The Exchange is the Weekly’s poetry corner, where a poem or piece of writing is presented with a prompt. Readers are welcome to respond to the prompt with original poems, and pieces may be featured in the next issue of the Weekly.
The Cardinal Rule of Time Travel by Chima “Naira” Ikoro
rule number one about time traveling is to leave the past unchanged aside from what you are visiting for. often times, we watch as a character is tempted to defy this cardinal rule, we scream at the screen, our voices falling short of the pixels that separate us from another reality.
i used to tell myself that if i could go back in time i would keep myself away from so many people. every time bitterness floods me, i look off into the eyes of an alternate self that never knew what a heart breaking sounds like and i miss her.
the other day, as i looked in her direction, fighting through the sting of betrayal protected by squatters’ rights living rent free in my tear ducts, i saw myself alone, never having learned what the rain sounds like and unable to dress for the weather in her adulthood.
heartbreak is like a tonsillectomy, a necessary procedure for some of us who aren’t so fortunate. they prove to be more difficult when the patient is an adult; the younger you are, the less scar tissue you’ve built up with each passing infection.
i time travel, and return to the future grateful that heavy rain taught me how to patch a roof. now, i own things that are too valuable to get wet. i learned how to grieve a friend still living when i had enough free time to cry. now, i have bills to pay.
like, who has time for that?
i time travel, and i leave my whole self behind. instead i gather the pieces of me that i managed to not lose, i realize they are the most important ones. i turn my face away from the past, my entire being dry and protected.
Prompt:
“If you could travel back in time, instead of thinking about what you could change, write about what you’d keep the same.”
This could be a poem, journal entry, or a stream-of-consciousness piece. Submissions could be new or formerly written pieces.
Submissions can be sent to bit.ly/ssw-exchange or via email to chima.ikoro@southsideweekly.com
Featured below is a response to a previous prompt from a reader. The last poem and prompt can be found online.
Chasing Love & Ambition by Lauriel Brooks
Chasing Love and Ambition
A sign of admission
A desire of most
A few like to boast
Of late nights
And confessions
Of dark days and depression
Aimless walking and ventures
Full of late night adventures
A slate blank and its open
A mind free from devotion
A canvas waiting for a painting
A life ready for the taking
The 20’s don’t need a plan
Just an idea or a stance
To move mountains or molehills
To find pleasure in most fields
To experience life at its finest
When wine is flowing
We feel spineless
Ability to be free
Some can make it
Some must flee
Each life will be different
Each story will unfold
Chase love and ambition
The oldest story ever told
Chima Ikoro is the Weekly’s Community Builder.