Eleven Rivers Review Vol. 9 (2023-2024)

ELEVEN RIVERS review VOLUME 9

The Eleven Rivers Review

Palo Alto College Student Arts and Literary Journal

Volume 9 | Fall 2023 - Spring 2024

The Eleven Rivers Review is an annual student-sourced publication that highlights the creativity of Palo Alto College’s diverse student community. Our name is an homage to the Texas rivers from which our campus buildings take their names.

The works selected for Eleven Rivers Review represent the views of the student contributors, not necessarily those of the Alamo Colleges. All selections are printed with the permission of the authors and artists cited. Copyright reverts to the authors and artists immediately after publication.

CONTENT WARNING: Some of the creative works in this journal address issues related to mental health and suicide.

STUDENTS: PAC Counseling Services offer free mental health counseling to currently enrolled PAC students. Please call or email to request an appointment.

Counseling Services

Rio Grande Building, Room 132 210-486-3750

Pac-counselor@alamo.edu

Need Support Now?

If you or someone you know is struggling or in crisis, help is available. Call or text 988 or chat 988lifeline.org

In an emergency, always call 911 immediately!

Cover artist

Elizabeth

Saucedo

I am originally from San Antonio and attended John F. Kennedy High School. I have been making art for as long as I can remember; I don’t recall a time when I wasn’t practicing it. Although I took an art elective in high school and joined an art club after school, I had practiced art long before.

Splatter Fish came out of my participation in a trend called Inktober and was inspired by one of the prompts.

My goal for the future is to become the best artist I can be.

Ink, Watercolor and Acrylic on Paper

Splatter Fish

Acknowledgments

The Eleven Rivers Review would like to give special thanks to everyone at Palo Alto College who made this issue possible.

Dr. Robert Garza, College President

Patrick Lee, Vice President for Academic Success

Jennifer Scheidt, Interim Dean of Arts and Sciences

Thomas Murguia, Director, Community Programs

Dr. Rosalinda Oritz, Chair, Department of Fine, Performing and Communication Arts

Caroline Mains, Interim Chair, Department of English, World Languages and INRW

The PAC English and Fine Arts Faculty + Support Staff

The PAC Office of Student Life

The PAC Honors Program Faculty + Staff

The PAC Marketing and Communications Team

The PAC S.H.A.R.E. Center + Student Advocacy Center Team

The 11RR Team

Student Editors

Dylan Chavarria

Jessica M. Hernandez

Desiree Hernandez

Juan Palma

Thorin Pavlicek

Kayla Muzquiz

Nayab Nobahar

Adriana Treviño

Andrea Zuniga

Faculty Advisors

ENGLISH

Dr. Christina Flores

Rita Ortiz

Gerard Robledo

Ivana Vukmirovic

FINE ARTS

Karen Mahaffy

WRITING

I Am The First Born

Far Apart, Close at Heart

The Melancholy Woman Chant

The Machine

did all the faeries go Sunsets and Sunrises

Thorin Pavlicek

Jaron Carvajal

Kate M Cabrera

Thorin Pavlicek

Gil Elias

Kayla Muzquiz

Aaliyah Sepulveda

Thorin Pavlicek

Candy Vasquez

Candy Vasquez

Luminosity

Over My Shoulder

Lady in Waiting

The Duchess in Her Youth

Divine Feminine

Wish I was a Freight Train

Florence Italy (Santa Maria Cathedral)

Horses in a Field

A Distant Memory (The Last Monarch)

Rainbow Joy

Smothering Me

Day

Boy

Swing

Was His

Behold, the Goddess Imperial

Saucedo

Saucedo Gerri Reynolds

Rebekah Dominguez

Ramos

I am the first born

I am the oldest of six

The one born to two teens

The one they forgot about

I painted a fantasy

I Am The First Born Hannah

Rangel

I witnessed it all so my brothers and sisters did not I went through the pain and suffering so my brothers and sisters did not It has been twenty years

Nearly twenty-one Dad’s in prison Mom’s in the hospital

I am too young

No matter how much they put me through, I will always come to their rescue

I am the first born

My job is to make the decision

Should she stay, or should she go Dad is getting out soon, but not soon enough

It has been 11 days since I last heard mom’s voice

I am the first born

I was once A daughter

Luminosity

Rebekah Dominguez

interview

Editor Q&A with Student Writer

HANNAH RANGEL

Do you recall how your interest in writing originated?

