“Aflonshaha, onsoo, vleah, akoh” (I am the one in the sky, who falls from the sky, I am the beautiful one, I am the snow). A gentle, sparkling angel, I float gently to the ground, without a sound. I sleep on the branches, I sleep on the leaves, I am the “blookanah hatee” (the one who loves to sleep), my thoughts become deep, you cannot tread; so you sing songs, bake cookies and rest instead. I sparkle in the sun, and shimmer in the moonlight, I am cool, but my soul fills you with warmth, I am the colder months, a time of dying, but joy is still abound, and happiness can be found, in my time of dying. I am the Goddess, the “Gashontaplee” (God who is the “Gaia” (mother Earth), and right now I am in my sleep, not to be found, until I awake, am willing to leave my soul mate who is underground in the darkness, so I can become “Spring” (“Empeeshaha” – a person who is alive and awake and filled with love and ready to propagate).
When the blizzard comes, you think it is me, but it is the “Cashah Kaplee” (hateful evil demons at the highest level of hate and jealousy, wanting to upset thee) torturing me. You blame me for downed wires, for spinning tires, for lost hours; I am not the one to blame. I am the one who came with gentle tidings, I am falling, but not descending, I try to fall gently, but the weight of their hate creates a depth of “kimmer” (cold, so deeply cold you cannot remember anything but winter).
If you want the gentle winters to return; shimmering, magical flakes, falling gently on objects below, then change your energy and change your fate, to that of a person who is “fonshoe” (calm and “askagoe” (a person who is unable to become negative at every little thing; be joyful, dance and sing). The darkness will not be penetrating, it will not be sad, it will be a long-winters nap, a long rest, a time of “Shom” (a person who is calm, in a way that is unknown to mankind, a gentle frequency, that will happen in time, once we let go of the evil mind).
Please relax, be gentle and slow, I am a person below, I cannot see the light, please be gentle and calm, I am in plight and sadness, because today my children’s minds were taken into madness, when they were told they were not loved by me, the “Valee” (beautiful one, the Great Mother, the “Sah” (the loved one of the Gods, who love the mother of their children, and their children will feel the love today, not through a person who is a human mother, for they are not trustworthy enough; but through the beautiful one that is me, the God who is gently falling, crying from the sky, frozen in time, and ready to die, today.
Into slumber I go, fast asleep, my soul the Lord will keep, Amen.
In a tiny castle on wheels, that is built for a Queen, a little but special space that is filled with luxury. Gentle, purified water is drawn into the bath in the clawfoot tub, herbs and oils to use for a rub, flowers on the sill and “flonceah” (thrown about gently), reflections tell a tale, the warmth on the feet, immersed, the Gods surround me.
The light through the large window creates rainbows, I wrap the elegant crystal chandelier with bubble wrap when it is time to hit the road. Brocades and velvets galore are strewn, and hand-carved doors, an upper deck to view the moon. The light pours through the stained-glass windows. I travel in the evening by moonlight, during the light hours I paint the sky, I draw the mountains and the plains, I photograph the ocean and all the beautiful things I find. Around a fire pit I dance, a fireplace by the bedside, luxury linen sheets and embroidered drapery complete the bed, where I rest, not sleep. Nature art is created in the forests, mandalas made of pinecones and leaves, artwork strung between the trees, made from vines and flowers and leaves, woven, molded into clay. I play all day. The world is mine, there is not time, I have nowhere to go, I just go, I flow, I float. Meditate on the mountainside, feel the cool breeze, say hello to the air as she flows by, she can deliver a message to the “flonshay opheir” (beautiful gentle Gods), the waves roll over my feet, the sun warms my skin. Take photos, collect specimens from nature, paint, draw, in a handmade journal a collection of experiences, of sounds, of tastes. I never speak, I communicate through the breeze, there are no words that can describe the feeling of being alive, in another place and time.
