Tiger PAWS
St. Philip’s College Volume 5 Issue 1 Spring 2016
Tiger P.A.W.S. Personal Academic Writing Space St. Philip’s College Volume 5, Issue 1 Spring 2016
s ge’ Jud ice o Ch
Cover Art:
Adelfa by Mayela Armendariz Pastels
Tiger PAWS is a student publication composed of students’ original works such as prose, poetry, art, and photography. The student editorial staff reviews and organizes the journal. The selected works may not reflect the attitudes or opinions of St. Philip’s College or the Department of Communications and Learning.
Acknowledgments The Tiger PAWS staff wishes to thank the following people: Randall Dawson— Dean of Arts and Sciences Dr. Erick Akins—Title III Director, Title III Grant Management Ty Williams—Chair, Communications & Learning San Juan San Miguel—Coordinator, Rose R. Thomas Writing Center Nereida Reyes— Senior Tutor, Writing Center Mitchell Miranda—Art Judge Dr. Audrey Mosley— Speech Faculty, Communications & Learning Velia De La Rosa—Administrative Services Specialist, Communications & Learning The UPS Store St. Philip’s College Public Relations Department Department of Communications & Learning for funding the publication
©2016 St. Philip’s College Selections for Tiger PAWS are printed with the permission of the authors and artists cited. Copyright reverts to authors and artists immediately after publication. 4
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Editorial Staff Student Staff: Saadia Abdi Mary Bello Josie Dawn Carrillo Anastacia Casarez Zuleiva Del Angel Erika Evans Keren Hernandez Justina Johnson Alan Quiles Kassie Rice Julian Salazar
Faculty Staff: Lee Ann Epstein Stephanie Gibson Jamie Miranda Aurelia Rocha San Juan San Miguel Submissions for the next edition of Tiger PAWS in Fall 2016 will be accepted through October 7, 2016. Enrolled SPC students are encouraged to submit essays, short stories, poetry, artwork, and/or photography. Tiger PAWS
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Table of Contents Adelfa—Mayela Armendariz……………...…………...……………………..
Cover
Speak of the Devil—Juan Crispin…………..…..……………………….…….
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“Life”—Jessica Reittie……..………………………………….……………………
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It’s in There Somewhere—Joe M. Cervantes Jr. ……………………....
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Stay Loyal—Ammar Althamrawi…………...……………………….……..
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“Your Eggs Are Dying”—Annie Bisek……………….……………….…
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Studying Hard—Joe M. Cervantes Jr. ...………..…………………….....
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“A Pair of Socks”—Julian Salazar………………………………………....
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In Another’s Eyes—Shellby Delafuente.……………………………..…...
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Dangerous Beast—Kelsey Wallace……...……………..……………….…..
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“The Monster Inside”—Kassie Rice………………………...….……….
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Mysterious Light—Juan Crispin…..…………………………….…...……….
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Drawn by a Flame—Oriana Skye…….....…………...………..…………….
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“The Gaze of Reflections”—Alan Quiles …………………………….
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A Day on a Lake—Shellby Delafuente….…….……………………...…..
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Autumn—Lauren Estrada……………………………..………………….………
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“Mirror Mirror”—Anastacia Casarez……………….……………..…..
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Mommy and Daughter and Bluebonnets—Joe M. Cervantes Jr.
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The Morning after the Storm —Kelsey Wallace.…………………..…..
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Mr. Genie—Sabreena Garza……………..…………………………………...…
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“Traveling around the World”—Paul Welch………...……….….
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The First Objective Is the Study—Kennya Tamez…..……..……....…
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“Scars on My Soul”—R. Daniel Gomez....……………..……………..
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Medic in Vietnam—Joe M. Cervantes Jr. ..……………….……….…….
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“Movies with No Sound”—Deandre Gonzales ……….………...
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Rose—Lauren Estrada……………………………...…………………….………..
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“On a Bed of Nails”—Alan Quiles……………..…………...………..…..
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The Opposite Sun—Juan Crispin…………………………….………………...
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The Lamp and the Bugle—Joe M. Cervantes Jr. .……………..……….
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Table of Contents “The Door”—Stefany Wampler …………………...…………...……….....
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1 Trash Can against 1000 Cups —Sabreena Garza………...……..…...
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“Laundry”—Angela Anderson.………………………….……………..……..
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“Critically Acclaimed”—Alan Quiles……………………………………..
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Years of Wisdom—Christopher Valdovinos…………………….………
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“Forever Mine”—Anastacia Casarez………………….………………..…
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Love Bites, But So Do I—Danielle Alonzo………..…………………….....
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Valentine’s Rose—Juan Crispin…………………………………………….......
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“Suggestions for Life”—Tracie Ragler………………………………..….
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First Sight—Sam Alvarado……………………..……………..…………………..