I have always loved and had a passion for reading and writing. In my early school years, a teacher gave us all composition books, and as soon as we walked into class, we would write. There was never a topic, but everyone had their own story, which we would write about. This sparked my interest in writing, especially because at that time, it was the start of the many things I would soon face in life. I would find that escape through writing.

What inspired your poem? Or where do you find inspiration?

This poem was written at a very difficult time in my life and inspired by such—The title of my poem is, “I Am The First Born”, and in this poem, I write about what my life was like in that moment. I mentioned a glimpse of the things I went through as the older sister, but I still chose never to tell them anything to this day. I did not necessarily have parents as I was growing up or anyone for that matter to lead me or be a helping hand in the right direction. My parents were in and out of prison, and at this time, my dad was in while my mom was in the hospital. She got admitted on January 25, 2024, and little did I know that would be the last time I would ever hear my mother’s voice. As time passed things had come down to one or the other, should she stay, or should she go? As the oldest daughter, this decision came down on me, and being 20 years old in this position was difficult to handle. There was no other option…I do not recall the last time I saw my dad, but I knew that day I would officially be losing both of my parents.

Are there any other writers that inspire your own work?

There are two writers whose work I love and draw inspiration from. Christina Rossetti’s poems use intense feelings and symbolism.

I draw much inspiration from her syntactic style, which uses rhyme and parallel structure. Another writer from whom I get a lot of inspiration is Ventum. His poetry is profound and relates so much to my life. I am inspired by how he crafts his lyrics with impactful words and how he himself is inspired by life.

What is the best advice you have received as a writer?

Simple but profound words spoken by my English teacher during my senior year of high school. They were, “Find your voice and only write what you know…only then will we feel how you felt writing your story.”

What would you say is your unique writing style?

Many things have happened in my life, some of which I have written about and others I would eventually love to write about; I believe this would make my writing style a personal one.

What do you enjoy doing in your free time?

I enjoy going to parks with my cat and sometimes the college group from church to read and enjoy the outdoors. It is such a peaceful thing—it makes me feel closer and more connected with life.

If you could interview any author, who would it be?

Kathleen Glasgow, no doubt. I need her to “cut the cameras” because there was no reason I should be reading the story of my life in her novel Girl in Pieces. I would love to discuss her experiences and how I have never related so much to something I’ve read.

What is your major? What would you like to do in the future?

I am an English major. Throughout my school years, I have always been fond of my teachers and their teaching methods. Even now, when we visit one another, they continue to inspire me to become a Secondary Teacher. I like to think that as someone who did not come from much and was really only shown the wrong ways of life, I can hopefully make a difference to students who think that because this is all we know, that’s how it has to be, and be that person who shows them there is far more to life than what we have been taught growing up and how writing has played a significant role in life that way.

Over my Shoulder

Idolina Cardona

Palma

Far Apart, Close at Heart Juan

A random encounter in a vast sea I found you, and you found me. Our souls soared as we danced Catching each other, remaining entranced.

I let you steal my heart and you did the same You brought the fuel and I set it aflame. We send sweet nothings and plan future dates Everything planned out so it's not too late

But you are so far and I’m nowhere near An emotion plagues our minds: it is fear.

Can we withstand it or will it break?

Is it the truth or is it a fake?

Have we revealed too much, our hearts now glass?

Did we move too fast, were our feelings too rash?

And what about today and tomorrow, but wait, what am I saying? These feelings are ours but we shouldn’t be crying.

Yes, we long in fear but we also have hope

For a day we are together, tying the rope. Yes we are far, but our hearts beat in sync Our love can never truly sink.

Lady in Waiting Justice Mosely

The Duchess in her Youth

Rebecca Valdez

Divine Feminine Justice Mosely

The Melancholy Woman Chant

Alexandria Perez

My head a colander, strains the whispers, watching shadows fall through.

