My Recent Cartoons 

 CLICK on any image for much GREATER & more MAGNIFICENT detail.

My Poetry




The Events depicted in this story are fictitious. Any similarities to person living or dead is merely ‘coincidental’. NOT!


Prime Minister Leech announced in a speech, ‘The average person spent more than they earned’. The politicians were concerned about the news they had just learned. The government takes a quarter of what the average person makes. Then they waste it on silly mistakes. Journalist told, ‘Every year, £900 taxed from each household, had financed projects that aren’t properly controlled.’ A Dome, Olympics, NHS and roads are where some of that money went. As the costs soar and all the money was spent the government searched for more. A snow tax, internet tax and a tax for the dead are thoughts that went through the PM’s head. A tax to eat, a tax to sleep, a tax to sit on the toilet seat were other ideas said. A tax for dreams, for birth and sex and a tax for what you have read on this sheet are ideas that could come instead.


The average person is £33 000 in depth. The Economy’s under threat and politicians show insincere regrets. MP’s are happy to ignore the fact their country has a spending flaw. The tax system is ‘shambolic’ when you have a PM who is a ‘spendaholic.’


The average household income is £25 000 a year. This statistic is queer. The MP’s are out of touch because the majority of workers don’t earn that much.


The phrase, ‘Practice what you preach,’ meant nothing to Prime Minister Leech. Some of the tax funded government snacks. Prime Minister Leech thought that the ‘Credit Crunch’ was a bar of maize that people liked to munch. Perhaps it was the latest cereal craze. So what’s the point of having jobs when what you earn the government robs?


So let us applaud the tramp. He does not live with negative equity. Sure he lives on the street and does not have shoes on his feet, stinks of alcoholic drinks and when he says what he thinks it may not make sense when he speaks. The tramp that has nothing may have something. He is free of debts and is not taxed on any money he gets.


When politicians quote, ‘It’s time for change’, ask yourself what they really mean. Keep your change in your pocket and hold onto your wallet because their dream will wipe your bank account clean. Behind the politician’s charm there is a tax farm.

Brahms and Liszt.


Brahms likes deep meaningful conversations,

Whatever Liszt blabbers needs translation.


Brahms wants to create art with great taste,

Liszt wants to destroy it with sewage waste.


Brahms likes ice cream at Eastbourne in June,

Liszt enjoys wobble vapour flops from Neptune.


Brahms likes foreign food and original music,

Liszt thinks it is crude and will often refuse it.


When they work together on an idea,
Whether it is a poem, song or painting,
Something wonderful will appear.



Goblins and Dragons


The Goblin’s Gorge is guarded by a beast.

Traveller’s are at risk from being slaughtered for his feast.

Be quick and quiet to avoid an attack,

However, there’s little chance of preventing that.

His habitat is a dangerous trap,

to show off his awesome powers used in combat.

It breathes fire for mass destruction,

and beats his wings for stealth abduction.

His sharp claws can puncture skin

then inject poison in.

His strong jaws can break bones and his rough tongue will strip flesh.

Old people taste stale and young taste fresh.

Dragons find children easier to digest.


So quickly! Hide somewhere because dragons like to scare.

If there is a foul smell in the air

then someone may need to change their underwear.


Walk through the gorge and step into the cave,

to a place where goblins misbehave.

They display savage threats

for traveller’s assets.

It’s not gold or silver they require,

body parts are what they desire.

Every goblin is created

from the finest body parts amputated.

Don’t be shocked by this,

how else can a goblin exist?

One goblin needs new ears,

Maybe he can cut yours with his shears.

Another needs a new set of teeth

because his old ones are giving him grief.


So quickly! Hide somewhere

because goblins aren’t fair.

They will consume you down to every last hair.

I myself have escaped the goblins chop

And that is why I’m bald on top.


The Moon

On the moon lives a community

that astronauts have failed to see.

This community is organised by hundreds of moles.

That’s why the moon has thousands of holes.

The pound on the moon has little weight;

therefore the pound has a poor exchange rate.

It is weight and not money moles like to discuss.

You could probably by more with a hippopotamus.


Jupiter inhabitant’s trade with length,

height is their financial strength.

For a sunflower and two giraffes

you could but a immigration pass.


 Alien Life.


The Minka sat next to the Stinka, it gave her a nod and a winka then bought her a drinka. ‘Do you come here often’ he said. Suddenly a rotten smell went to his head. This made him feel unwell. He did not know Stinka’s spoke by smell.


The Busy Body Blower said ‘Aloha!’ to the Phlegm Thrower then tickled him with a feather boa. In defence the Phlegm Thrower did something grim. It spat mucus over him. This was life threatening for the Busy Body Blower because he never learnt to swim.


The Big Band Theory.


