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    He's a Good Dog. (He just doesn't like you to laf.)
    He's a Good Dog. (He just doesn't like you to laf.)
    He's a Good Dog. (He just doesn't like you to laf.)
    Ebook334 pages2 hours

    He's a Good Dog. (He just doesn't like you to laf.)

    By Richard Lung

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    About this ebook

    The good dog (who first appeared in book 1 of this series) is among a tridogy of six turns of verse by Dafty Tailchaser.
    The first three sections are of children, animals and acting, following the WC Fields principle of not putting them together.
    Section four continues with satires on those actors, the politicians, having degenerated from representatives of the people to presentatives of what money and power want: more money and power.
    Section five contains poems of loneliness.
    A sixth section, for a little light relief, is a short essay on Proportional Representation for peace-making power-sharing.
    The novela of the boot boy closes the first section to a beachcomber collection of otherwise more or less short poems/pieces (163 on the last count).

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRichard Lung
    Release dateMay 6, 2016
    ISBN9781310282218
    He's a Good Dog. (He just doesn't like you to laf.)
    Author

    Richard Lung

    My later years acknowledge the decisive benefit of the internet and the web in allowing me the possibility of publication, therefore giving the incentive to learn subjects to write about them.While, from my youth, I acknowledge the intellectual debt that I owed a social science degree, while coming to radically disagree, even as a student, with its out-look and aims.Whereas from middle age, I acknowledge how much I owed to the friendship of Dorothy Cowlin, largely the subject of my e-book, Dates and Dorothy. This is the second in a series of five books of my collected verse. Her letters to me, and my comments came out, in: Echoes of a Friend.....Authors have played a big part in my life.Years ago, two women independently asked me: Richard, don't you ever read anything but serious books?But Dorothy was an author who influenced me personally, as well as from the written page. And that makes all the difference.I was the author of the Democracy Science website since 1999. This combined scientific research with democratic reform. It is now mainly used as an archive. Since 2014, I have written e-books.I have only become a book author myself, on retiring age, starting at stopping time!2014, slightly modified 2022.

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      Book preview

      He's a Good Dog. (He just doesn't like you to laf.) - Richard Lung

      He's a good dog.

      (He just doesnt like you

      to laf.)

      Table of Contents

      Never act with children or animals.

      WC Fields.

      part one:

      ...with children

      Isle of Lad

      this show

      charmed lives

      he whom truth sought (but never caught)

      paradise lost (to dipthongal scrumpers)

      one quarter of English

      half of English in 100 words

      half of English in 100 shorthand words

      Ulysses

      touch tabu

      enjoy your trip?

      or the bogeyman will get you

      the best days

      pin-cushion

      birds of ill omen

      the ten out of ten commandments

      feudalism on the brain

      rebels rebel

      do out the cages

      Bealby

      commercial artist

      a boot boy in the Great War

      1) flying a kite

      2) sloth skittles

      3) living is dying

      4) a family at war

      5) boot boy extraordinaire

      part two:

      ...or animals

      fall of the kallima butterfly

      self-dispersal

      swifts

      It is the day that says the fall

      wingers

      heroes and villains

      shadow play

      parrots Silver

      Tina

      formation fliers

      the hippo and the ibis

      in the wild

      cat call

      zebra crossing

      red-neck

      Snazzles on the run

      eek! eek!

      hibernation liberation

      performing seal

      llama lama

      on the third stroke...

      alter ego

      a tridogy in six turns

      by Dafty Tailchaser:

      arrest

      Charlie

      perfumed letters

      dog dusks

      dog nights

      he's a good dog (he just doesnt like you to laf)

      part three:

      never act...

      cavaliers and roundheads

      the wicked lady

      figure-head

      the old quay

      slipping off

      dances with wolves

      Shearer

      the mixed doubles

      Gone West

      gun law new deal

      Randolph Scott rides tall in the saddle

      misplaced labor

      out-cast

      the sunning

      we sell ourselves

      living death

      con-tests

      art deco

      Marilyn moral

      Monroe doctrine

      ice maidens

      to faktory horns

      psycho-pathe pictorial

      the flicks

      night of the long grass

      the cruel sea

      womb with a view

      77 sunset strip

      just a minute!

      unruly news-readers

      the house-bound actresses

      golden globe

      cafe of the blues

      danse violence

      hippy hippy hippo

      this sounding of the soul of man

      a girl has her standards

      the songster migrates

      Are you Charlotte Mew?