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Beauty Anywhere—Juan Crispin…………………………….….…………..….
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“Bright and Early”—Marisol Gutierrez..………………….…...…..….
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Looking Forward—Samantha Camacho..………...………..…..………..
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Serene Monument—Julian Salazar……………………………………………...
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“The Seekers’ Desire”—Arthur Lomas.…….……………………...……
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“Success”—Anonymous…………………………………………..……….………
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Perfect View—Erika Evans………………...………………….……………..…...
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Midnight City—Belen Marquez………..………..…………………..…..…….
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Light of Beauty—Josie Dawn Carrillo..……………………………..……...
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“New Rules to Follow”—Julian Salazar..………………………………
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The Waking of the Sun—Saadia Abdi……………………………...………..…
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Sunset in San Antonio—Sabreena Garza………………..……………....…
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Riverwalk—Marley Correia…………...………..……………..………………..
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“My Sky of Despair”—Anastacia Casarez.…………….……….…….
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Strength—Saadia Abdi…………………………………….……………….………...
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Our Judges…………………………………………………...…………………….……....
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Speak of the Devil By Juan Crispin
Photograph 8
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“Life” By Jessica Reittie
Life is like a box of chocolates. Life can either do two things: bring you down or bring out the best in you. Life has many struggles and complications on the way. It’s up to you on how you take life. Life has curve balls along the way. Only the strong survive these struggles. Trust and believe it's a jungle out there. Life is also short. Cherish the life you live on this earth. Live laugh love. Never judge people. Only God can judge. Love and love hard but never be a fool. Always say I’m too blessed to be stressed. In life itself, it teaches you how to survive. Life teaches you that you have to crawl before you walk. Life shows you that there is nothing in this world given to you. Earn it. Struggle to get where you want to be. Life says don't stay comfortable at the bottom. Put your mind to it and be like Nike: just do it. Life teaches you that you can run from your problems but you can’t hide from them. So when I tell you life is like a box of chocolates, don’t run from it, don’t hide from it, believe in it, cope with it, deal with it, and at the end of the day you will see the true meaning of life and how to survive.
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It’s in There Somewhere By Joe M. Cervantes Jr.
Photograph 10
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Stay Loyal By Ammar Althamrawi
Photograph Tiger PAWS
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“Your Eggs Are Dying” By Annie Bisek You shouldn’t wear leggings as if they were pants; always leave the house presentable; make sure your eyebrows are sisters, not twins; trim your hair every three months; go to new places and meet new people; don’t stick around a group of people that doesn’t contain potential husbands. But I keep friends for companionship, not just potential marriage. Will you let me buy you a whole new wardrobe? Sure! If it’s free to me, you can dress me however you’d like! Don’t eat fast food too often; eat more vegetables; remember to use under eye cream every day. Are you going to buy that for me? I do all of my shopping at Target. Don’t give guys the impression that you aren’t interested; smile all the time; sit with your back straight; let them see how much you love children; wear fake glasses so you appear smarter; never open a door for a man; stand there and wait for him to do it; don’t even think about bringing your wallet on a date. He’s out of work right now. Then why are you even dating him? Priorities. Make sure he walks you to your door after every date; learn how to cook things that don’t require a crock-pot; major in becoming a domestic diva; remember: the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach; stick a magic eraser in the toilet to remove stubborn rings; if he leaves the toilet seat up, close it without saying a word; dress to impress; never wear pajama pants to bed after you get married. So I’m supposed to wear lingerie every night? If you don’t think you’ll ever meet someone, you won’t; you’re just not looking in the right places; take up a new sport; take up a new hobby; take up new interests; stop spending your evenings Netflix bingeing; become a professional man hunter; don’t let anyone into the friend-zone before giving them a chance; don’t forget the reason you’re on a time crunch: your eggs are dying.
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Studying Hard By Joe M. Cervantes Jr.
Photograph Tiger PAWS
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“A Pair of Socks” By Julian Salazar
Never alone always with the other tied together they are happy. Used and dirty some go forgotten. Others bright and some so white, socks with stripes go hurt and bare. Should we lose that thread or tie it up? Reminisce the one that was lost so, we mixed and matched. We hid that fact to have lost the other half. Then, in a moment of absent mindedness we encounter that long lost sock. A rediscovery of what was once so long lost we face it with exuberance and a hint of yearning. Finally the pair can tumble dry.
