The Sunday Song Poem #10 ‘Peace and Love (Blind Man’s Penis)’ Ramsey Kearney

Ramsey Kearney

Ramsey Kearney

Not having posted last week I feel an obligation to do so today, and as such feel as though I’m phoning-this-in somewhat, so it’s only fitting as we enter double figures for The Sunday Song Poem that we acknowledge, celebrate, or otherwise just get-out-of-the-way what is perhaps be considered both the Daddy and red headed stepchild of the whole phenomenon.  I’ve had a strained relationship with Ramsey Kearney‘s ‘Peace and Love’ (aka ‘Blind Man’s Penis’), stemming mostly from the fact that I long believed this to be as precious an exhibit of insanity as was evident in the last instalment, only to be enlightened by ‘Off The Charts: The Song Poem Story’ as to the fact that this particular song’s lyrics were intentionally so gorked.

The Song Poem equivalent of a crank call, ‘Blind Man’s Penis’ was sent to song poem company ‘Nashco’ by an 18 year old John Trubee, cosseted and being slowly asphyxiated in the navel lint of the bulbous and crusty gut of American consumerism. Trubee would scribble surreal and obscene daydreams “…out of sheer boredom and homicidal frustration as I labored as a cashier in a convenience store in Princeton, New Jersey, in 1975. I’d scribble some poems and weird phrases on a legal pad to vent my seething anguish. Writing on the job was a kind of self-invented therapy to prevent the onset of mental illness due to occupational stress and severe teenage alienation.” …eventually this catharsis garnered the seminal sentence that would result in the most notorious of all song poems.

trubeefoto

John Trubee

“Stevie Wonder’s penis is erect because he’s blind”

The following year, Trubee would pick up a copy of the Midnight Globe, and discover in the back pages’ ads a dangling hook from Nashco. Thinking to himself how funny it would be to “…send these people the most ridiculous, stupid, vile, obscene, retarded Iyrics to see their response”, Trubee expanded on his Stevie wonderings, ‘extending’ it into a verse-chorus-verse structure and mailing it out. Their reply wasn’t the ‘Dear John’ letter he expected…

“Dear John,
We have just received your lyrics and think they are very worthy of being recorded with the full Nashville Sound Production. … I am enclosing a contract of acceptance. Please sign and return along with $79.95 to cover the cost for each song to be completed …”

Barring the mention of Stevie Wonder (for legal reasons, presumably) the dirty deed was done and its slovenly progeny appears below for your delectation. As I said, my discovery of the premeditation of these lyrics sullied my enjoyment somewhat in intervening years, but the more I discovered about the intent, the less I felt I could justify such resentment.

“You, too, Mister Composer/Musician, can put out records if you bother to go to the trouble of sending obscene lyrics and suicide notes through the U.S. Postal Service, as I did. The obsolete and reactionary machinery of the music industry needs the irreverent pranks of ugly outsiders if it’s to survive its rapidly calcifying descent into hermetically sealed grayness and keep alive a spark of that rebellious, independent, antiestablishment spirit of rock ‘n’ roll!” ~ John Trubee

I got high last night on LSD
My mind was beautiful, and I was free
Warts loved my nipples because they are pink
Vomit on me, baby
Yeah Yeah Yeah.

Stevie Wonder’s penis is erect because he’s blind
It’s erect because he’s blind, it’s erect because he’s blind
Stevie Wonder’s penis is erect because he’s blind
It’s erect because he is blind

Let’s make love under the stars and watch for UFOs
And if little baby Martians come out of the UFOs
You can fuck them
Yeah Yeah Yeah.

The zebra spilled its plastinia on Bemis
And the gelatin fingers oozed electric marbles
Ramona’s titties died in hell
And the Nazis want to kill everyone.

(Mark E Smith educates Adam Buxton and Joe Cornish)

Chester Whelks

Chester Whelks

Chester Whelks is a peripheral figure on the fringes of existence. Predominantly bothering the local music scene of his native Manchester, England, he has a very finely attuned Justice-button, and knows how to call a spade a ‘Multi-Purpose Murder/Concealment Device’.

3 Responses to The Sunday Song Poem #10 ‘Peace and Love (Blind Man’s Penis)’ Ramsey Kearney
  1. www.rickygao.com Reply

    It could be a nice valuable little bit of facts. I’m just thankful that you just discussed this handy details about. You need to continue being people up-to-date like that. Many thanks for spreading.

  2. Shawn C. Baker Reply

    And you know, now that I’ve listened to it once, it A) Reminds me of my beloved Jim Reeves and thus, B) will be running through my head, demanding to be played over and over again for the rest of the day.

    Yeah yeah yeah

  3. Shawn C. Baker Reply

    Underrated lyrical genius. I mean, come on:

    “And if little baby Martians come out of the UFOs – You can fuck them – Yeah Yeah Yeah.”

    Pure fucking poetry!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>

Translate