Hurricane Sandy Inspired Poems

The New York Times recently aired a pieces on their website detailing how the effects of Hurricane Sandy invoked the poetic passions of those touched by the storm. While other industries have been hindered by the storm's destruction, the poetry field has been abuzz with emotional stirrings and outpourings. Below are a few poems from the article:

Tall, Glasses-Wearing Man Who Sat by Me on the Train

 

You were absurdly tall and skinny
(in the best way)
in a grey sweater, dark blue pants,
and Buddy Holly glasses,
reading little red photo-book.

You sat by me on the train
and I wanted to ask you
about your book, but decided
against it because not only
was I intimidated
by your handsomeness,
I was wearing a big wool
coat over my pajamas
and hadn’t done my hair
or makeup because
I was on my way to stock up
for the hurricane,
so I didn’t look
particularly enticing.

I think you got off at 79th,
but I’m not sure
since I didn’t want
to be weird and stare at you,
even though I’m weird enough
to write you a missed connection.

I hope you’re safe and warm,
and if somehow you see this,
I’d love to show you
that I clean up okay
and grab a coffee with you
after the storm clears.

 To a Hurricane in a Hurricane

 

I’ve posted for you on here
more times than I care to admit,
certainly more times than I should.

While I know you sometimes
read these, a part of me
hopes you haven’t noticed my notes,
for I suspect they are motivated
by a need to release thoughts that,
if kept to myself,
would grow and burst me open
like an overinflated balloon.

But tonight I truly do hope
your eyes find these words.
I think of you too often as it is,
but at times like this,
the added worry drives
most of my thoughts
straight back to you
with the persistence of,
well, a hurricane.
Be safe. For me.

 Goy Looking for Nice Jewish Girl

 

We met at the Stratford Costco,
Deli section.
We spoke about ex’s and the hurricane.
I had number 99
and offered to share it with you.

You took your coat off
as we spoke
and I was bewitched.

Your beauty and charm
enchants me
and I would love to see you again.
Light a prayer candle for us
to meet again soon.

 Gristedes Glances

 

You had a magnetic gaze
in getting hurricane supplies
in the Upper West Side
basement store.
I’m gray with envy.

You can batten down
my hatches any time ...

 

Park Slope Food Co-op Sunday

 

It was around 12:30
and you were in front of me
in the express line.
I thought you were cute
in your black jeans
and navy shirt
and had the feeling
it might have been mutual.

Maybe it was
the surrounding hurricane panic
or the general co-op insanity
but we didn’t get a chance
to leave. You left
before me
and completely disappeared.
We should chat!
E-mail me if I was right...

For the full article on The New York Times website, here's the link:

  http://www.nytimes.com/2012/11/04/nyregion/craigslist-missed-connections-poetry-about-hurricane-sandy.html