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In Another’s Eye By Shellby Delafuente
Photograph Tiger PAWS
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Dangerous Beast By Kelsey Wallace
Photograph 16
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“The Monster Inside” By Kassie Rice “No! Please stop ….” I woke to clammy hands and a cold sweat. I looked around to see if my nightmare had woken just me. Yes, I sighed as the angry winds and stormy rain pounded my window like a jealous ex. His steaming breath and harsh words gripped my heart like a child in its mother’s comforting arms. “This is how you show love. I am teaching you how to be a woman. Don’t worry; you will like it, and besides, no one will believe you; you’re a child. ” Tears found their way into pools in my eyes and began a war to spill over; truth was I didn’t like it. I’m not ready to be a woman. But were his words true? Will no one believe me? I mean, I am 12; how could they not? “Renee!” The nightmare was now a reality. I stayed quiet. “RENEE!” This time a little more anger was in his tone. I got up slowly as if I were walking to my own execution. “Yes, sir?” Fear ripped through my body like a knife through butter. “Go grab me a soda from the kitchen.” I smelled trouble, but I walked away and proceeded towards the kitchen. The old, stale carpet rubbed across my pretty pink painted toes, My Little Pony pj's hanging from my small frame as I walked to what felt like eternity. I reached the kitchen. The cold tile sent chills down my spine, and the tears began to pool again. “NO,” I muttered sternly to myself. “Don’t show weakness.” The fridge to my right, the knife drawer to my left, calling me, whispering that it can make it stop, make the pain go away; I reach for the handle. “Momma, Momma,” my little angel tore my gaze from the storm cooking outside and quieted the storming brewing within. Picking her up, I held her close as she rubbed my face. I didn’t even notice the tear that found its way to my cheek. Smiling, I kissed her forehand and thanked the heavens for such a soft, sweet princess with the fire of a goddess. I paused as she giggled at nothing; she knew, knew that my heart was heavy at the moment, thinking of ways to make me smile, the knowledge she had at a tiny age. Rocking her, I began to sing a lullaby. “Go to sleep, go to sleep, Tiger PAWS
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sweet baby.” She gave me one last gaze, letting me know things will be okay. Smart girl, digging herself closer into my bosom, she closed her eyes, as if my arms were her comfort and security. As her breathing became steady yet heavy, I knew she was falling into a deep slumber of sweet butterfly kisses and rainbow hugs. As I lay her down in her crib, the thunder banged loudly, like a marching band pumping the crowd at an intense football game, and there I was again, standing on the cold floor in my parent’s kitchen, battling the demons sitting in the form of relief in the knife drawer. “Not tonight I muttered,” opening the door to the fridge; I grabbed his favorite, Sunkist Orange. I never understood how anyone could like such a nasty soda, but then again, I didn’t understand a lot of things that were happening. Resting my head on the door of the fridge, I said a quick silent prayer. “Lord, please watch over me; hold my hand.” Time to face my monster this time; he wasn’t under my bed. “Here you go,” I said, trying to keep distance between him and myself. He found a way to touch my hand. My skin crawled, and it felt like thousands of spiders all over me, finding their way to make me feel overly disgusted. “I am going to teach you some cards,” he said. “But I have school tomorrow.” I hoped he heard the pleading in my voice, begging to be free from his torture that had begun to grow into unbearable thoughts, things people only whisper about behind closed doors, or fans looking fearfully, reassuring themselves that no one heard the words play over their lips. “This won’t take long; sit on the floor.” Guess my mind had been made for me. I hesitated but followed orders. As I sat there, I watched the time on the wall snail by, like it was enjoying the show. Five minutes turned into forever as the hands of age and hard labor went too far, touched too much, stole my innocence in ways that were unnatural. Once he had what seem to be his fill, he casually said, “Your lunch money for school is on the bed.” I didn’t understand why this was happening, but I grabbed what was mine and moved with haste. I was too scared he would change his mind. Once I reached my room, I stashed my money away with its cousins in the hole I made in the bottom of my mattress. I had friends who would feed me; this had gone on long enough; this was 18
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my ticket to freedom, away from the lies we danced to in our everyday lives. No one could see the dark secrets that tried to escape from the windows to my soul. I lay down, cussing at God furiously. “I thought you loved me? I thought you listen to our prayers? Where are you when I need you most? What did I do wrong?” Silence … Guess he is busy again this time; the tears broke through, endlessly, until I woke to the sun. “Wake up,” my mother’s voice rang out. “Mom, can we talk?” I asked, praying she would say yes but hoping she would say no; where do I begin? How do I begin? “Yes?” “I’m being touched.” It raced out before my mind could fire the gun. I stood there numb with fear. “Mom?” Still nothing; she knew by whom; she knew what was going to be said next. I could see her battling her inner fears. I struck a chord, a chord that was buried deep within her that no one was to know about. “You shouldn’t tell lies.” And she walked away; the wind had been knocked out of me; he was right. I felt the anger; the sadness filled my mind, body, and soul. I was empty. I went to the kitchen. No one was looking; no one would care. I could hear the demons chanting me on; at least they were my friends; at least I knew they loved me enough to make the pain go away. So many to choose, the sharpest; get it over with. I felt the cool blade against my feverish skin. I began to press a little harder; it tingled as if I were getting attacked by killer bees. As I began to press a little harder, warm bright red blood began to seep slowly, like air from a balloon. “Please don’t leave me,” I turned misty eyed and looked upon my brother’s face. “Please don’t leave me,” he said again. “I love you.” Sneaky God; I was frozen in place. “I can’t stay here; it’s not safe for me here.” I explained to him the best way I could. No words could I form to explain to him what was going on; I didn’t even know how to explain to myself what was going on. But he knew. He understood, and from that moment on, I was alone, alone in this world. I ran away and never looked back. Tiger PAWS
