Luna Hoehn
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thecrowstongue.bsky.social
Luna Hoehn
@thecrowstongue.bsky.social
200 followers 370 following 25 posts
Just another poet. She/her. PNW.

POETRY, MUSINGS, RELIGIONS, MOTHERS, FATHERS, DREAMS, DEATH, LIFE, WORDS, FEAR, FEAR, FEAR, AND LOVE. ENDLESS LOVE.
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thecrowstongue.bsky.social
Guiding lights can be anything, so long as the beacon is bright enough to bring you home. #poetry #poem
aerodynamics I can understand how easy it is to put a halo on the people around you To deify those which permeate your life Almost as important as you To the one shot you've been given Copilots, crew and company Never have I prayed That we do not hit the ground A broken bird Luna Hoehn
September 10, 2025 at 6:30 PM
Reposted by Luna Hoehn
pilnok.dad
write bad poetry. write a LOT of bad poetry.
May 12, 2025 at 11:21 PM
thecrowstongue.bsky.social
May 13, 2025 at 3:11 AM
thecrowstongue.bsky.social
May 13, 2025 at 3:10 AM
thecrowstongue.bsky.social
#poem #poetry
lust under open fire thick like cum in the mouth of love a filthy altar to pedestrian needs that slot themselves irrevocably amidst the acts of earthly devotion. Weep for true intentions. You do not find them in the light of day. Luna Hoehn
May 13, 2025 at 3:08 AM
thecrowstongue.bsky.social
The difficulty of knowing who you come from.

#poetry #poem #writing #poet
echo of silences I don’t talk to my mom anymore and she never lets me forget it her blocked number like a flickering star an incommunicable satellite defeated purpose Theres no space where she should be no space where she was yet when I birth my first daughter another burning ball of gas unfathomable as she will be small I will talk to my mom again and she will wail from within her swaddle Luna Hoehn
May 13, 2025 at 3:04 AM
thecrowstongue.bsky.social
February 14, 2025 at 12:49 AM
Reposted by Luna Hoehn
josephfasano.bsky.social
This one comes straight from the heart.
February 3, 2025 at 1:19 PM
Reposted by Luna Hoehn
selenophile37.bsky.social
When my heart
Met your eyes
Black holes
Became jealous
Of their pull

#Poetry
a person standing in front of a black hole
ALT: a person standing in front of a black hole
media.tenor.com
February 3, 2025 at 11:46 PM
Reposted by Luna Hoehn
joannechocolat.bsky.social
Unsolicited writing advice, #17171617:
Don't just write. Read books. Watch films. Look at paintings and sculpture. Play games. Go to plays. Listen to music. Think about how these things make you feel.
Making art is a two-way stream. To make art, you have to consume art.
January 13, 2025 at 4:40 PM
Reposted by Luna Hoehn
oneiresthesia.bsky.social
I continue to return to the magic of this poem..gorgeous, as always.
janezwart.bsky.social Jane Zwart (she/her) @janezwart.bsky.social · Jan 15
Thank you to the folks who make @thedodgemag.bsky.social for giving this poem a spot in their winter issue.
And thank you to John Steinbeck for the title.
https://www.thedodgemag.com/
January 17, 2025 at 11:48 PM
Reposted by Luna Hoehn
byleaveswelive.bsky.social
📢 ANNOUNCEMENT!

Our annual Best Scottish Poems (written in English) 2023 anthology has just been announced. Selected this year by Aoife Lyall. Find out who's on it and read their poems in the link below.

www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/best-scottis...
Best Scottish Poems 2023: English
edited by Aoife Lyall
www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk
December 24, 2024 at 12:15 PM
Reposted by Luna Hoehn
fortyoddcrows.bsky.social
“Language is just what poets use—like wind chimes—to catch the sound of the larger, more essential thing. Wind chimes themselves are not the point. The point is the wind.” Jenny George [From Connor Bouchard-Roberts’ A Field Companion for Wandering]
December 22, 2024 at 6:46 PM
thecrowstongue.bsky.social
This is a little poem from something I'm working on titled 'The Mother Collection'