      transference

      Falstaffian Sir John

      Edwin the first

      the prompt

      re-maker

      lyric poet

      hope

      part four:

      the political malaise

      (safe seats)

      do something honest

      shadowed

      atomised

      exposure

      the secretarys secret

      the quarry

      Jack Im alright

      Andy Capp

      the political malaise (safe seats)

      the jingo vote

      dictator

      MIF

      the enemy within

      here at Westminster

      the wrong jumper

      the Scrounger report

      second interim report

      you also

      the queen of hearts

      unforgivable

      zek (pangram)

      ting-a-ling

      a print-out with you

      bulling the bill

      there is?

      the corporate state

      whom the gods...

      The magic circle

      I, voter. (Roll on STV, free voters PR.)

      three ages of women

      foal honesty

      part five:

      the lost

      off balance

      anyway

      flowers in their hair

      postgraduate work

      an unsocial sociologist

      building an ark

      in the lands of glimpsed windows

      the chair and the floor

      weather girls

      leaving friends

      way back

      the short not leading the shorter sighted

      balloon bags

      staging post

      tramp tippers

      driving man blues

      the clippie

      ecstasies

      between the lines

      at the station, the river of life

      a street-map for my sweet-heart

      the lost

      the day after she called

      Auwa, dea goyl

      strong love

      memorys neighbors

      not so

      so unsuspected was I...

      the fractals of rejection

      to the soirée...

      half of English in 100 words (re-ordered)

      half life

      Fourier waves

      the playing field

      the grave in the wood

      part six (short essay):

      Proportional Representation for peace-making power-sharing.

      notes

      acknowledgments

      after-word

      Guide to five volume collected verse

      by Richard Lung

      Guide to two more book series by the author:

      Commentaries series;

      Democracy Science series.

      He's a good dog.

      (He just doesnt like you

      to laf.)

      return to contents

      part one:

      ...with children

      Isle of Lad

      I possess a jig-saw puzzle

      whose box-lid picture is long since lost.

      Betimes, I shuffle thru the heap

      and odd piece tumbles out

      that has no neighbors Ive ever inter-locked

      into continents or peninsulas.

      It is a true island, no, an islet

      and I am on it as a boy

      age I'm not too sure

      and really dont want to know.

      That's the beauty of it. I am that isle

      I know not where in time and space.

      Oh, the place is in a hall

      with a row of trestle tables

      grazing the floor-boards with lowing noises

      like a trail of wooden cattle

      in a wooden field, bare of a wood.

      They are surrounded by a chatter

      of children, wearing party crowns

      over the remnants of a meal.

      It has been a long after-noon

      of -- can't remember what --

      games, I perhaps took part in,

      or, more like, was a wall-flower.

      In the corner, I stand apart

      watching no-one I know

      as far from them, then, as now.

      That may be why I'm still there.

      But there is a low tide of my mind

      that hazily connects this day

      to the main-land of my memory

      that holds a fatal fascination for this

      isles independence from things mundane

      tho, at the time, I knew

      this outing led to no-where.

      return to contents

      this show

      On my way home and almost there

      I was brought up by this person

      I vaguely realised was my mother

      donned and tweaked into out-door mode.

      We exchanged polite conversation

      about our opposite roads

      while my mind wandered from this show

      into fleeting consideration

      of the life she'd had to forego,

      how little I knew of personal loss

      and nothing of everyones

      destiny as our paths cross.

      charmed lives

      The three lead charmed lives like quarks

      confined by a seeming quantum

      dog snifs me out and barks "not one

      of us" to see-off who goes there.

      A firmly fixed cast-iron seat

      plays a trusty compass needle

      magneticly points the way

      into cloud chamber bay

      drawing me to its flawed glass.

      In diminishing size, four or five

      tracer bullets of boys live

      ammo shoot-up off the grass.

      Relentlessly wiry comes

      their mother escort from

      behind in a banking pass

      of a fighter on a buzzing run

      whose heedless deflection in front

      of but me says indeed this lass

      come before him and his fine view

      she's no time for a glance to.

      Envoy:

      The classical observer

      little affects the observed.

      The quantum observer

      deflects the observed.

      he whom truth sought

      (but never caught)

      The man-ape they supposed nature selected

      had an old Adam by science elected.

      His knighted rum skull,

      not for Darwins numskull,

      seemed at last the issue corrected.

      His missing link was the ancestor

      made monkeys of many a professor.