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Mysterious Light By Juan Crispin
Photograph 20
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Drawn by a Flame By Oriana Skye
Photograph Tiger PAWS
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“The Gaze of Reflections” By Alan Quiles When Narcissus gazed at his own reflection, The love he felt, was profound affection. He gazed and gazed as the sun captured his mirrored image, and took it away. He returned to a place that showed no haste. He was enthralled with every crevice of his face. His love and passion elevated to surreal heights. He did this all day until it disappeared again into the night. As time took its toll, he began to notice the very features he loved began to get old. He became angry with his reflection, which was far from perfection. Angry at the lake, for his beauty was at stake He grabbed a pebble and tossed it into the water. As the ripples became calm, He realized just then, that he was proven wrong. He washed his face and was taken aback; it wasn’t just his beauty that was lost. It was all the time he would never get back. Just then, it became very clear, that he robbed himself, the very best of his years.
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A Day on a Lake By Shellby Delafuente
Acrylic Paint Tiger PAWS
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Autumn By Lauren Estrada
Watercolor 24
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“Mirror Mirror” By Anastacia Casarez Looking through the mirror inside I hear the unknown and see the unheard A precious monster pacing deep inside A demon of guilt and worry My demon my love my friend He chuckles staring back me Behind my eyes Echoing deep within my mind Screaming, pushing, demanding to be let free You conquered me once, sweet prince of mine; never again will I bow to you Your kingdom buried deep inside, burned to ruins with last battle You make me want to runaway Fly off with the birds Sail off the sea Far as I can see, so far that I can be in control You make me want to … fall off again Drifting between sleep and fantasy, crossing the thin lines into reality, drifting so far off past midnight Just close my eyes Once more, one time I ask I beg and plead Let me sleep let me rest
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Mommy and Daughter and Bluebonnets By Joe M. Cervantes Jr.
Photograph 26
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The Morning after the Storm By Kelsey Wallace
Photograph Tiger PAWS
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Mr. Genie By Sabreena Garza
Photograph 28
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“Traveling around the World” By Paul Welch In this world, everyone has a goal, a propose, a dream, that thing which makes you feel alive, as well as gives you a reason to wake up another day and fight for that goal or any target you have in mind. Just imagine one person who wants to keep forward and have a dream, a mission in his life, and the world is his bucket list. The psychologist and literary author Dr. Seuss would say, “You can find fun and one adventure in every corner”; in this tiny world, we find one person, innovative, optimist, but the most interesting, he has an unstoppable and adventurous soul. This guy has a dream. It is no more than traveling around the world, and his mission is to collect emotions and memories. In this world, we find several kinds of people, tall or short, fit or thick, faster or slower, control freak, rule breakers, happy people, but one thing makes us equal. That is, we are human, and some people awaken to an interest in this life, one dream; for example, we like to buy the things we like. But like everything in that life, there is a price to pay. Consequently, those who start to find a job to get that financial flow want more, so the second thing that they desire are material things, for example a vehicle, an apartment, that fancy cellphone, the geeky computer, oh, yes, those material things that fill up our souls. But at that point starts the nightmare for any person, the routine; that cycle makes us bored. Finally, we decide to breakout of that cycle of drudgery so we begin to find something richer. Do you ever wonder what makes you alive? Well, let me give you a few examples: learning, love, or having adventure, that thing which gives you the strength to keep moving forward. Let’s return to our guy. He is not different than you; after all, he is living in that routine. Maybe he has had trouble in love, but this guy has a peculiar thing that makes him different. This guy is a hard worker, with a big smile, with ambition, with a big dream. His dream is Tiger PAWS
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traveling around the world, but something held him back, and he was afraid, afraid to be out of his comfort zone, afraid to fail like he does in love. He had to learn to listen to the little voice inside himself that tells him what he should do, to learn to determine the good from the bad so that he one day he decides to widen his circle. He finds new emotions, learns new lessons about life. He listens to that little voice that tells him he has to explore out of his current circle, to reawaken that feeling of being alive. His dream to travel around the world gives him the strength to keep going, and he learns that life is too short, as well as that love can be found in any corner of this world. A mission was proposed to him, not only travel the long expanse of this world but also his mission is being a collector of memories and emotions. That guy is eager for adventure, new life experiences. He is a collector of new emotions, the kind of emotions you can learn and you can fight for. When a he finally has that in his life, he finally becomes truly human and understands that. All life has a reason to be. If you fail, that does not mean it is the end of the story; maybe things happen to help us learn something new. If you do not take chances, what are the worst things that could happens? This guy makes a decision to keep going with his life, help who he can help, do what he has to do, and from that moment he starts the journey which can change his life and collect memories, those souvenirs which do not have a price in this world. In others parts of his life, he finds those places he has yet to discover and find for himself those things which keep him alive. Finally, I can tell you that this guy, right now, is preparing for the next step, the next adventure. He is planning his next trip, determined to find himself, with only one back pack, cargo pants, boots, one emergency first aid; the world is his bucket list. That guy craves for adventure. Taking a trip around the world for him means freedom of the soul; the question for him isn’t when is he going stop, but who is going stop him? Take a moment, sit and ask to yourself if you are ready for your next adventure like this guy.
