JordiScrubbings.com » Poetry

See The Freak (John Merrick)

Jordi Scrubbings — Thu, 09 Sep 2010 03:19:13 +0000

(Here is a poem I wrote a few years ago. It is, of course, directly influenced by The Elephant Man.)

Help me. My master has put me in the cage again. The monkey screams. The darkness always envelops me. A freak. The monster I am. People come from miles around. I am educated. My deformity makes them think otherwise. Help me. I am a man. The master makes his money. I see it. I help him, yet he gives nothing to me. He lives, not concerned with me. But I provide for him. Ungrateful. I am shuffled to the side. I am sick. Dying. Please, please help me.

I AM NOT A FREAK!!

I am a human being.

He looks ill. Pathetic. I wonder how his life has been. How is the life of a circus freak? That can’t be a politically correct term. His sad eyes connect with mine, sending the pain of a lifetime of misery. His master doesn’t look very compassionate. Does he care more about the man or the money the man brings in for him? Others are disgusted, I’m saddened. He does not deserve this life. There is nothing any man could have possibly have done to be treated like he is. Can I save him? Someone should.

Google and Facebook poem

Jordi Scrubbings — Wed, 18 Aug 2010 03:51:50 +0000

Here is a poem about Google and Facebook. Feel free to put it to rhythm and make a song.

Facebook and Google like to know where you are
Facebook and Google see you driving your car

Facebook and Google know where you were born
Facebook and Google know when you’re lookin at porn

Facebook and Google know when I have mail
Facebook and Google know when I post bail

Facebook and Google can track what you send
Facebook and Google found your 9th grade girlfriend

Facebook and Google want to know what I think
Facebook and Google want to know what I drink

Facebook and Google want to know when I pee
Facebook and Google you are scaring me

Facebook and Google please leave me alone
Facebook and Google please get out of my phone

Facebook and Google oh can’t you see
That my P-R-I-V-A-C-Y is priceless to me

That last line is a shout-out to Pearl Jam, by the way.

Straight Outta AA Part II

Jordi Scrubbings — Wed, 23 Jun 2010 04:18:02 +0000

(Like many artists, writers, and creative geniuses, I have tons of unpublished material filling up binders, boxes, folders, and file cabinets. These vary from ideas to notions to poems to half-written stories. Every once in a while, I’m going to dust one off and publish it here. This is Part 2 of a two part poem written in 2002. See part 1 here.)

Six days now I’ve been free

On the run

Clinging to my newfound freedom

Small towns disappear, reappear

The road leads me further

Their “brainwashing” failed

A bottle of whiskey

My traveling friend

But I know I need more

I need someone real

I stall in a small neighborhood

Stopping risks capture

But I have to find my past

Try to make her my future

Together forever

The beautiful girl

Pounce like a lion to its prey

To be alone with her

But it is not her I want

I give her something for her mother

An invitation to dinner

I continue driving

Waiting for a response

I know I’ll be rejected

But I carry on

Running from Alcoholics Anonymous

Straight Outta AA Part 1

Jordi Scrubbings — Tue, 22 Jun 2010 05:10:40 +0000

Gotta keep running

Lead the fugitive’s life

On the lam

Can’t tell me what to do

Can’t change me

Jimmie and Frankie

Great guys

Sprung me from the joint

Into the cold night air

I’m gonna run to the other side of town

The rundown bar

Belly up

Holler for a brew

Barley and hops never tasted so good

I needed this for a long time

Couldn’t drink in the joint

Part of the punishment

Cheers to Freedom

and to hell with Alcoholics Anonymous

The Left-Handed Revolution

Jordi Scrubbings — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 06:53:27 +0000

Here is a poem I wrote about left-handed people striking out against their right-handed oppressors. Being left-handed is something I’m proud of and I try my best to carry on the legacy of the great lefty geniuses, generals, and gentlemen who made jive-turkeys genuflect from July to June.

¡Viva la Revolución de los Zurdos!

(The Rising of the Left)

Round up the troops!

Call all volunteers!

No longer will we be sinister,

backwards,

or goofy-footed!

Left-handed People!

Descendants of Ehud (Judges 3:27),

the killer of a king,

ruler of the Chosen People,

We Shall Rise Again!

Oppressed in a “right” society for too long.

We are outcasts.

Scissors, can openers shall no longer puzzle us.

We’ll redesign the rifles

so shells no longer scar our cheeks!

We will let the fighting spirit of Napoleon,

Caesar, and the Great Alexander guide us.

With the intellect of Ford, Einstein, and Benjamin Franklin

to our credit,

We shall not fail!

With 32 million nationwide,

we are outnumbered,

but organization can defeat population!

Start with secret handshakes.

Plans will be encoded in conversation.

Decoded only by the “right” side of the brain.

We must claim our own land!

Beat the hands of the noncompliant

with wooden sticks

as they beat ours so long ago!

So let us take a stand!

Fight this war to be Free!

¡Viva la revolución de los zurdos!

Post script: Perusing the ‘net, there is one other site that uses the term “left-handed revolution“. Unfortunately, they don’t talk about ceasing power. They do however make the very insightful claim that “left-handed people may be the most secretly oppressed people in the world”.

How absolutely true.

