The Works of Brynne Marin

Once thought I life be dark shades of shadow; Pondering a bane abhorring color, But whisk’d, I stood to tip on a plateau, Life rocked and tilt’d me; I lacked valor, I fell; falling, I glimpsed a world too sweet, One taste: mind crashed huge waves of confusion, Sight bore thou gleaming in quaint waves of heat; Thy hair a rainbow: surely delusion? And suddenly the grey tint fled my view, Lovely as lights flash on thy crystal gaze, My world held splashes of color anew, I perepend’d it a dream shroud in haze, Until I glanced at thee once more, I see, I have fallen still for the heart of thee.

The Conquests of the Spanish Conquistadors: For the Greater Good? In 1492, the renowned explorer, Christopher Columbus, reached the sandy shore of Hispaniola and kick-started the great Era of Exploration encouraging more Spanish explorers to voyage to the Americas. These explorers, dubbed conquistadors , journeyed to four parts of the Americas: the Caribbean Islands, Central America, the Mainland, and finally, northwestern South America. Although they weren’t always the kindest conquerors, their accomplishments were commonly for the greater good. First, the Spanish routes to the Americas first directed the conquistadors to the Caribbean Islands. The conquistadors, like Columbus, had many reasons to travel there, such as for the attainment of gold, slaves, and fame, and the mere call of curiosity. All of these hopes were achieved, and the settlements they established were the beginning of settlements soon to cover half of the Americas. Although their colonization of these islands was...

"Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead" - A Poem Based on the Movie (Based on the Play) Movie (and Play) Directed and Written by Tom Stoppard Poem by Brynne Mittleider The flip of a coin: an endless pattern of heads Never to show tails it may seem The water spirals in an endless cycle, A whirlpool at the start? While beyond is a journey The storytellers met The foretelling foretold The conflict beginning to rise The waves gain force Power has risen! Discoveries are made in the distance Important, though not does it seem That much heed is paid from the skeptic To the discoverer… Further on the horizon the skeptic and the discoverer search Until- He is found! He is watched! He is questioned… Does the placement of weight on this man’s shoulders mean he must be made dead? His wonders… His sorrows… His common question: to be or not to be? A voyage across waters has begun With the discoverer and the skeptic labelled as esc...

Every world a step away, A step I cannot take, My feet are sinking Into the sand But I have too much to wait, So I try to walk, I try to leap, I try to move an inch, But a weight still keeps my feet in place, And my feet it's starting to pinch, The pain increases, I have to move, I fall unto the ground, and With my hands I pull the sand Screaming without a sound, But still, I cannot reach my dreams, Still, to no avail, I'm Screaming, hurting, moving not But they musn't hear my wails.

I love her love, as her love flows through me, Like a river running, and never ceasing, and never rushing: Her love is steady, and heals me as it streams, Her love shapes her eyes and her tender heart, (She is beautiful.) Her love cushions my heart when it breaks and joins the pieces to reunite them, and her love flows from her heart and replenishes mine so that never will I cry without her, Her love kisses my cheek, Her love fells my desperation, Her love encourages my belief, A mother’s love is beautiful.

My sister has a broken hand, so broken it cannot write, and like a house without a door, she’s a bottle with a cap too tight: Waves rise within her, and crash against her skin, and when her hand cannot release it, through her mouth words explode from within. Friendly eyes become unsure, and smiles turn to frowns, and when the hurting hurts too much, her tears fall ‘till the sun goes down. My sister has a broken hand, one once used to write, and now the sea of emotion rises, and she drowns without a light.