Möbius, The Poetry Magazine | “Custodian of the Universe” | Samir Nomani

Custodian of the Universe

By Samir Nomani

Migration Issue, Fall 2015

The Chosen One has a sweet nature,

Akin to a glass of warm milk and almonds.

He gaily arranges and cleans the Mansions of the Elevated,

Asking for nothing but his work’s joy and to be of good service.

He does what he does so that the Elevated have comfort in beauty,

As the gaze of a person caught up with life is comforted by a peacock’s tail.

He cleans so that the Elevated do not live in the ugliness they often make.

The Elevated feast on red-delicious apples that hold oceans,

And they drink from chalices of heavenly nectars that know no depth,

Only to let spoil what they cannot finish. What a shame!

While the Elevated slumber soundly as if they were dead,

The Chosen One gathers bags fit for giants, filling them with plenty.

The Low will not be empty so long as there is a Custodian.

Yellow_CarPhoto Credit | Gail Taylor (2015)

My name is Samir Nomani, and I am a recent philosophy graduate from the College of the Holy Cross in Worcester, Massachusetts. I have been writing poetry and hip-hop since grade school and have remained loyal to these art forms. They elevate my sense of self and help me to think beyond convention and illusion in ways that strict rationality can never do.

One thought on “Möbius, The Poetry Magazine | “Custodian of the Universe” | Samir Nomani

  1. Samir Nomani,
    I’m reading your poem in Cork Ireland on 11 July 2016. I found you via an audio by Gale Taylor (Mobius The Poetry Magazine) shared on Anchor (ios App).

    For me, it’s the last line which elevates this poem from the ranks of the good.

    First reading I misunderstood the line: I thought it said that the Custodian cared also for the Low – as if the point was that the Custodian was friend to both the Elevated and the Low – an all-loving god.

    Second reading, I brooded on the word Custodian and began to think of the Custodian as a power that kept the Low alive but locked-up – as if in Purgatory – hanging on for a release that might never happen.

    A poem that offers me such uncertainty – for me it’s elevated to the ranks of the very good.

    Congratulations. I love your poem and it makes me want to read others by you.

    Paul

    Like

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