What Dread Beast Poem by Peter Rose

Rough Beast version 3 after many more revisions.
by peter rose

With apologies to W B Yeats

I do not care what rough beast
has his hour come at last,
Called to a desert feast
to break the souls long fast.
Moving towards Bethlehem;
I say I do not care, but I do a bit
way down my cloaken hem.
Some things it may be, just would not fit.

Such as politicians on the make
In faked up reality.
to feed the size, of their take.
All to hide what we must not see.
As long as it is not acclaimed
because we are not allowed the fee.
For those who think they are famed
never ask what any truth may be.



Or media vehicle of popularity
All shot in one long take,
to feed the cult, of celebrity.
Human kinds love of fake
emotions displayed on flicker screen
never felt with leaden heart
such mundane horror as normal seen
I hope dread beast, brings fresh start

As long as these fears of mine
be baseless as my rhyme
I will greet rough beast.
Which sure can ne’er be mortal
when joined at its feast.
He opens hells' vast portal
but if those gates are agape
Then we can all; escape.

Into the light of life we may run
away from darkness and disrepair
to a time and place of loving fun
free from hell's crushing care
Rough beast may be true
But I welcome him, don't you?