Ears, ticking kitchen timers, counting the seconds, Buzzing, buzzing, in a place where dread beckons.

My bosom, two pies, seductive and sweet, Awaiting greedy fingers, in darkness.

My fingers are agile knives, cuttng through with might, Slicing skin and flesh with a sinister delight. Eyes, cookie cutters, shaping my view, Into right-sized pieces, distorted and crooked.

My legs now cursed tongs, heartlessly grasping and severing, The tattered and fragmented remains of who I once was. No longer a woman, but dough to be torn, pulled apart, prodded, in shadows reborn. In the oven of despair, the temperature is high, Leave me forgotten, till bone-dry I lie.

Envisioned by hungry rulers

Built by illusioned soldiers. Sparked by a debate With malice and hate

The Machine

The thirsty cry for blood Pockets filled to the brim to fund. The ants follow their queen She chooses to glean All for her beloved

Machine

The mute cry in silence

The deaf pay no penance Sparks get quelled

Clogs are felled To announce the glorious

Machine

When all said is done And the last hammer swung

We say “never again” And all becomes a stain

But time is not nice

For one’s sin and vice Can rebuild the thing

The one that is called

The Machine

The Machine Juan Palma

Wish I was a Freight Train

Damion Ramos

Florence Italy (Santa Maria Cathedral)

Ysena Rodriguez

Horses in Field

Katherine Maiorana

where did all the faeries go Thorin Pavlicek

along the rippling pond we lived among the frogs. creating tiny mushroom houses to hold all our dreaming songs.

the humans did forget us no longer able to see our glow. too consumed with their money no longer could our magic show.

we tried to dance around them to make our presence known. but they could no longer see us just butterfly wings were shown. often they were greedy and always did they boast. because coin was more important than the faeries that loved them most.

A distant memory (the last monarch)

Damion Ramos

Rainbow joy

Mary Lance

Sunsets and Sunrises Jaron “JayDawg” Carvajal

You saw the sunset in my eyes

And I saw the sunrise in yours

There's beauty in both

But one leads to darkness

And the other to light

The cool of the night in my soul

And the warmth of day in yours

There's comfort in both

I saw the sunrise in your eyes

And you saw the sunset in mine

Your energy feels like a new beginning

And mine feels like just another ending

I saw the sunrise in your eyes

And said "hello"

You saw the sunset in mine

And said "goodbye"

Ecstasy Christopher Gomez

Smothering Me

Christopher Gomez

Rainy Day

Elizabeth Saucedo

Star Boy

Elizabeth Saucedo

Healing the Child Within

Kate M Cabrera

In the reticent halls of my heart, where amusement and bawling can be consistent, I look for my psyche, injured and brittle, a stuffed toy with tears.

She conceals in the edges of composed fantasies, a soft voice in the breeze, a dimness on the barrier, craving for condolence, for soft clutches to amend the ruptures carved on her dainty spirit.

I collect her pieces, such as fragments of restraint mirror, each segment a tale, a remembrance, a blemish and I intertwine them altogether with strands of tenderness, an embroidery of curative, sewed with adoration.

I nurture the child in my extension, humming songs, comforting her that she is intact and beloved, not even the absence of light can absorb her radiance, enclosed by flexibility, bravery, and dignity.

Simultaneously, we move our feet and bodies over grounds of absolution, trudging in waterways of acknowledgment and pardon, when the injuries change in the direction of insight, and the roughness turn into a patchwork of energy.

Oh, Little One, you’re not abandoned, you and I travel together, approaching entirety, and at every stage, we recover forgotten innocence, drawing our blemishes with tints of adaptability.

In the peaceful room of recollection, she and I mend, we ascend, and my inner child and I are undivided, and the stuffed toy, formerly torn and impaired, is presently courageous, a treasure of rehabilitation.