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The First Objective Is the Study By Kennya Tamez
Photograph
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“Scars on My Soul” By R. Daniel Gomez
It was May 30, 2007, Memorial Day for most, and we had been encountering heavy resistance and countless enemy engagements. A little sniper fire here, a few IED’s there, an ambush over there, a fellow Paratrooper killed or wounded, and an occasional suicide were all among the many realities that we became numb to and ever accepting of. Being the platoon medic, I was the combat medic in an airborne infantry platoon that my fellow Paratroopers leaned on for medical support, advice, comfort, and most importantly, life support. But even then, in those days, my strength waned, and I found myself succumbing to the stresses of an urban warzone. A letter in the mail from my wife at the time saying our marriage was over, the loss of three friends, including one of my best friends, and legal trouble waiting for me as soon as we stepped off the plane back in the states, all drove me to a life altering sense that usurped my fears of death as well as my perception of life. Days earlier, our command had us cemented into the town of Senia, about twenty miles northwest of Tikrit, Iraq. We found some abandoned adobe huts that resembled stables as we waited for 2nd platoon to link up with us along with news that they were in possession of our platoon mail. Within the hour, they made it to us with mail in hand. My squad leader found me and gave me a letter that I instantly recognized with my wife's handwriting. Opening the envelope and unfolding the letter, the words “I'm sorry it had to be like this” at the bottom of the letter jumped at me, and immediately, a sinking pain in my heart enveloped my insides as I fought back my true emotional response while reading those crushing words. I never felt more alone than on that day. The next day on the way back to our Fire Operating Base (FOB), my squad leader leaned over and said, “Bravo-Six (The commander’s radio call sign) is asking for you and you specifically.” I instantly recognized the omen in his words. Living in the dirt, carrying forty pounds of body armor at all times, left me dirty, unshaved, exhausted, and mentally numb, so when I went straight to my command as ordered, before they even addressed the reason they summoned me, they were scolding me for my appearance. I stood at 32
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parade rest as they informed me that several of my fellow Paratroopers had conspired to commit insurance fraud by burning their vehicles before our combat tour, and because I had unknowingly given one of them a ride from the scene back to the barracks, I was going to face charges of conspiracy along with aiding and abetting. The commander also informed me that when we got back, I'd be directly handed over to Criminal Investigations Detachment (CID) for detainment rather than approved leave like everyone else. Later, when I was wounded by enemy machine gun fire and recovering in the hospital a few months later from those wounds, I discovered that CID only wanted a mere statement on how I knew the individuals connected, and they had no intent of filing charges. Regardless of the disposition, I never fully forgave the 82nd Airborne for bestowing that upon me in those days. I sat in a ninety-degree porta-potty that night in the FOB, staring at my M-4 (weapon) for an hour, thinking, “I’m fighting here only to be thrown in a cage when I get home.” As tired as I was, I hardly slept that night. The morning came with my squad leader, Staff Sergeant Duffield (Duff), waking us to prep the gun trucks for our next patrol that was to be deep within the dangerous limits of the city of Baiji. Still heavy hearted from the events that had already taken place, Duff spoke, “Yo, Doc, check it out, man,” as he threw the Memorial Day issue of Army Times at me. “Remember those cats that got smoked last month from Scouts? There was nine of them....NINE KILLED IN ACTION.” I opened the paper, and there were several pages with faces of all that were killed in action that year. I scrolled through the faces, and there he was, Sgt. Randell T. Marshall, 23 April 2007, killed in action. I stared at his face with empty emotion and expression as I saw the other familiar names of the nine alongside of him. Specialist Jerry King, Specialist Michael J. Rodriguez, killed in action 23 April 2007, both drinking buddies I met through Marshall and had become acquainted with at barracks parties as well as off post shenanigans, but nevertheless, all dead. Seeing Marshall's face, I calmly spoke," I know these guys." Looking back, all I can say was I knew Randall Marshall, he always talked about how his Mustang would smoke my Civic, and I always jokingly asked if he'd be mad if he found out his sister had sex with me. I remember the offensive jokes toward each other, all the ways combat brothers would express their approval of each other and validate our brotherly love. He was twenty-two, and he was my friend. About a week later, Duff and I found ourselves in the cross hairs of
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enemy machine gun fire during a firefight; I was severely wounded, but I was alive. On the way back to FOB Aide Station, with my head and face bleeding, I started to pray, except . . . not for life, but for death. As I bled, I whispered through the blood pouring from my nose and mouth, “Please don’t let me go home, not like this . . . please. Let me stay here, forever young, forever a Paratrooper.” Retrospectively, I find myself still searching for answers to these experiences but am always left silent with the images and the voices of those missed and those I still hold with contempt. The physical and mental scars of those years as an Airborne Medic have since calloused, but forever remain visible with all my passing reflections, reflections familiar to those who made it home with many of the same scars on their souls.