The band played a Snooty-Tooty-Flutti and tooted tomorrow’s tunes. The drone of a Humpah-Trump-Umpah shook the moon. The Razz-Ma-Jazzoo buzzed blues, reds, and greens, and a Blabber-Bubble-Bass transmitted dreams onto plasma screens.


This went on for zillions of years.

The noise violated the creator’s ears.

He demanded silence so he could get some rest.

The band felt oppressed, and began to protest

The noise did not stop, this made the creator depressed.

So he moved to earth and set up shop and then created his best.


The Prayer

God Listen, Can you hear me?

Or are you just a theory?

I’ve been agnostic for to long

My mind has lost it and I’m holding on

For you to find the time,

reach out and give a sign

God Listen, are you there

and can you hear my selfish prayer.


I need a change;

I need a better life than yesterdays,

Lord can you send some luck this way

I need to hear you say,

things will be OK

Will you listen, to each time I pray?


I feel your universe

flow through my soul

I’m followed by a curse;

it’s a black hole,

Lord, for heavens sake,

I’ve made mistakes

Give me a break,

and listen to each prayer I make.



Are you proud of what I’ve done?

Because I’ve never won.

Tell me that I am good

and misunderstood,

Give me a chance

and some guidance

So will you listen?

Life has not been fair.

Yes Lord, listen, to my stupid prayer?



An idea started yet never finished. I'm sure you'd get the general idea where it was going.




This bedtime story is about a town nearby,

It’s a place in reach of the spider and the fly.

As you rest in bed, look at the ceiling above your head,

small folk live up there, within the cracks that are as fine as hair,

They’re known as Ceiling people who live in a unique lair.



Ceiling People live in ceiling town.

Their homes are built upside down.

Like a funhouse in a fairground,

every door and window is the other way round.

In ceiling town you will find

every character is out of their mind.



Listen carefully and you’ll hear the sound,

of Mr R-Tex walking around,

in the glow of the ceiling light

and he is out of reach and out of sight.

His hair flows to the floor, blood rushes to his head,

he looks like a clown who has been overfed.



Mrs R-Tex is at home cooking lunch,

‘fresh fly soup and fungi crunch.’

Their daughter, Rose, drinks from a cup,

but she holds it the other way up,

to stop her juice from pouring to the floor.

This will prevent her from making more.



To keep their stuff status quo,

they’ve been stuck up with Velcro.

This way of life is not infantile,

each object is functional for an upside down lifestyle.

Don’t ask how they use the loo,

you really won’t approve of what they do.



Their pet ’Damp Patch,’ is a quiz,

because nobody knows what it is?

Do they say ‘her,’ or do hey say ‘his,’ is it a Mr or is it a Miss?

All it does is move with a whiz and a fizz

into places where it does no belong,

but it doesn’t mean to do anything wrong.


In the Watt’s garden, Damp patch dug a pit.

When Mr Watt comes home, he’ll have a furious fit,

because their sixty kids could get hurt,

if they fall out of the pit get wounded in dirt.

The Watt’s love their children lots

and plan to make 100 Watts



Philip is the Watt’s brighter kid,

he wants to do what Einstein did.

To invent new ideas on how things work,

However he’s uncouth and acts like a jerk.

He makes marvellous machines and grand gadgets,

like hats with magnets and shoes with jets.



Hew is the nastiest of the Watt’s litter.

His role models are Stalin and Hitler.

He will lie and believes in an eye for an eye,

but he acts ever so innocent and shy.

If some thing goes wrong and you’re left feeling like a twit,

Replace who for Hew and that’s – ‘Hew did it.’


Trouble makers will retreat from PC White-Wash, a bob on the beat.

Any villains captured, will be thrown in the slammer,

that includes those who use naughty grammar.

PC White-Wash is brave, he fears nothing, not even an early grave.


The First Part of

Scot Skid Sequal.


Scot’s mum is not well and has been put in a home.

His Christmas had been postponed.

Scots dad had been called to take care of him,

He regrets being his next of kin.

Scot groaned. He’d lost every comfort owned,

For a short stay in South-falls,

A place where Santa never calls,

That right, he sat on the Twenty Four Seven bus, frustrated,

No one makes a fuss in South-fall at Christmas.

Amongst the litter and puddles of bitter,

Cockroaches feast on chicken bones

And dance to frequent ring tones

That played on passenger’s mobile phones.


The bus had too many passengers on board,

Many of them were stowaways who had come from abroad.

Scot ate his ham sandwiches

And he listened to foreign languages.

Scot’s dad felt disturbed, he did not like what he had heard.

The English word is what he preferred

And he believed it should be the only word shared.

People spoke in Indian, Pakistani and Somalian.

Scots Dad had bad nerves and wanted some valium.


