Morpheus Abagnale – Welcome to Disturbia by The Lightroom Poets

Morpheus Abagnale – Welcome to Disturbia by The Lightroom Poets

September 2, 2012 Off By Lightroom Poets

Nothing like the name suggests
Actually, a bit … yes
My dreams, for you are nightmares
A raped mind with a human face




The moods of some people appear to be in two shades at all point of time- black and white. As for color, the only sense of color filters through when they slit their hands. Deep blotches of red drops mingle with the nightmarishly grey sobriety and you see them slowly turn colorful but not something beautiful. It changes them to something more hideous than they previously were.



Fuming inside
Annoyed with self
I refused to be helped
The poison of smoke
On which I choke
And the cigarette lit
Ending myself, bit by bit …





You however cannot even bother to care for they are not a part of your life. I am like one of these people. Yours one and truly; Morpheus Abagnale. The person, who lives next door, never says hello when he brushes past you and is probably the first one to pay the rent. It is not strange that a person like this would choose to end it all and just vanish in the thin air, because living is not a big thing to people like him.




From the cross to ashes
From glasses to smoke
Enraged by red
Black nights I soak



I have these mood shifts. These passing shifts of insomnia, where I look at the cob webs of my ceiling as the sweat slowly trickles down my throat. It is very uncomfortable. I try to move on to happy things, things that will finally let me sleep. If I could just hang on to one of them, I just might fall into sleep.  Like this one time I killed a dog. I was 15 years old then. It was the neighbors’. It yelped a lot as I choked him over with the barbed wire.



Ash, ash and white
My sorry plight
A homeless road
And roadless I
Oggling at you
As you die …



The barbed wire cut through my skin and went right in. but I held on to his throat, I just wouldn’t let him go. I held onto him until the blighters tongue rolled over. I remember digging its grave. I can see that part of the garden where the dog’s body I hid in the cold damp earth. The neighbor- Mrs. Dinkins must have really loved that dog. She cried as if her heart would break when she realized her dog was lost forever. What a silly thing really!



Insomaniac rants
Scribbles on a page
The inner maniac screams
In a muffled rage

Still no sleep for me…


I slowly came up to realizing that I liked to dominate and have control over things. I was a weakling and the bullies would make it a point to beat me up if I did not listen to them. One day I followed one in their group, someone who gave me a black eye and a missing tooth. I held that against him. Now all anger in my body was waiting to see his blood. A taste, of his fear, of his body cowering in front of me.  A ‘Red letter day’ for me ! My first human pray ! So say’s my Diary entry, dated : 31/08/1997.



Eye for an eye
A scream for a cry
Revenge in a jar
To heal my old scar…



It was a beautiful day, one of my happiest days. Shaun Matthews’s body was found trashed in a recycle bin with his eyes gauged out. I still have those eyes hidden in a jar. I sometimes look at them. It brings back smile in my face.



And then she walked in
With the mocking grin
In place
Scared of her, was I
As was in love, with her face ..




There was love too in my life. Angela was a nice girl, she had those lips; those mocking lips. I just loved her but those lips would mock me all the time. She just wouldn’t get me that I loved her so much. That I just wanted to give her freedom from this bad mean world. Nobody does you know. I just wanted her every bit, every bit to be mine. She wouldn’t get any of it.


Pain as mistress, is pretty bold
Although she would
Never let me hold
Her hair, and I
To lose myself in her
Would die …



So I had to resort to my special skills. Tried killing her … Tried my best to make it as painless as possible. But for some strange reason, even though she didn’t feel a thing, it pained ME for the first time… and like any other ‘feeling’, it enraged me.  For the first time in my life, I failed to take a life….. may be because it was my own!


My Trophie room, this is
And my future aims
My ‘dear departed’ kills
My ‘would be’s and their names …



There were several others I had wasted. My old boss, the delivery guy, that fat Mr. T. Ruth. They were all different ‘reasons’ for me. But they all failed to understand how they wronged me. But now, I have Angela.



Taking a back seat
Although still in dark
Dreaming of reality
Reality is stark

As she prevails …




Like a creature of the dark, I stare at her white flesh. Not caring if she knows how it all will end. But knowing how it will end, never made a difference it me. This is something I had to do. I’m an addict,.. and my addiction draws me closer as I cry and try to run away… She came to take my darkness, but I, am taking her lights away.



I wonder why
She cried, when she smiled
Like the sky
She sighed and rained
She just smiled, and cried
And wained …



She knows. She knows how this ends… and it kills me !  Trying to make out, if she cried knowing how it ends for her , or how it ends for me ? The sticky darkness has finally crept into my blood and it won’t let me believe that she cried knowing how things end for me.



And still the angel prayed
As the pain weighed
Down on her chest
When Morpheus finally rests

Her lips parted to say
“Rest in Peace, you may..”



When all these memories flock around in my mind and not so strangely only Angela remains in the end. As the first rays of the sun shimmered on a single dangling thread from a cob web that was …. I felt my eye lids turning to stone and I ….


Lightroom Poets Creative Team:-

Poulami Bhattacharya

Keya Mukherjee

Anish Chakraborty

Anustup Saha

Roudra Mitra

Muktobrinda Dash

Saurabh Som

Rahul Roychowdhury


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