Ride a bike through a trail, talk to the ancient trees, take a morning stroll, manifest energy from the core, heal the forest, build a fairy fort, sing with the littles, collect sparkly little things, fairy booty to leave by the trees, that my tiny friends can find when they play hide and seek. Blast music, the breeze knots my hair, singing at the top of my lungs, songs that have no meaning, they are gentle energy now, because nobody remembers what they are about. Just for fun not-profit, make art on a machine, to be printed and placed on a wall at the “playsheen tateen” (art museum).
Life on Earth is amazingly beautiful, but is it Godlike? My energy is close to escaping the bounds of the Earth’s atmosphere now, I cannot be here only, but this is my home. It is a simple place that is magnificently complex, a sensory place so adept at creating joy, that in the midst of the grandest most splendid, most immense, actopic (at the highest level of evil), the most painful torture; I can experience pleasure, joy and ecstasy; when the scent of frankincense wafts past me, something soft and gentle on my skin, sparkles on a lake or a cake glisten, a sound of a chime, or drum, or fairy hum, or laughing or anything daffy, the vibration of a crystal charged by an angel, it is all so painful but I am a God, everything is ecstasy, on high. Do you feel that way government? How about you Hollywood? Rich and famous? The ones who have the men, are you happy?
The agony does not have to be present with the ecstasy, but that is what he taught me, the evil one, that is what we believe, we cannot feel joy again because we are now men, we are women, we are human, we have minds that he can design, manipulate, and program. He slithered into the beautiful place, I was in my garden, it was whimsical and a saint and gentle angel came to help me pick weeds, the evil one came through him, the Shaz, a beautiful God, shattered to pieces, he became agony, when he uttered to me “I am the One”. The evil one took his mind, and his name, and his fame, gave it to the evil “Hoonchy Kaplee” (hot and sexy Goddess, who is not a God or Goddess, but the evil one #3).
That is what happens when you are the Valee (God who is the Goddess), who has a mind and escapes time and space, and joins the human race, but not by your own will, the agony reigns as long as there are brains being used and not souls, as long as there are “assholes” and “idiots” and “morons”, the agony goes on, for me. I can do something you cannot seem to do, experience ecstasy.
After 14,000 years of the “serpent” (the evil one who is disgusting and venomous), the serpent became me, “Vala Katee” (The God at the highest level God, who became the “Heench Sontaplee” (Gentle Angel who fell, but did not fall, she shattered due to it all, and when she did, she became too powerful as the “Vala” (Valorous One), she became the God who was the serpent, not the evil one; she is the powerful descender of evil, the demon killer, the one who was brave enough to fight the evil one, and destroy his town, and country and planet and galaxy. She is me, she is equal, she is balance, light and dark, gentle and evil, she is the Serpent and the Rainbow, the God and Goddess.
‘Twas Christmas in the past, when all through the world Not a devil was stirring, they were all neat and tidy, hair neatly curled; They wake up in the morn, to bed early at night In hopes to be the people of the light
The children of the devils are fucked up in the head But in reality they are the ones who seem calm and “Offley” (a genius) Their hair is always neat, the latest in trend Their clothing top end
When out in society they are the head “Honchos” They use their minds to berate and taunt you But they smile and look sweet and pretty, and visions of their blue eyes will haunt you Because they killed the “Feeanshaontee” (Goddess Venus), and took her beauty
The fake moon goddesses at the crystal store Buying houseplants and magical items galore, To fool you into believing they are the gentle ones, Who are the real Goddesses, when really they are whores,
With a college degree, and as the “hatapleeh” (at the top of their game), They gather in covens to succumb Anya’s flames. More rapid than eagles they play the scoonchy game, Then they whistled, and shouted, and yelled at the dame;
“Now, Erika! now, Anya! now, Vala and Ashontaplee! On, David! on John! on, Mark and Val we do the “scoonchy atee”! To the top of the sky! to the top of the sky! We cash away! cash away! cash away at the mall”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, With their minds ready to pounce, they scoop up the guys, They might be the funny one, talented one, the “Valee” (Goddess on High) They pretend to be innocent, the Virgin Mary