He was extremely patriotic; some of his ideas were idiotic.

He thought that;

Foreign food was crude.

Food should be roasted or stewed

and it tasted superb with some herbs.

Anything cooked in spice

and served with boiled rice

did not taste very nice.

He only liked the food of England,

but many Countries think it is bland.


English Schools should only teach English subjects

And forget about any foreign projects.

English Language, History and Home Economics

Are a handful of subjects that he would pick.

There’s no room to teach French, Polish,

Spanish and Cymric.

All those subjects could make kids Dyslexic.


Obviously that view was not true.

There’s more to dyslexia than what Scot’s dad knew.

It was an idiotic thought which he hoped could be taught.


The air on the bus had a stale smell,

of curry spices and incense smoke.

Scot’s dad felt unwell.

The smell almost made him choke.


Scot thought things weren’t that bad

He could handle the complaints from his dad.

However his complaints would turn from bad to worse

Because South-falls was very diverse.

 The bus stopped,

they had finally reached South-falls,

off they hoped

to that place where Santa never calls,

the snow never falls

and Christmas is not advertised in the market stalls.


Asif the Hippogriff

Asif, the Hippogriff, came from a myth to seek work in Hammersmith.
He scanned the pages of the Daily Thingumabob and thought it’s been ages since he had a job. A career in trains for ‘Choo! Choo! Networks’ for a year with great PROMOTION perks was advertised on a classified page. It offered a fair wage, ONLY, if applicants passed its training stage. Knowing he had no skills in customer service made him a tad nervous. However the cliché, ‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained’, easily kept him entertained. So he tried and he lied on the forms they’d supplied and applied.

Asif prayed the reply would not result in something insulting about his competence to do the role and keep him from signing on the dole. The pretence would not make any sense. He thought; ‘don’t need to be wiser to be a customer advisor, anyone who needs training on how to care really should not be there’.

The Director and HR advisor of the Underground.
All applications are screened by a highly trained team in a strict regime so all processes of eliminations are not influenced by discriminations. However their good intentions are spoiled by PC brigades because their equalities are set up in grades.

Director (Andrew Kneel)
Team, there’s something we need to discuss, do we have any myths working for us? Do we need one within our trust? Are there any mythical creatures from dreams within our teams?

HR (Team member)
Sir we have Hetero, Bisexual, Lesbian and gay, Transsexual, asexual, some prefer not to say. There’s Sikhs, Muslims, Buddhist, Hindus, Catholics, Protestants, Mormons and Jews. We’ve Druids, Witches, Satanist and Atheists, and so many others exist on the list. We’ve whites, blacks and Asians from Britain and every addition of Europe’s Commission. We’ve collected people from many communities, to support equal opportunities.

We had a Jedi under us, but because of a cuss the news papers fussed at the time he shouted out verbal abuse. So we ordered his post to be put out of use.

The hippogriffs experience is poor and there are others who can offer more.

I’m the boss; I have the final say in what to give, so offer the role to the Hippogriff. Anyone want a biscuit? We have Digestives, Rich teas, Short bread and Cookies or custard creams, iced rings we have everything, just like Political Correction we have an assorted collection. We won’t risk it. Even if it’s only a biscuit.
Ref. Andrew Neil

Asif takes the relevant tests.

The diversity exam was a multi choice test. With an eanie meanie minie moe he guessed. The examiners were impressed because his results were the best.
He thought; ‘to be PC is easy Peasey Japanesey…….’ His English wasn’t great so the written test was taken by his mate. He knew no human would complain because all Hippogriffs look the same. He had his eyes shut and hands tied through the Health and Safety course, and he qualified.

SO, the Hippogriff was employed and the customers became annoyed because his level of service was poor and no one got what they asked for. In little time, Asif was in front of the firing line for a rude attitude and endless confrontations. He was under investigation.

Investigation: A conversation
 between Asif and his manager.

HR (Team member)
Asif , I would like to raise some concerns before we adjourn, When a customer asked for directions to Ealing, did you mishear him and point at the ceiling? When another asked for the nineteen forty-eight train to Milton Keynes did you tell her she was late and you had no time machines? A customer asked for a single. Did you ask her not to mingle, you’re available and you body’s saleable then asked her on a date, as a soul mate? You were once asked if the trains were running late. Did you say the trains don’t have legs then locked the gates? Did you not believe that Waterloo exists and the customer thought you took the pee out of this?

Hippogriff (Employee)
I did it. YES! And I did it in jest; I told jokes to London folks to ease the stress of competitiveness in the city where no one is witty.

HR (Team member)
You’re kidding me. You’re a FREAK! It’s dangerous when you speak. Everything I heard is absurd. You’re getting on my last nerve. NERD! Go back to where you come from. You dare judge this city, work is not meant to be fun, it’s meant to be shitty. You’re kind are not welcome here. Hippogriff I would appreciate it if you would disappear.

