
To whom Myshkin's paradisiacal master
Has sent a high angel.
To comfort and restore.

My bedtime story from Myshkin
Each night,
Is a new tale of his life
Beyond the dark gate.
Of a place
Where all zschlotyls
Are yours and his,
Just waiting to be dug.
The evening topsoil,
Warmed for the ever night,
Left long enough.
Ripe for sleep.

Craig Hood 2026
[from WHERE IS MY LABRADOR?]

14/08/2026

CHRISTA WEIBEL

Spring

A large spring
Has appeared on the floor,
Near the copier but not
Dear to the copier
- if you get my drift.
The fact is,
And really it might be illness,
Things keep happening.
A metal spring has come from nowhere.
There wasn't an open window,
Except the metaphorical one.
And those two, don't like one another.
Actual and imaginary.
Easy and peasy.
Anyway, we're not like that
In this office.
It is the belief that
The spring
Is missing from some action,
Some important action,
That makes us wonder,
If it's us, at all,
That's lost anything.
No, it's an invisible machine
Getting frisky.
You see?
No, you don't.

Christa Weibel 2026

10/08/2026

C F HOOD

Summer Pasture at the Abattoir

I suppose a long weekend
before the cataclysm
is kinder to a creature.
Did the donkeys work
so hard that day in Pompeii?
If they had the sense?
It’s like that,
signing orders,
granting death.
A three day leave
before Tuesday’s business,
is unconscious of me and its lies;
the rumble of the guns,
soon and certain.
An industrial massacre
you would say,
had you lived to tell the tale.

Craig Hood 2024
[from RETURN TO DUTY]

26/07/2026

ENNIS WILLSON

Pop

oh, I ain't gonna tell you
about my love life.
dad hums that lots
and says it was one of your
first hits. i know you know
barry manilow – he told me.
don't be cross.
oh cool editor dude.
i was the song that came along.
you and dad both knew.
i laugh when you say
bracknell's handbag
because I was found in
a manhattan subway.
he's fading.
dad.
says he needs botox
for the soul
in this republic of nothing
where looks
live to make deals.

ENNIS WILLSON 2025

04/07/2026

WENDY HOLLIER

Practice

Well, isn't it always the way?
Long weekend, start of the holdays,
A sick day when you aren't really sick -
Rain. I had a nun who taught me piano -
She loved rain.
A week of rain meant a week of practice,
After school, or instead of.
I'd bike to my lesson,
In the rain,
And she would whack me
With a wooden ruler,
As my fingers
Crept
Irregularly
Across
The keys.
Then home,
In the rain,
To start all over,
Again.

WENDY HOLLIER 2026
[from FIRE IN THE TENT]

26/06/2026

CHRISTA WEIBEL

When I Grow Up

Like mummy?
Her job?
Or daddy,
His job!
Neither.
An original what?
An original human
- my hearing is not what it was -
Child did you say?
“When I grow up
I want to be an original
human maid for a robot?”

CHRISTA WEIBEL 2025

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

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