Monday, 1 December 2008

Confounded Bridge

1) A presentiment of the future; a foreboding
to warn in advance; old origins speak.
Fading precision, stark and oblique: ORNATE
11. Botany. Having unequal sides, as a leaf.

Hyperbolic, a literal rhetoric question:
I am deciduous, transient, hyperfluous?
Coniferophyta ringing of vita. Does it
last, where prime is secondary, arrival on
reprimand, an isosceles triangle. Polyquadtwist
command. A manifesto of circuits
plundering through space,
not ready to be heard, they sing atonal cautions.
Yes, they are bent,
in directions that do not direct,
obsessive ceramic derivative again---
Atlantian woman watches, poised in an elegant stance.

Stark rhyming mad* rendering Basho with echo
in an invisible canyon, a glowing green dominion,
where overt subtleties take on the taste of cherries.
I do believe in faeries, as a graphic actor in the crysis,
stumbled upon occidentally. Once, we were eastangular.
A wizard dunce, undeniably ambiguous,
with a metaphorical (forbidden) magic stick, a somnambulant warrior.

Basking in the flavour + of a sherry chorus
brought up by Horus + in a grave delight
a lamp in the winter + despite the warmth of wind

just as gamma rays continue to violate our brains, yesterday,
i remember when i got a metal splinter.

6. Physics. Magnetic field fortitude, (10-5) of an oersted ornate.
Magnetic flux density melts. Am I equal to one nanotesla.
Equal reluctance, parallel vacuums
as our continuum reflects and
drips on the bystanders.

-Eden Grey

* Stark mad was first recorded by poet John Skelton in 1489; stark raving was first recorded by playwright John Beaumont in 1648; stark staring mad was first used by John Dryden in 1693. The current wording, stark raving mad, first appeared in Henry Fielding's The Intriguing Chambermaid in 1734.

Friday, 28 November 2008

i just decoupaged this box yesterday

Monday, 24 November 2008



I can tell you why I am here
I can tell you why I’m resistant
I’m a non-stick spray
Flammable and combustible
I’m not a voodoo doll.
Washable, invisible as failed ignitions,
Premonitions of time past.

A capacitor, resistor, transistor
Refusing documentation.
My biometrics state
I do not in fact exist.

Eco-terror nightmares
My blood, was drawn, is clear
Withstanding the pressure of silent crowded streets
Where fire extinguishes our energy fights,
deterred by your white christmas lights.

Stay out of my way and out of my view!
I do not want to know you.
Do not cross my path, or you will feel the wrath
Of my blazing forcefield cutting through.
I will only repeat myself once, if that.
Stay out of my way! Stay out of sight.
Do not go past, access is denied,
if I may be obliged to monopolize.

Press this number for your language.
Your reference number will be required:
Please enter your PIN, and then please sign here.
(and don’t forget to read the fine print, which says:
“We cannot be held responsible for this equation.”)

An obsolete compass guides down a dirt road.
You walk down it with corrosive steps,
Nuclear lantern lighting the path.
It is found, your split particles emerged from
Where an atomic bomb was once tested.

A compact portal opens,
Ivy leaves compressed.
In an attempt to balance the elements’ symbols,
Water speaks to you, in waves:
I can tell you why I’m dust,
Even so, I do exist.
Science justifies why I resist;
Let me become warm with reason.

-Chelsea Bruno
November 24, 2008

Friday, 14 November 2008

wave conversations

A discourse of square waves
i can never escape myself
i take what you sing out of context
keep me sane, save me in heaven

let us converse in sine waves
let our vision become fluid for my spiraled
floor's sake---
let me not test my bones to see if they will break.

Come and see the weaving
i have done atop the lake
Down on the ocean's shelf,
our sea castle awaits.

An insulated seizure, blood running too thin
Finding one current, losing another
whisked away from the watch tower.
Time is on my side now,
i plan to hide somehow,
i blend in as a leaf, sprouting growing
green, see my veins
in ink
do not touch

i am a tree who leads.

Saturday, 8 November 2008


Our virtual life seems a reality
You are so near,
it makes you farther away.
How many times have people said
i am somewhere i don't want to be---
Having seen where i was, once,
complete, finely tuned in speech.
Every step is a solo
as my mind becomes a hollow sphere
I never want to be swallowed
by now, but to always look ahead
of time--> Apollo recognizes me,
these fruits of the generation i bear.
My whole surroundings become
a whirlwind, so much happens,
i disappear. I am not there, nor
am i here --- displaced within
that which i create.

