• Rissa

Published: Hijacking Heaven

Updated: Apr 23, 2018

Poets, like all writers, struggled to see their names in print. Journals of all sizes and types get heaps and heaps of submissions. Few make the cut. Only recently did I begin to submit to journals, and had no expectations of a reply, nevermind a space in a book. Until I got one.

My first poem published in a literary journal. Hijacking Heaven. Pen-In-Hand Journal. Looks like this...

Kind of makes me giggly and a little glowy. It's honestly better than winning the dart game at a carnival because instead of a not-so-giant stuffed animal, I've won my name in a book solely on the merit of my writing. (No joke though, I'll still take on those dart games any day of the week. Just sayin.)

The editor changed a few things, which is entirely theirs to do. But I want to share the poem as I wrote it too.

Hijacking Heaven

Polaris belongs to me.

I have captured each star and store them

stuffed next to my thighs in blue jeans.

Polaris speaks to me the most. Chatterbox.

I reach into my pocket and sift through stardust.

People notice my fingers glow

with luminous splendor from the ancient sand,

old as time, old as God.

I cannot hide this secret.

I have stolen the stars.

Five galaxies away, someone is missing their star,

I’m sure of it.

Shadows stretch long in their world.

Nighttime rules and strange creatures emerge in the everlast eventide.

Yeah, I hijacked Heaven

and I count the seconds until the framework of our sky

might buckle.

Polaris told me many things, probably secrets whispered between angels,

of unfound life and new happiness.

I smile shyly at my yellow supergiant.

Polaris loves to talk, like the omniscient old lady across everyone’s street:

ready to share.

Tonight the moon eclipses red.

I need to send them home, the stars, and

wiggle back through the wormhole to stable orbit.

Polaris guides, the same for centuries, to the north and yonder as

I situate stars back in the sky.

The hard work is done, brilliance restored to dusk.

Now to conceal my cosmic clandestine felony.

The last evidence: scrub stardust from my fingernails.

But if you ever wonder, Polaris will tell.

It was me. I stole the stars… and I kept one for you.

If you love it and want to buy a copy of the journal, please visit Amazon. They will bring a copy of Pen-In-Hand directly to your doorstep.

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