Bonnie Rebekah Dominguez

It was his Damion Ramos

nineteen

Thorin Pavlicek

i thought i knew everything and no one could change my mind when i decided what was best for me but rose colored glasses left me blind

the red flags were my own created by my own design determined to find a way out i thought nineteen was just fine to marry, to escape, to be all grown up to run away together and leave it all behind all we had to do was get married just a contract that needed to be signed

but of course it was never going to be that easy what did we even know about each other just two kids that thought they were in love but once the deed was done we both found comfort in another

that marriage was dissolved though it ended long before the new ink dried but the scars we left on our own hearts stay as reminders that with it a part of our innocence had died

Clown Romance

Ysena Rodriguez

Goddesses Elizabeth Saucedo

Abstraction Phenomenon Gil

for as I see the full moon tonight, the clouds clear the way and the light meets me in my room, I open my window and invite you in

we talk for hours and hours like if you never left, from dusk to dawn and on and on, so quick are you to leave as you come to my room like you always do as the days and the weeks and the months and the years go by, your spirit comes clearer to my naked eye each night, for which when you were here you shone through darkness like the light from the moon as it met me in my room and as the light you beam covers the earth, I’m reminded that I’ll once again be with you, the time we spend will be for forever, and forever is coming soon

Behold, the Goddess Imperial

Ian Stewart

Star Man

Rebecca Valdez

Broken Elizabeth Saucedo

Suicidal tendencies

Kayla Muzquiz

To all those who know true sorrow and feel PAIN’S reckoning.

Can you hear that familiar song, and how it keeps beckoning ?

“This too shall pass” is what I say whenever I feel troubled.

Are my efforts really worth all this constant struggle ?

I honestly can’t come up with a convincing enough rebuttal... As these intrusive thoughts cloud my mind.

Simultaneous external factors perfectly align.

I find myself back, in yet another hindering and reoccurring bind!

Connect with a trained crisis counselor. 988 is confidential, free, and available 24/7/365.

Visit the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline for more information at 988lifeline.org

Get the facts about suicide and suicide prevention:

www.cdc.gov/suicide/facts/index.html

My Tribe

Aaliyah Sepulveda

I realized that, sure, I am a Hispanic, white-complected girl. That is the tribe I belong to when people first see me. But I am also part of the Mexican family tribe the tough times tribe the tribe of college girls the tribe of piles of homework the tribe of bad decisions the tribe of poverty the tribe of tamales makers the tribe of over thinkers the tribe of father abandonment the tribe of being the best person I can be. I am of many tribes and because and in spite of, I know I’ll be okay.

Nayeli

Rebekah Dominguez

anxious Thorin Pavlicek

for as long as i can remember the seasons blended together the weight of the world around me consuming me altogether it seemed so easy for everyone else to get through the day to day while it all would leave me panicked and it felt better to simply run away

they tell you there are tricks to just drink a cup of tea but they could only ever imagine how exhausting it is to be me

My mental health

Candy Vasquez

My mental health

Its not as stong as yours

No one understands me

You call me lazy but you don’t understand why Why am I being called out for it? I sleep all day because it’s hard to find the will to get out of my bed

To find the will to do my hair and makeup each day

My mental health is mine to deal with But you tie these heavy chains on your feet and walk Is it Hard? Difficult?

I’m drowning and you attempt to save me But you drag me to the shallow water and leave me To be dragged back

You say things behind my mind’s eye That pushes me further out into the water

Until I am unreachable and you won’t be able to save me no longer I will be consumed by my thoughts.

I’m tired of being trapped in my mind It’s a house to which the walls are painted With every mistake and every wrong I’ve committed There’s no cleaning them I’ve tried

My mind doesn’t let me forget them It seems as if I am unsalvageable You miss the old me?

So do I.

I feels as if the old me is trapped Trapped behind the soulless eyes There’s no motivation to keep going

What is there to do now? ...

My mental health is a cage Will I ever find the key in time? ...

Untitled

Gustavo Garcia

JailbirD

Candy Vasquez

Oh my sweet jailbird

Freedom is what you crave

Oh my sweet jailbird you sing such blissful songs

Oh my sweet jailbird stuck in this dread cage

Freedom is on it way

Just take it day by day

For each another day gate is on its way

Oh sweet jailbird I hope to see you fly far away one day

Oh my sweet jailbird you will make your way home one day

Oh my sweet jailbird