#poetry #poems #poem
she is woven into the golden strands of my hair though it is not hers. she is shaking in the tremble of my hands though they belong to me. she is in my teary eyes my raw anger, my sweet petty revenge, my milk, sugar, butter, flour recipe for disaster she is in me. I do not strive to tear her free, unweave her from every fraught, oversensitive nerve or pull her like gnarled roots from within the depths of my muddy lungs I want her there. A reminder. The uneasy knowledge of knowing where I come from, the things I’m genetically coded to be, and the things that I pick up off the floor in the dark
December 22, 2024 at 6:55 PM
Reposted by Luna Hoehn
davebspain.bsky.social
A couple of floofed up Spotless Starlings. They don't have the colours and patterns of the Eurasian Starling and are all black. #birds #enfloofenation
Two Spotless Starlings on a tiled roof top. They are both ruffled up against the relative cold winter morning in Spain. All black feathers, without the patterns and colours of normal Starlings and the same yellow beaks, black eyes and pink legs, One on the right is side on in profile and the one on the left is head on, facing its head towards the sky.
December 11, 2024 at 2:46 PM
Reposted by Luna Hoehn
seagoatscreams.bsky.social
#poetry
I pick up mementos where we walked a bird's dropped flight a tree's discarded gloves so drifted from the pulse & desired— a pocket consents so whatever enters may haunt it Ankh Spice A strange, shiny grey leaf, big and roughly ovoid with wiggly edges, all gleaming silver- wet. It's plastered against rock almost the same colour, the cracks in the rock and the veins in the leaf speaking to each other
December 1, 2024 at 10:20 PM
Reposted by Luna Hoehn
toddedillard.bsky.social
here's my second poem from the latest @ex-puritan.bsky.social!

"...every summer from your childhood
will eventually gel into one single summer in your head
and from this you'll sketch out a draft of the afterlife."
What's New Peak Fall the world a picture book campfire and some sonofabitch has been kidnapping dogs and spray-painting them pink and green. I mean life is great but also I can’t remember the last time I dipped bread into wine or listened to Whitney Houston or whiffed the copper flower of a newborn’s scalp. I've been getting into bourbon the way Narcissus would get into large bodies of water. I'm waiting to hear back from Dictionary dot com about adding "like drowning in a Finger Lake" to the definition of "peaty." When someone says "life is complicated" they don't mean "you'll forget so, so many dead animals" but they should. They should say every summer from your childhood will eventually gel into one single summer in your head and from this you'll sketch out a draft of the afterlife. The thing with chasing down a dog that's been assaulted with the colours of spring is that even if you know its name you can call a dog and there's still a chance it will run into traffic. So, yeah, I've taken up running in front of cars and waving my arms. I'm taking long baths with stray animals and hoping they won't bite. I'm getting into printing FOUND posters for telephone poles that say things like: eyes the grey of wishing fountain coins; tongue the black of your father's belt; fur soft as the warmth pulsing in a gym hosting a middle school dance and a slow song's just come on. We're all there, waiting to be asked, to be held. We all feel that burst of cold when the doors swing open and somebody leaves.
November 25, 2024 at 5:48 PM
Reposted by Luna Hoehn
stianklo.bsky.social
I visited #Yellowstone a few years ago in the dead of winter. Obviously an amazing place for wildlife, but I was blown away with the intimate landscapes. Here's a few images from Firehole Canyon, Hayden Valley, Grand Prismatic Spring and Tangled Creek.

#landscapephotography #landscape #usa #nature
November 21, 2024 at 8:21 AM
Reposted by Luna Hoehn
angryblacklady.blacksky.app
Quit complying in advance.
November 22, 2024 at 2:00 PM
Reposted by Luna Hoehn
six18sfoundry.bsky.social
A poet is someone who swims inexplicably away from shore, only to arrive at an island of her own invention. (in After Sappho, Selby Wynn Schwartz)
November 21, 2024 at 3:08 AM
Reposted by Luna Hoehn
ktpatt.bsky.social
The Floating Heads installation at Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum, Glasgow, Scotland

I could’ve spent an entire day photographing all the expressions.

#photography #canon #glasgow #floatingheads
A black & white image of various heads with different facial expressions suspended from the ceiling
November 21, 2024 at 12:54 PM
thecrowstongue.bsky.social
if life is a bone, then I am a feral dog.
I will die with it between my teeth.

#poetry #poem
Locked jaw I feel it I feel it I feel it The worn out papery bits of myself Stuck in your teeth and the recesses of your gums Chewed up and chewed up and tongue bitten Pennies on taste buds Pennies in pockets Jingling around and around Repentant and desperate Beg for more beg for me I feel it Dirt in a shoe tread Dead leaves in a drain I am a dog at the ankles of life I cannot be outrun I will die emaciated, ribs counted by eye Before I lose a single yellow tooth to the meat of it all. Luna Hoehn
November 21, 2024 at 11:44 PM