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Medic in Vietnam By Joe M. Cervantes Jr.
Photograph Tiger PAWS
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“Movies with No Sound” By Deandre Gonzales
Sit close to my lady, smelling the scent of her hair, I can’t help but wonder, touch, laugh, and stare. The flickering of lights dance across her face, those eyes alone deep and chocolate beg for my embrace. Oh, tell me how I came to make this woman mine, only time will reveal what she has to find. Time moves swiftly and fleetingly without any second to spare; I must reach out to my sweet, my lovely lady fair. Now holding her strong and endearing, brushing hand against honeyed skin bare, I closed my eyes bravely, and leaned in to kiss my savory, my candied, my lady fair. Buttered kisses with soda tongue, I turned to feel out her form, amazing was her physique; I had to write this poem. Crowned by my queen, her king of kings, I was enthroned by her lips, her mouth. Then the credits blared and laughing with my lady fair, we realized we were watching movies with no sound.
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Rose By Lauren Estrada
Watercolor and Copic Markers Tiger PAWS
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“On a Bed of Nails� By Alan Quiles On a bed of nails, Lies a man, in a moment lost in time and sand; he has found solace and peace when all hope was lost and where happiness has ceased. On a bed of nails, Lying flat, facing the sky, meditating on the universe that blankets him far and wide. The fusion of the world weighing heavy is once but a memory, as his thoughts continue to pour outwardly steady. On a bed of nails, He is puzzled with the stars that twinkle at him from afar. He no longer felt the pain in his back of pinpricks and scars. In that very instance he found closure from a distance, navigating his imagination to a transcending existence. On a bed of nails, Through pain and sensation, he formed a communication, deep inside himself, that stretched further than Orion’s belt. On a bed of nails, From far and beyond, the heavenly bodies reflect so vividly in unison. Gazing outwardly, his senses are charged powerfully. As he sat up and placed his feet on the ground, he began to see the beauty that is the truth from within, of the harmonious chords of sound. On a bed of nails, With this newfound awakening, he has arrived to this conclusion painstakingly.
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The Opposite Sun By Juan Crispin
Photograph
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The Lamp and the Bugle By Joe M. Cervantes Jr.
Photograph 40
Spring 2016
“The Door” By Stefany Wampler A hospital full of hope and despair; People coming and going, some of their bodies repaired. One single silent door that leads to the Operating Room, It sits like a gateway to heaven, or it leads you to your doom. Opening and closing as swift and soft as the wind blows, Will there be light at the end of the tunnel? No one knows. Sounds of silent sobbing and laughter can be heard; Sterile bright lights make everything blurred. One single silent door that leads to the Operating Room, Its cold, clammy, hard wooden doors open up to an artist’s workroom. Though the sights and faint sounds scare many, No one is prepared and there is room for plenty. The swinging hinges of the door creak quietly as it closes; Loved ones peer down as far as they can above their noses. One single silent door that leads to the Operating Room, Maybe it will bring complete comfort to some without gloom. Artic-like temperatures behind the door await, It stings the skin like a million needles, once they release the floodgate. People hug and hold onto their loved ones; Some make a call to their maker and cue the nuns. One single silent door that leads to the Operating Room, Please rest assured that it will all be over soon. Doctors do their best work behind those doors, They will always open quietly for you and yours.
Tiger PAWS
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1 Trash Can against 1000 Cups By Sabreena Garza
Photograph 42
Spring 2016
“Laundry” By Angela Anderson Why do you reach so high? I swear you touch the sky. Your odor is really trying. It is making my eyes wet and crying. I took just one short look, Now I’m running for a book. I see clothes everywhere, But I have nothing to wear.
