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Narcisism and Object Choice, published in the BJP, Volume3, Issue1, September 1986, Pages 60-64

A Poem by Morris Perlman

I do not want to be homogenised

Bleached of all humanity

I do not want to be infantilised

moulded to conformity.

For my mistakes I’ll pay the price

consequences I accept

I might not rest in paradise

but die I shall with self respect.


If love and care they have to spare and cannot find a victim waiting

why don’t they join a club, a class

or even try computer dating?

Or could it be that all their love

Is for a pre abstract humanity

an image of their own creation

bleached clean of all impurity. 

Not ordinary mortals like you and I

with many an aberration

with faults and warts

and weakness for temptation.


Beware, beware of those who care

they’re out to make you well.

To make you like the ones they see

so blinded by their spell.

And should they fail and cause you sorrow

their eyes will glint

they do not stint

they’ll try again tomorrow.

Beware, beware of those who care

they’re out to do you good. 

They search the world for those in need

the ones who never quite succeed

the ones in search of simple creed

the ones whose bodies have gone to seed.


But most of all they like to find the ones who keep denying

their need for aid, for love, and for continuous prying.

To help these victims of false perception

on them to lavish care

is like the immaculate conception

heavenly beyond compare.


The Grand Inquisitor he cared for souls

and that is quite commendable

for after all, a soul

is not easily expendable.

Could it be saved, should one refrain

because of transient bodily pain?

The tears keep rolling down his face

watching the iron maiden’s tight embrace.

The screams of pain are sad, but do not worry

they’re hushed by angels’ songs of god’s eternal glory.


The Mullah leads his boys to carnage

for god, for glory and his creed.

But don’t be sad for all the dead

their souls to paradise will speed.


All those who love humanity so

God bless all those

that for us, they are willing

to bate their qualms, to take up arms

and go on with the killing.


Eating, drinking, smoking, thinking

are all now under threat

beware each organ eyed

by those who pry and always fret.


You are too fat and that’s not good

we must do something about your food.

Your lungs are black from too much tar

we must restrain you from your cigar.

You drink too much and that is heinous

we’ll cut the hours and raise the price

until you are abstemious.

Your sex is queer not quite our kind

if you don’t stop you might go blind.

So please desist and change your scenes

or we will do it by other means.


You watch the nasties and read the porn

depravity is the price.

Through filth and muck for you we’ll wallow

to weed and prune and fig leaves dangle

so only pap you’ll have to swallow

without the slightest tingle.

You are confused your thoughts inane

they lock you up to make you sane.

It’s for your good they say with glee

as they throw away the key.

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