      Sir, in his last dig,

      Piltdown jawed I'm a rig!

      Carbon-dated belated confessor.

      Paradise Lost

      (to dipthongal scrumpers).

      Serpent: ei, ir. (Eyh, 'ere.)

      Eve: e? (Eh?)

      Serpent: aa...aa… (Ah…ah…)

      Eve: ou! (Oh!)

      Eve to Adam: ^…^… (Uh…uh…)

      Adam: y! (Eeh!)

      Adam & Eve: w! (Ooh!)

      Serpent: i-i i-i-i (He-he he-he-he.)

      God: oi! (Oyh!)

      Eve to Adam: u^r. (Ooer.)

      Adam to God: ^r, ui? (Errh, we?)

      God: ai, iu. (Ayh, you.)

      Adam & Eve: au! (Owh!)

      God: Begone scrumpers!

      Paradise Lost!!

      Adam & Eve: !?!?

      God: Wwc! (Woosh!)

      Adam & Eve: o^ (Awh!)

      One quarter of English

      That the I be in and of an it

      return to contents

      half of English in a hundred words

      Since man has been made

      for how much its time

      can he or she go on

      as we are from here?

      A them-and-us will not do.

      Then the one, well up,

      shall have most there is,

      so an-other, than him, had

      no-thing but be thru with it all,

      which some must now,

      til who two would, where could,

      come to good, that was his

      tho her own, by what you said,

      when their might may yet see out

      my of your right even our such,

      they, too, at first just, were in

      after, if only about: why should I

      like those new over me any more?

      Half of English in 100 (short-hand) words

      Sns mn v bn md,

      f4 q mc ts tm

      kn h or c g on,

      z w b, fr hr?

      a e-n-u l nt do.

      3n, 3 1, wel p,

      v mos e b,

      s a-o3, 3n h, hd

      no-3ng bt b 3r w3 i ol,

      tc sm ms na,

      tl w 2 d, wr kd,

      km 2 gd, 3t bn hs,

      30 r 0n, b wt y sd,

      wn 3e mt m8 yt sy qt

      m, 0 yor, rt yn qr sc,

      38, tw, at 1st j, bn in

      af, if onl abt: w1 d 1

      lk 3os nw ov m en m4?

      Code hints:

      b = be, am, is, are.

      0 = ou (owe/oh)

      1 = I/ai (as in aisle)

      2 = to

      3 = th (and the)

      4 = or

      Ulysses

      The mallard line flying-boats

      skimmed the lake sparkle

      eyed a toddler in their wake.

      He held the pretty pets

      in rapture with arms out-

      stretched to make a capture.

      His face shone doomed liners

      deck-tipping slide as climb

      and fall stars from the skies.

      A careless tug on his harness

      link sobered the tot back

      from the brink. Passion spent

      only in bondage, Ulysses

      the pert took these quack

      Sirens for a free concert.

      touch tabu

      Her clouded blue eye

      cornered a half-Earth

      seen from the Moon.

      This wrapped tot

      in a cosy bonnet

      trembling pretender

      to a tea-pot pouring

      fingers on seated knee

      she fixed orbit

      on a jolting bus.

      Returned to Earth

      mother shakes anchor

      from honored guest

      meant no personal

      slight in guarding

      off-spring from aliens.

      return to contents

      enjoy your trip?

      At kid kamikaze pilots, parents blaze:

      Look where youre going! Mind out of the way!

      Pavement railings, holding he4ad-long escapes

      from school, are memorials to their stray.

      A small face glimpsed, intent on blunder,

      turns in on me. Mum name-screeches at him.

      My hands sandwich-board his chest and back

      into a pivot for my global spin.

      As inertia of oceans more slowly feels

      Earths momentum, force, transfered

      from a sudden stop, waves up my spine

      to hurl me by a window, hands first

      onto the piss water-marked flag-stones

      currency notes that pass from foot to foot.

      Back to babyhood crawl in the dirt,

      I stagger-up off without backward look.

      Neither mother nor child spoke a word.

      Give me a lever and I can move the world.

      or the bogeyman will get you

      Dont run out onto the road!

      Look both ways before you go.

      You're small for drivers to see in range.

      Dont accept lifts from strangers.

      Dont accept sweets from strangers.

      Dont let yourself be grabbed hold of. Danger!

      Keep with plenty of other children

      when not looked-after; dont be hidden.

      Dont go off on your own, near or far,

      where no-one knows where you are

      and no-one can help you

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