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Best Famous Transmission Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Transmission poems. This is a select list of the best famous Transmission poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Transmission poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of transmission poems.

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Written by Chris Mansell | Create an image from this poem

The unquiet city

 we are succulents
our cool jade arms open
over clean tables our fine bone
china minds pull the strings
of our tongues together we plait
our thoughts with the television
back through the aerials and
transmission towers prodding
through the literal fog
the mechanics of which distance
does not startle us or the ears
pretend to hear the telephone
the page also wearies
us we have taken the meaning
out of things by laying them face to
face in our dictionary of emotions
we are so entirely alone that we
are unaware of it
and we enjoy the religion of solitude
because religions are at base
meaningless and we can turn
from them to a new hobby
to clean ashtrays or emptier
whiskey glasses we the women
of our building Margaret Gladys
Cecily Ida Eileen and I have
the cleanest washing on our block
we are proud and air our sheets
although it's a long time since
any serious stain or passionate figment
seeped through that censorious cloth
we have plants one of us has a budgie
and I have three fish the details
are unimportant God does not come here often
we would be suspicious if he
did without an identity card
we collect each others' mail
remind each other of garbage
days and are frightened
of the louts from the skating rink
but in the night I leave
my curtains open and air
my pendant tremulous breasts


Written by Philip Levine | Create an image from this poem

Fist

 Iron growing in the dark, 
it dreams all night long 
and will not work.
A flower that hates God, a child tearing at itself, this one closes on nothing.
Friday, late, Detroit Transmission.
If I live forever, the first clouded light of dawn will flood me in the cold streams north of Pontiac.
It opens and is no longer.
Bud of anger, kinked tendril of my life, here in the forged morning fill with anything -- water, light, blood -- but fill.
Written by Denise Duhamel | Create an image from this poem

Buying Stock

 ".
.
.
The use of condoms offers substantial protection, but does not guarantee total protection and that while there is no evidence that deep kissing has resulted in transfer of the virus, no one can say that such transmission would be absolutely impossible.
" --The Surgeon General, 1987 I know you won't mind if I ask you to put this on.
It's for your protection as well as mine--Wait.
Wait.
Here, before we rush into anything I've bought a condom for each one of your fingers.
And here-- just a minute--Open up.
I'll help you put this one on, over your tongue.
I was thinking: If we leave these two rolled, you can wear them as patches over your eyes.
Partners have been known to cry, shed tears, bodily fluids, at all this trust, at even the thought of this closeness.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things