Am i here, i disappear---

dr. eden

A radar deflector,
particle collider
i am dr.
a lot of conclusive
three black and white stripes
my eye cannot get
perspective right
speak again my muse
as i am absent from myself
my metal wings will take me
to the point of being seldom
always to return, no return
in this lack of words

cross encounter
moves the eye
backspace key

Clearword, moonshot

marbleflux, quarries, spheres

i like to twirl before i see
the empty of my snowy dreams

Thursday, 6 November 2008

just for the record...

i can't wait to graduate. i like to talk to myself sometimes, because there is no one else to talk to. but an essay i'm writing in spanish told me something interesting as i was writing it. the computer is always there to listen, and it never talks back. it does not really listen, rather chart occurrences (for instance, i just spelled that word "occurances" wrong three times, and the computer notified me of that) usually i am a very good speller. sometimes the computer thinks it is correcting you when it really is not. my essay in spanish, for example; since spanish is not the first language of MS word, every single word has a red or green squiggly underline. i, for one, cannot stand that squiggly underline! it ticks me off. i am wondering, and i always have, why the option to turn that 'feature' of MS word to the 'OFF' switch. because sometimes, it is of no help. like when you're writing an essay in a nother language. back it up computer, i love you, don't take this the wrong way, but don't tell me when to capitalize stuff, or when i'm misspelling stuff. it is very choosy.. it makes me think there might be a brain in there.
one thing my spanish essay addresses: how did man create something that is smarter than him? how are computers so perfect? why are the general 'they' trying to make robots have human emotions? robots will be useless to us when they become emotional wrecks and failures like the rest of us. not to say i am an emotional wreck or failure, but we all reach that point some time,

you know what i mean?


the computer (through the eyes of a frustrated eden)

Sunday, 2 November 2008

sunrise rave..

these people were cool, i like gathering random people around my car and blasting the music while ranting about my various mad topics of philosophy and music. she actually named me the spooky wizard. and i love seeing everyone wearing my hat.

i, the spooky wizard

my hat is so amazing... it gave me magical powers

the lighting in this place really set off your eyes.. hannah has decorated it wonderfully.

the bearded lady, and i, the spooky wizard

Sunday, 19 October 2008



phonetic translation of "Echoes" by Pink Floyd

Sonar red, the after moss sang, spokenless baton a share
Sand sleeps bequeathed the scrolling slaves in after-synths of stories saved
The beckoned love, a crisp abide
Sun silt below the loss of hands
Sand never brings its screen and subtle sheen
Sand spoken flowed, must of the land
Sand spoken blows, a stare floor spy
Luck come, bring blue sand come bring spies
Sand far to wind, for words, a flight

Danger crass, been in the beat
Die dance blue depth rate fancy heat
Sand, why can two sand, but fly three fizz we?
Sand, to fly, make through why, the land
Sand plead, to blue, the hands
Sand, tell see thunder grand, the test of man
Sand, open falls, thus blue groove song
Sand, spoken courses crown demise
Sand, so oblique
Sand blows, sun flies
Sand opens spies, the sound of one

Sound jest, severed way to call
A dawn, by shaking ties
Spin sight in sand, spin light ring free blue eyes
Sand strewn below, a pin the fall
Sun screaming spins on one flight spring
A killing sight, alas, adored of scorning
Sand, show one, see we full of nines
Sand spoken, shakes we, throws our spines
Know, below the cinders’ tide,
Sand falls a blue in moss, but why.

Monday, 29 September 2008





space is

o is clear
d saturated
e full
r is
is chaos
u equals
l fluency still

liquid solid


diagonal round


is crooked
is water
everything circles

Sunday, 28 September 2008


this is my trees as they looked originally in rusty metal.

this is what they look like when they stand upside down.

here's the trees with their soft blue aura.

this is the meaning of life!

Sunday, 21 September 2008


This has been a test by the EBS
And now back to you (insert name here)
I’m Eden Grey and I approve this message.

Sirens’ frequencies escalating wattage
A channel monopoly (its tirade, clear)
This has been a test by the EBS

These flashing subliminal images
Incorrect corrections (no reason to fear)
I’m Eden Grey and I approve this message.

Raising issues, we do encourage
Your point of view, we want to hear.
This has been a test by the EBS.

Mental kinesis, fractals to macro-manage
The cause and effect are jumping gears
I’m Eden Grey and I approve this message.

The ocean’s gates: let us begin the voyage
Riding currents through the years
This has been a test by the EBS
I’m Eden Grey and I approve this message.