Tiger PAWS
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“Critically Acclaimed� By Alan Quiles
Criticism can be constructive, convoluting, and sometimes destructive. Criticism comes in many forms, loving, hurtful, and unwarm. It can be an improvement from candor, or taken with a grain of salt, in an outpour of slander. All criticism must be taken in stride, humbly and with no relevance to pride. It should be handled delicately, and never infectiously. Criticism is critical and many times despicable. If ever faced with such, the best response is thank you very much.
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Spring 2016
Years of Wisdom By Christopher Valdovinos
Photograph Tiger PAWS
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“Forever Mine” By Anastacia Casarez Chain up the feelings left inside I hate knowing that you now have the better life Peace love unity respect The vows we took that haunting day Finding your voice that sung the dreary days of our past I lose myself—every day, overdosing on my other half, the one, the only, the lyrics of the native tongue of my soul I hate this, I hate you I hate life you gave me I have no remorse no gratitude Sell your soul past the highest mountain of the underworld to purest of angels My heart, no longer yours, can go to highest bidder We separate the bad from good and the right and wrong in this life I guess that was you and me Gavin, my life and destroyer, my universe Infect my every cell, my air my blood my – me You love to break me, you hate finding the missing piece Yet you can never leave the body you once possessed My life my soul my being chained and sold to you Faith, hope, and love don’t exist My eyes bleed the words you trapped me in You sang, “I love you, your innocent aura is like a siren luring me to you, you’re forever mine.” Forever mine FOREVER ! FOREVER MINE! FOREVER YOURS! FORever till eternity Lose the fight Just say yes Nothing less nothing more In you Live in peace
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Spring 2016
Love Bites, But So Do I By Danielle Alonzo
Digital Art Tiger PAWS
47
Valentine’s Rose By Juan Crispin
Photograph
48
Spring 2016
“Suggestions for Life” By Tracie Ragler “These are ideas I want you to consider when you start your journey as an adult. Life is not a race, and everyone doesn’t have the same time frames to complete certain mile markers of life. For instance, I would like for you to find a husband or wife before you have children. If it turns out in reverse, then it’s okay; I won’t love you any less. Remember to put yourself in others’ shoes before you give advice on their situations. Enjoy your life as a single person while you search for a mate. When looking for a mate, be sure to start off as friends and get to know one another. There’s no rush for you to get married. It is easier to find your mate first to make sure they’re who you want to create a life with and afterwards create children. If you have children before you are married, I hope it’s love and that marriage follows soon after. Run your household as you see fit, and don’t compare it to other households. What works for you may not work for me, and I am okay with it. You can do anything in life as long as it’s legal, makes sense in your life, and it’s what you want and not someone else’s forced agenda. Never think you are less than anyone or too good for anyone because no one is perfect. Don’t play house with anyone who isn’t your spouse because they should get nothing for free. Choose your decisions wisely, and if you can’t choose at that moment, then wait awhile longer. I want you to be as happy and successful as you want to be. Please have goals and set manageable time frames to complete them. If circumstances change your goals or the time frame, don’t beat yourself up. Life doesn’t always happen according to our plans and time frames. Just know as long as you’ve done everything in your power to achieve your goals, then it’s enough for me. Give freely that one day someone may return the favor. Love with your heart and have the insight to know when it’s your head. These are my suggestions to you to make what you want to come true in life.”
Tiger PAWS
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First Sight By Sam Alvarado
Colored Pencil 50
Spring 2016
s ge’ Jud ice o Ch
Beauty Anywhere By Juan Crispin
Photograph Tiger PAWS
51
“Bright and Early” By Marisol Gutierrez
Bright and early is my job Before the sky is light and bright Ready to mold and guide my son His mind and soul to reach its might
Bright and early is my job He’s young and thinks he knows it all Little does he know that he will fall That is where I take his hand
Bright and early is my job Like a guide I’m here to show He’s learning right from wrong from us Into a man my son will grow
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Spring 2016
Looking Forward By Samantha Camacho
Photograph Tiger PAWS
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Serene Monument By Julian Salazar
Photograph 54
Spring 2016
“The Seekers’ Desire” By Arthur Lomas We come from a long voyage, From every part of the globe. We come for different reasons, but we look to achieve the same goal. Our home is always with us; we’ll never forget it, yet we look ahead. We flee persecution. We run from poverty, From tyranny, maltreatment, and abuse. We’ve heard the stories Of a prosperous, promising land. We’ve made sacrifices most would never understand. We’ve seen with our own eyes, oppression. Yet we still have hope To be able to achieve what we could not achieve at home. We’ve come a long way. We seek the crimson red. We seek the cleansing white. We seek the regal blue. We seek to be one of you.