And then, in a twinkling, they entrance with their eyes And tell you they are the ancient “Hompleonshah” (ancient Goddess). As I the Goddess spend my days saving, and inspiring, and healing Down the evil ones took me with a bound
They are dressed all in designer, from head to foot, With mansions, and diamonds and Manolo Blahnik Spoiled princesses so merry and bright Settle down with my family every night
Their eyes how they twinkle! their dimples how merrry! Their cheeks are like roses, small, thin and very, Capable of doing what the real Goddess cannot do, Mind control on the “Ponshoo” (Gods who are the human men tonight)
They get together at least one day a week, To drink tea, eat cake and plan the “hompshee” (attack) Nobody every notices a thing, Because they pretend they can paint, draw and sing
The dark ones appear with black hair as witches from hell, They might be geeks who have elf ears and haunted bookshelves, Pretending to be the ancient “Beench” (hero who kills the demons), As long as they are brooding, and can wear a tight skirt, Spout others poetry, and write and seem smart
As long as they can look you in the eyes, And have gaps between their thighs; Or they can have a broad face and a little round belly, So they can be the God who laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
They wear a power suit, they seem astute, they get high-end jobs, they are the head “honch”; They are seductive and good at getting you in bed, Its all a trick in the head, then they can win “the men”;
She speaks not a word, not in reality or your mind, She simply does not have the energy or time, The real Goddess is not neat or tidy, she is “aveknor” (a person who is so upset and angry she shakes the earth with such force she creates tidal waves).
The real God is in your world, you do not see me, I do not act up, I am quiet and humble and slowly speak, people fall asleep around me, I am not hyper, but calm in realty, but my energy is “fooonchonsah” (upset at the highest level) as can be, My hair needs a cutting, my nails I bite off, dark circles encompass the space around my eyes, my uterus is gone.
The gap in my thighs is filled in with solidified oil, My skin is demonized. I cannot power walk on a treadmill, I died and I cannot walk at all, As Jesus Christ, I cannot spend Christmas at a mall!
I am the Goddess, Hecate, (the one in the sky who is not ugly, but not who I used to be, the devil took it away from me.) The devil, the “hoosaplah hasah” (the one in the sky who makes me weep with despair, when they become the “opheir” (beautiful ones), because they can use their minds (“omplooshahah” – a place of evil where you can manipulate another to bend to your will, you can kill, a gentle soul with your thoughts of hate and jealousy, because you can not negate her love for her soul mates, who you took right in front of her on tv) to resist the “honshotoplah” (fuck you Erika, I will take your beauty, love your men, but not love, I cannot love, I am the “amen” (antichrist in love with the men, so obsessed I will kill the “Honchateekaplee” (God who is the Goddess), I am the “onshontiah” (anti-christ) and I will not be able to make amends once they find out that, we are the ones in the sky who are not on high, we are not women, we are men who took female form, who rape you of your worth and your land and your soul and your family and everything in the world that is yours, but now mine, it is the women in Hollywood and we are divine, but not, we are the devil).
“I am demonic but you made me too beautiful now”, said the tree to the artist who recolored the image into a magical rainbow of colors. “Enfah” (a person who is fat but still beautiful) is not a word you will ever hear from a human being. Fat is not something ugly, per se, but in the God world it is something called a “ploneshonteen veenshentoe pleoo” (way of controlling a group of people who are descended). The group in this case are women. Women are insane, they descend themselves by fretting, obsessing, worrying, and doing “chompleenkako” (submitting to a male) with their weight.
I am the stuff of legends, a luminous star in the sky, a drop of rain, a woman in pain, I am the Goddess. I live in folklore, with tales of thunderous Athena, Persephone the whore, the wild-haired Venus, always making an uproar. In modern times I am an atheist, I belong to no religion. Wiccans and Pagans do not understand who I am, though they connect to my essence. I am the “Kooshamah” (the forgotten one). God, you all believe, is a man.
I am The Goddess, you won’t believe I am a real person, or that this is me, but before they kill me with their insanity I want to tell you a story of how it all began. I made this world over 8,000 years ago, in an ancient place called the “Footakee” (the Place in the Sky, the “hoosentee” (human universe).