A poem about Jordi Scrubbings

Jordi Scrubbings — Sun, 24 Jan 2010 07:01:11 +0000

(Like many artists, writers, and creative geniuses, I have tons of unpublished material filling up binders, boxes, folders, and file cabinets. These vary from ideas to notions to poems to half-written stories. Every once in a while, I’m going to dust one off and publish it here. Here is a poem about the name “Jordi Scrubbings”.)

I created my alias in January 1999.

Jordi from that little French baby

who appeared on MTV in the early 90s.

Scrubbings from Dick Scrubbings,

a guy my friend Chris played in a talk-show we made.

Jordi became a character in a home movie as well.

Flash vs. The Aliens: The Earlier Adventures of Flash Hercules (coming soon)

Together Jordi and Flash (again played by Chris)

worked for ANUS

(the Alien Neutralizing Underground Society).

Protecting the world from the Hartoonians and ANAL

(the Anti-Neutralizing Alien League)

and their attempt at planetary takeover.

Now Jordi is my online persona.

An instant message screen name

and a From label on outgoing emails.

Most of my friends know its me,

but Amazon, Yahoo, Google, and the world have no clue.

The other day Jordi talked a little trash

to my 15-year old cousin.

He had no clue who it was

and called me a faggot.

I told him if he knew who he was talking to

he wouldn’t have said that.

Then I told him to tell his mom I said hi.

Happy New Year from Jordi Scrubbings

Jordi Scrubbings — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 06:11:46 +0000

Before we welcome in a new decade (my 5th!), I’d like to take a brief moment for reflection and remembrance with a Zen koan by Ryokan:

Another year lingers to an end;
Heaven sends a bitter frost.
Fallen leaves cover the mountain
And there are no travelers to cast shadows on the path.
Endless night: dried leaves burn slowly on the hearth.
Occasionally, the sound of freezing rain.
Dizzy, I try to recall the past-
Nothing here but dreams.
- Ryokan (1758?-1831)

This is the second time I’ve posted this koan. The first was at the end of 2006 as a part of my last post of my first year of blogging. That post also contained several haikus on what I thought was going to happen in the world of sports in 2007. For those curious, I got 3 of 11 right. I guess on the physic scale I am more Miss Cleo than Edgar Cayce.

In case you are curious, among my amazingly incorrect predictions were that the NFL Network would go under (nope, still going strong), Shaquille O’Neal would retire (4 years and 2 teams later he is still active), and hockey would be back on ESPN (still on Versus, still not seen outside of Canada).

Oh well, Happy New Year!

(Pic acquired from the blog A Swedish Alien in California.)

Kitchen Revolution

Jordi Scrubbings — Tue, 29 Dec 2009 06:13:25 +0000

Here is a little poem I’ve been noodling with over the last week. Something random.

Kitchen spatulas

Attack like tarantulas

Spare only neighborhood treasurers

Their spouses locked in slaughterhouses

Banging for help in the code of Morses

General spoons riding in on horses

Phlebotomists tangle with solutions

Nooses tied around the handles of knives who doth protested

The damnation of dalmatians

While those bitten by Siamese kittens

Could only count the scars.

Pots and pans lay the groundwork

Microwaves keep the frequency

Communications flow easily

Through comparable components used to cooperation

Can openers slice their way past defenses

Soulless toasters dance to the rhythm in sequences

Victory employed coroners

The result of woks whacking their owners

Business was good the day

Mixers, whiskers, and egg beaters turned the tables

And revolted against the eaters.

Note: after finishing this poem, I googled “spatulas”. Apparently the Internet is a strange place and I am not the only one inspired by the idea of violent kitchenware. Check out the movie Spatula Madness. It is about a group of spatulas who fight giant wooden spoons. Although not quite the animated version of my poem, it is close enough for me to know “Kitchen Revolution” will never be turned into the next Avatar.

Oh well.

T’was the Monday after Christmas

Jordi Scrubbings — Mon, 28 Dec 2009 09:01:52 +0000

T’was the Monday after Christmas, and all through work
No one wanted to be there, but the boss was a jerk.
He told me to be in the office on time and not a minute late,
Or else my employment would meet an horrible fate.

I sat in my cubicle staring at my screen,
While thoughts of Christmas still filled my dreams.
Although I couldn’t, I wanted to tell everyone about my new toys,
But I knew the boss would yell if I made a noise.

Damn The Man.

That poem is a work in progress. Anyway, I hope everyone had a great holiday. I definitely did.

A few highlights:

Ate some homecooking
Got a few CDs that will definitely make my upcoming Top 10 of 2009 list
Spent time with my nephew, the great Cancun Scrubbings
Read an absolutely brilliant holiday ode to Waffle House
Watched Emmet Otter’s Jug-Band Christmas and the Phineas and Ferb Christmas Vacation Special
Played Wii Bowling and Wii Golf for the first time ever. And kicked butt.
Received a new Hooters Calendar for the 15th year in a row

(By the way, a question on the 2010 Hooters Calendar. How is there only one girl from Tampa in the whole calendar? It was almost like the Hooters people went out their way to deny Tampa proper representation. I wonder if there is a quota on where the girls are from. Unfortunately, the Hooters Calendar web site does not have a searchable archive like the Maxim Hometown Hotties page. Hooters people, you need to get on that.)

Unfortunately, although I did beg and plead Santa, and even though it is for sale, the Astrodome was not under my tree. Nor the Silverdome. Nor the Alamo Dome. Not even Olympic Stadium.

All I want is a place to call my own, is that too much to ask for?