Ramzi Albert Rihani is a Lebanese American writer. He received the 2024 Polk Street Review first-place poetry award. His work has appeared in several publications in the US, Canada, UK, Ireland, India, China, and South Africa, including ArLiJo, Linnet’s Wings Magazine, Poetic Sun, Last Leaves Magazine, Cacti Fur Journal, Ariel Chart International Literary Journal, Poetry Potion, Active Muse, Ephemeral Elegies, and The Silent Journey Anthology. He is a published music critic. He wrote and published a travel book, “The Other Color – a Trip Around the World in Six Months” (FMA Press). He lives in the Washington, DC, area.
Chasing the Ghost
Fear hides in the eucalyptus tree
That dwindles to the sound of silence.
Unheard screams pierce the soul.
Everything becomes mute
Memory, earlier than silence
Assembles itself, standing tall,
To tell the story of past shrieks.
We chase the ghost of the wishing well
Incessantly trying to catch it
With bare hands, it slips like mercury in a tempest
Mocking the memory of the beast
The ghost wrote a poem
And sprinkled it over the river
As if to make it holy
Not knowing it became a memory
We catch the memory and set it free
Like a bird out of a cage.
We collect our remains
To become holy again,
Free again,
Alive again,
And soar high through the heart of the storm.
The Breath of an Ocean
A source of strength yet very vulnerable.
Many times, we ride the highest wave of belief
Claiming the truth and nothing but the truth.
Beliefs paint a picture in black and white.
Contrast prevails.
As sharp as a needle
As strong as the ocean.
They draw a circle and step in
They seem stronger than the oceans
That breathe heavily, attempting to enter the circle.
The oceans try with all their might
but they are wise and learn to change course
Like an eagle who soars higher into the sky
instead of fighting the crow.
They break their waves at a shore
where beliefs become an open line,
an open house where all are welcome,
where beliefs walk in parallel
and sometimes in front or behind,
Wearing colors of pastel that enter the soul
Like a duo of piano and cello
They start to breathe.
The oceans’ waters are now calmer.
For that source of strength can now conquer
with a simple melody.
Because We Forget
One whole world, one whole country, one whole war
Disintegrating like the remains of the poor
No whole people, no whole song, no whole rain
Everything is unfinished
Like a symphony of wind
Knocking to enter from the cold.
Waiting to die is no longer
There is no time to wait
Breathing to live is no longer
There is no air to breathe.
Fantasy is a prisoner in chains
Because we forget to give, stare, and forgive
Because we forget to dream, scream, and love
Shame
A perfect storm has been long coming
Announcing an era of carnage and killing
Wars and mass shootings with muddy goals
Hands in blood, eyes in fear, and broken souls
Bang, bang, bang, and limbs fly in a surrealistic scene
Of a movie that has yet to be seen
They mingle to create a man-made dark supremacy
That no one has seen throughout history
Without color, fate, or even mercy
Apocalyptic times come prematurely
As the ship lands on the wrong shore
A breath of air, dark and murky
Boys and girls fall while not playing
With no resurrection, their eyes become a story
To tell future kids about their loss in glory
Under the rubbles of their helter-skelter
They become angels in their quiet shelter
Shame on the countries of the world
They watch like passers-by, unscathed.
Shame on leaders and followers
Who get bold and think they can control the wind.
Shame on the powerful to seek more power,
And the stronger to gobble the weaker.
Shame on me to watch, listen, and seem casual
And go to work the next day, business as usual.
The Galway Review 