Tiger PAWS
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“Success” By Anonymous
Waking up to the smell of success is something I was told I would never experience; Being a product of a broken home I wanted to make a difference. Coming home to lights off and no food to eat made me fight for success with every breath in me. Being a single parent with five kids, every one doubted me. Some even said being on welfare was all I would ever be. Working day and night double shifts moving off no sleep, I wasn’t going to be another statistic; that wasn’t just in me. Here I am living my dreams and reaching my goals, wanting to tell my story, the new one that nobody has told. Success didn’t come easy; it wasn’t handed to me with a wooden spoon. Now that I have these opportunities, I’m going to continue to reach for the moon. For those that doubted me, I want to know that the smell of success is all that I will ever need.
56
Spring 2016
Perfect View By Erika Evans
Photograph Tiger PAWS
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Midnight City By Belen Marquez
Photograph 58
Spring 2016
Light of Beauty By Josie Dawn Carrillo
Metallic Paint and Sharpie Tiger PAWS
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“New Rules to Follow” By Julian Salazar “If a store says it is going out of business for more than a month, then take what you want. If you go to a movie theater by yourself, sit in the gap between two groups. Look but don't touch; touch but don't possess; possess but don't be greedy. Always bring a six pack of beer to a Hispanic party, even if it is a child's party. Do not look one way on a one-way street; always look both ways. If you text while on a date, make sure the date is still there. If your date is texting, then leave when she is not looking. If you are going to buy an American product, make sure it’s a gun. Do not speak to strangers unless you want friends. If you act the part, you can go anywhere. Never look a cat in the eye, but never look away from a dog. Always be surrounded by friends, but always be supported by family. If someone starts to talk about fantasy sports, make sure they talk about their latest venture and family on-goings, so you cannot care all at once. If people get emotionally devastated when their sports team loses, then I should be allowed to do so when Leonardo DiCaprio loses every Oscar. Also, never bet on DiCaprio to win an Oscar. If your boss asks you to do something outside your job description, make sure it’s poorly done so he or she never asks you again. Master the art of looking busy; it might just save you from speaking to Janette from accounting... the one with all the cats. Learn to love the bomb. You do not have to outrun the bear, just the other guy. If you do not know what to do, then just mimic. Never yell or speak loudly to an elder; instead, speak very quietly. If you ever come across a pretentious person, try to outdo them; you will have a great time. Never steal, unless it’s music, then nobody really cares. If you want to change the world, marry a Kennedy. If someone tells you should never live your life according to the dictates of some else, then should you live by that dictation? Do not over-think a problem, you clever boy.”
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Spring 2016
The Waking of the Sun By Saadia Abdi
Photograph Tiger PAWS
61
Sunset in San Antonio By Sabreena Garza
Photograph 62
Spring 2016
Riverwalk By Marley Correia
Photograph Tiger PAWS
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“My Sky of Despair” By Anastacia Casarez So calm and peaceful With rosy red streams Colors sweet and mistful Such sorrow you scream Turning and twisting Calming and tearful Rocking and falling Smiles and fearful With eyes you laugh And lips you lie Hearts are half And souls to cry
Sit Just breathe This was meant to be Have your peace A day of solitude Be filled with glee A gift of gratitude Now off you go; you’re free 64
Spring 2016
Strength By Saadia Abdi
Photograph Tiger PAWS
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Our Judges Prose: San Juan San Miguel
is the Coordinator of the Rose R. Thomas Writing Center at St. Philip’s College. He is also an Adjunct Instructor in the Communications and Learning Department. He has a Master’s Degree in English Literature from UTSA and a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English from St. Mary’s University. He enjoys traveling, cooking (and eating), cycling, reading, writing, and funding Kickstarter campaigns but most of all basketball! He is currently in pursuit of his lifelong ambition to be an NCAA Division I Men’s Basketball Coach.
Poetry: Nereida Reyes
has been a staff member of the Rose R. Thomas Writing Center for fourteen years. She is a St. Philip’s graduate who received a Bachelor of Arts in English from the University of Texas at San Antonio. As a great grandmother, she still enjoys swimming, cooking, writing poetry, reading, and dismantling the myths embedded in America’s so-called generation gap.
Art/Photography: Mitchell Miranda
is an awardwinning artist, photographer, and graduate of St. Philip’s College. He holds a Bachelor of Arts in Studio Art and a Bachelor of Science in Cultural Anthropology from Baylor University; he received a Master’s Degree in Middle Eastern & Eastern Mediterranean Archaeology from University College London’s Institute of Archaeology and is currently a doctoral student at Reading University in England. His artwork has been exhibited at Baylor’s Martin Museum of Art and the Hill Country Arts Foundation where he was named a Texas Emerging Artist. When abroad, he FaceTimes his pet gecko, Little Man.
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Spring 2016