Thursday, 18 September 2008


Embarking a port,
Returning from the spider kingdom,
Time warp envelope level turned down
by five hours, and then some.
Spiraling staircases of paper lanterns.

Speaking secret languages
Gauging my insight.
The chair is sideways and is more practical this way.
I’m a chocolate button covered with hundreds and thousands.

Intestines of a grand tree trunk
Laid before my eyes.
Synthetic clear cube, disposable, overgrown wax.
Compressor, plagued treasure, handcrafted, worldly eccentricity.
Empty, full – a minimalist explosion.
Turntable enthralled, compelled by a mystery
One year later, being solved.
Attracted to patchwork, abandoned illusions.

The spider on the floor befriended me, as it appeared out of thin air to my weary eyes,
Then it disappears; could have climbed under the wood support
The table top tree intestine sits upon.
I wonder if it was ever there; if it ever befriended me at all.

Mangled, Blue

thank goodness for Dave, who plays the cello
I was saved
and given pillows for my ears

my tongue is numb
i am a gypsy, got stolen from
my scarf is lost
my esther leather fur-lined gloves are gone
in the infirmary
for a minor injury
my finger is broke
mangled, blue
my skeleton glove is gone
two sinister tunes
in less than twenty four hours

i spit a trail of colored dewdrops walking toward Queens road.

i knew to push the button in this time around
these haunted fields holding captive
white noise as we pass

mangled, blue
now I have two red flourishes stifled, painted over in white
for which I would be found
a pear cider guilty

covered by globalization at its best, there is
something so different about this side of the world
i think it is mainly the trees
and the disappearance of my reflection
in the window
at this moment.

i miss Leicester...

and, of course, Dave.

as free as a tree... it is unfinished here. i don't know who the bloke is, but his shirt matches the color of the tree. i guess he was hitting up some shade. i got only this one photo of the tree without all the chalk. if it rains soon, i might get another.

my tree graffiti

the tree is spray paint.. everyone chalked it up at earthdance. give people chalk and a wall, and they will use it.
give me spray paint, and i will paint trees..

She came to life..

This Catlantian woman was looking directly at me. She looks like an aborigine, similar to the African lady in the Biomechanik video; I can barely believe I made her with my own hands.

Quantum Opinion

New languages approaching,
tree conversations. Collaged companions.
Cycled, sideways. Separately spaced.
Permanently erased. scribbled and traced.
See my span of time implode
as traveling backwards on the globe
Clashing with the earth's daytime face
days are longer, is it true
and do they realize
how much strain
comes from this magical concentration.
And so it were,
the lavender energy.
Proved me indeed to be a gypsy,
leaving impressions, gifts i'd been given
and not leaving without
what i had obtained.

So i tried to tell you again,
just as the test tries to trick.
I am nine, you are seven
gone back to my geyser, streaming light.
Mountains, only a year away.
Now a clearer, clouded day
Where sun is welcome, lost is found
the moon embraced, connected with
the ground. Frequencies stumble, stammering
in the ear, sirens similar
desensitizing shock. Spindled and soft.
Lost pieces of self. No attachment
needed, no explanation turquoise.

My quantum opinion,
relative to my forensic eyelids.
My pulsating pupils, i watch.

-Chelsea Bruno, August 2008

miami sunset.

i thought the cranes looked magnificent, similar to dinosaurs. the palm trees add a whole nother effect.. i do find them appealing in a sense of the word; they are like giant poppy flowers.

Friday, 22 August 2008

a pint of waggle-dance..

the weather is so lovely!

nice to be home.

home is wherever we are.
i am glad to have found a home in strings plucked so gently.

on the river...

i'm back now..

i'm losing it in the parallel universe, the monsoon rainforest..
tree clouds loom over the 6 lane highways.
from the airplane, miami looked like a giant carpark.
what is that phenomena about el avion?
i'm turning into a japanese latin mummy. an orange feline. a catlantian.

Sunday, 17 August 2008


1. People are fish that fly and play instruments when they want.

2. The sky moves diagonally depending on the axis of your interpretation of diagonals.

3. Meeting other worlds simultaneously can be educational, yet confusing, somehow, despite their collisions of banter.

4. Life moves around sideways in dimensions the we fail to comprehend.

-Eden Grey + Nick the Intellect

Wednesday, 2 July 2008

My bike is the most brilliant blue..

The pylons even look nicer over here..

Mural Paintings

These are the paintings I did in a bar called SUMO on Braunstone gate.