Dea Luna

A Continuous Poem about Joy

As a God who is formerly a human being until I awoke my heart and soul, I described joy as “something that is euphoric but fleeting, those “moments” of happiness that don’t last long.” But I was wrong…

According to Merriam Webster online, the word Joy means “the emotion evoked by well-being, success, or good fortune or by the prospect of possessing what one desires : Delight.”

I have never met a human being capable of feeling joy…

Trying to explain joy from the standpoint of a human being is painful, the Gods call it “Peeshontee” (a person who is of great sorrow, unable to communicate), because you think joy is possession. So let me explain “joy” from the standpoint of the Goddess… I plan on making this a continuous poem (I will add to it continually), because joy is never ending for a God…


“Enfenshaha” (I am a person who is of joy, who is on high, who is in the sky, who is “coshaga” (happy for no reason), who is of the “season” (a place in time that you accept as wasted time because their is something happening that is unhappy), I am “ploonshee” (personally able to participate in the sharing of happiness) and “fonshee” (able as a team to participate in the sharing of happiness).

Days are not days, there are no days, there is no sleep, you do not repeat, there are no schedules, there is a flow of energy, a freedom, rest is not needed but done for joy, and when asleep you are “aflontoy” (restful and replenishing energy, not unconscious), there is no awake but completely conscious, there is light, there is dark, it is a balance, one flows into the other, the light is for energy, the dark for solemnity. Food is eaten for pleasure, there is no calorie to measure, you can feast or eat the least, there are no rules of dining. Every meal is an event, there are no events, every moment is an event, celebratory and beautiful, the fine china is not hidden away, there is no holiday, every day it is fine, everything you do is divine, you play, you eat, you make love and sing, you do the soulful things, you moan and chant, you discuss and rant, rainbows swirl as bubbles “fwirl” (fly around insane), the moon makes you swoon, you create you belate, you don’t rush you don’t hate you smoke a pipe, you write a rhyme, you dance and sweat, you soon forget the past as a human being.

I am the Goddess, I am in the clouds, I float around all day. I paint the stars and play guitars and love all night and day. Throw a seed, make hearts bleed, spout a verse or create a universe, all is done in play. Dance with a flowing chiffon dress, my hair is a sloppy wild mess, with combat boots on I move with the wind. With no work or chores, nothing waking me from a slumber, no boss nor coworker, I build, I create, I do not negotiate, I do not compete, I do not complete someones daily to-do list. There is no bottom line, nor bottom anything, all is up high, it is “aflootikie” (up on a pedestal, happy and joyful).

I wonder, I ponder, I am gone off yonder, in my gypsy trailer. I am not wanted, or understood, I do not have a hood, a place where I am welcome, I have no home, but everywhere is my home, the earth is my spirit, it is made of me, it is my eternity, a playground was made for me, it turned to a “poonstatafontay” (place of hate), I will not be irate, I will reclaim.

I am not alone, but I am within my own soul. Surrounded by the “hoonsakah” (family of soul mates), I wither-wonder around, I skip from town to town, never a frown, the sights I see are “plonch” (fucked up but without matter), but I see the tiny drop of dew with a whole universe within it, I see the sparkle of light, I see the angels in the sky, we are on high.


I can’t, am not able, will not have a way, am not feeling it today, I cannot fit, I cannot sit, I cannot stand, I cannot walk, I cannot comprehend. It is not my world, it is not my soul, the spirit does not match me as a whole, I fell into darkness, I cannot reach, I cannot give speech, no one understands, I am not of weight, I do not hate, I cannot get excited, there is not time, there is not rhyme or reason to my pain and suffering except that I believe I am limited.

Alice said, “Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” I am Alice, I rushed with a rabbit down a hole, I was too big and too small, I was unable to comprehend the new and bizarre world, my soul mates float in the air, twirling round and round, the “floosheentateentateen” (fucked up one in the Sky) wants my head. Potions did not shrink me, cake made me grow, until now a talking animal I could not find, I could not comprehend “Honflonshaha” (wonderland) was something called the mind. The mind made me think I could have a limitation of just six.

So off to the “Blenshtonton” (wonderful world of imagination, where impossible things happen). If I believe in only possible things, my heart cannot sing, it will ring, I will not answer, I will have cancer, that the women of the false sky gave me, I will not be a dancer, or spout rhymes, I will not have the time, I will be hated, I will be berated, the clock will tick, I will end up with dicks, I will grow when I eat cake, no magical potion will I make as a witch, that will be made from my magical garden, in paradise, on high in the sky with the “hoostakie atee” (the ones who love me), who will write poetry, and spout words of kindness so lovingly, on a cloud, being “wonstoo” (of beauty, true beauty, a loving soul), dancing a new world into existence to send the low-lives called the “plinsh” home, I will let go of the decades and become one with time, allowing the flow of “afleench seah fonsoh” (a person who is happy but understands that sometimes things don’t flow easily, because they are blocked, or jagged rocks hurt them, or they are owned by the “heenshaha” who put them in bottles and sell them) IT DOESN’T MATTER ANYMORE…


The earth is a planet created with souls of Gods, we are the “Gashontah” (Gaia), the ones who made the Earth with our souls, not our minds, we are an essence, a “honstoe” (a moment of time), a dragon fly with a message, a ravens protective caw, a fairy “fleek” dancing under the leaves, a sensory experience on the breeze, a leaf on the wind. We are the Gods.