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Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

It was a warm summer night in LA, August ’69,
A single night of infamy and psychic darkness for mankind.
Sharon Tate was close to fulfilling her empty outcries,
when the night burned its cloak in the sunrise.

Earlier before dawn, a quiet eerie breeze came alive
and kept blowin’ down the canyon to 10050 Cielo Drive.
A night so quiet, you could almost hear the sound of ice,
rattling in cocktail shakers in the homes of celebrity paradise.

The canyon walls came alive with eerie echoes.
Blood-curdling screams and cries of “Please don’t, Oh, God No”
Several were listening, no one saw a thing.
It happened so suddenly, so sudden without warning.

Red sky in the morning, Shepherds beware,
Bad news at the front door, “Blood, bodies everywhere”
Sharon Tate and four others tangled in a pig-slaughtering spree.
Spilled blood staining the walls with words for all to see.

Fear and panic swept through Hollywood
from the seaside bungalows to the canyon neighborhoods.
Oh, Mercy Mercy, “whats going on”?
Talk to me Marvin, C'mon talk to me, tell me what's going on.

A devil in disguise, in the city of angels, where did it go?
Ask Dennis, a beach boy, he should know.
Business is business, death to that scoundrel,
Psychotic revenge is psychotic revenge, and it’s murder so brutal.

Charles Manson a.k.a. the devil, found hiding in plain sight,
posing as a peace-loving hippie with a thousand faces.
The day they captured him, he said to me, "Boy, I am the Devil
and the End-Times have just only begun".

The flower-power-Era, once eight-miles high, now in a slide.
The sacred store lost its soul when love and peace died.
The soul of a nation slowly eroding, torn away with evil.
Lennon could only imagine, living in a world safe and peaceful,
Manson flashes the Jury the LATimes,
front page headlines,“Manson Guilty, Nixon Declares,”
Hold on Mr President, tell me no lies,
take me back to My Lai to the scene of that massacre.

Casey Kasem, Kiss FM, fills the airwaves with passion,
sending psychic vibes to all God’s children.
play me some songs, Casey Kasem,
Play me the Beatles White album,
Play me “Revolution” and play me ”Helter Skelter”

Last few words: 
This poem details the Tate Murders and the cultural impact it had. It also mentions people, places. and events that occurred afterwards. The beginning of a slow decay of a nation which has brought us to where we are today as a nation.
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content


Hi wkamen, this is very good. Brave of you to write about that horrible massacre.
I remember the news very well, it spread all over the world. Sharon Tate was so beautiful, a terrible tragedy. The title, content and spacing is perfect, also good end rhymes.
You haven't mentioned Kurt Cobain.
I'll return to read again, best, Gracy

"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

like the reach into "Eight Miles High" by the Byrds... Manson was indeed the devil, however I wouldn't compare him to My Lei, which was all too sadly human. I like your piece.

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Wow this is amazing. I felt as if i had been swept into the poem. I could feel the breeze and see the sunrise. I felt in the moment. Thanks so much for this wonderful work.
(P.S is my pic upside-down for anyone)


Thanks Viviana Smith for looking in and your kind comments !!!

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