Disciplinary: A one way conversation between
Asif’s Manager and Company Director.

Director (Andrew Kneel)

‘For calling Asif the N and F word has left me in an embarrassing situation, so I have no choice but to ask for your resignation. We are setting an example to the nation that discrimination is not accepted in our station. You’re sacked; we’re terminating your contract’.

Asif’s promotion.

On the following day the post was advertised, and the Hippogriff applied. He made the grade because the station complied with the PC guide.

He was a boss with a bad attitude and that made his team cross. They were not allowed to fuss when Asif told them to jump in front of a bus. Asif could not tolerate sickness in the business. Staff who found they had the runs after they’d farted was expected to get to work faster before their shift started. Those with colds were told not to skive or they’d have to collect there P45. Those who were late could not take a break. Men with toilet aches were told to tie a knot in their snakes. One team member cried when a family member died, a day off was denied and as she sighed the hippogriff said something mean and extreme. ‘If you take a day off, don’t bother coming back because you’ll get the sack’.

The team would come up with excuses and blame the recruiters if he said something abusive to the commuters. Once the gates told a customer, ‘seek for assistance’ he asked Aman to help the man then kept his a distance. When the computers did not work he went berserk. His language was obscene every time he screamed. There were many quarrels because the team disliked his morals. When he was told this, he forced the rebels to hand in their notice.

One day a job advertised for a train driver made his mouth ooze with saliva. This was his childhood ambition, something he always wanted to do so he applied for the position and the grade made his dream come true. Yet, the only training he ever had is with a toy train set when he was a little lad. This is something ‘Choo! Choo! Networks’ would regret, because their commuters lives would be under threat. The train would feed the Hippogriffs need to speed.

Asif’s true colours.

When he got behind the trains controls, madness perverted his soul and converted his goals. His aim became to use the train as a game for kicks and a quick fix.
He announced on the speakers what he planned to do, some folks butt muscles weakened as they ran to the loo.

‘Ladies, gentlemen and to those unsure, I do hope you’re ready to endure an extremely terrifying detour. We’ll going to speed until we run out of track. Quote a prayer because we may not come back. This could be a single fare.’

The train moved and the Hippogriff cooed ‘Choo! Choo!’ The passengers prayed to be rescued. They screamed, Asif blasphemed, some thought the driver of the train was mentally insane. As the train went, Asif supplied the entertainment. His menacing voice sang songs of acquired choice to the backing tracks of Guitar Heroes muzak.

The hippogriff repeated to himself, ‘Gonna make it, gonna make it.’
The passengers repeated to themselves ‘Not gonna make it, not gonna make it.’

The train reached its ultimate speed yet somehow the Hippogriff found more, he pulled the horn at every station platform making an almighty roar. It hurried through towns, the force it generated flipped parked cars upside down, passenger’s bones got damaged as they were tossed amongst their baggage in each carriage.

Then suddenly, when all was at a loss, an absurd miracle occurred. A single snow flake landed on the tracks, the Hippogriff’s plan came to an anticlimax. The entire network came to a halt and was announced as a railway fault.

The hippogriff was apprehended and the passengers were relieved the incident had ended. However he was not judged by lawyers. No! He was not. The courts attacked his employers for turning diversity into a perversity. It’s unfair to employ someone because of where they come from and not what they can do. Pro-discrimination is as bad a racism to. The hippogriff would never be accountable for what he did because he had minority rights, if you thought differently then pigs will take flight. ‘Choo! Choo! Networks’ declined to mention how much they had been fined and gave no comment on how the Director’s disciplinary went.

Now friend, remember, anytime you’re asked to complete an equality form, tick- prefer not to say because your application may get torn and thrown away.

The Cosmos Cafe

Welcome, friend, to ‘The Moon’s Cosmos Café,’

where we av’ some delicious dishes on display.

There’s ‘Moon Rise Surprise’ served with ‘Martian Fries,’

How about ‘Spicy Saturn Rings’ and ‘Frozen Comet Wings;

With a dash of lemon to give the taste zing.

For zee dessert there’s ‘Rainbow marshmallows, Astronaut Doughnuts,’

Or a slice of ‘Uranus,’ *this last sweet is dangerous.

For drinks there’s ‘Solar Cola,’ or ‘Luna Lemonade.’

These drinks have sparkled for decades.


The moon feeds little oxygen to the mind,

And can results to café conversations of the strangest kind.

It is easy to request a ‘Scary Dizzy Brain,’ instead of a ‘Strawberry Fizzy Rain,’

Or ‘Guilt Ache and Handy Loss’ in place of ‘Milkshake and Candy Floss,’

When you’ve been on the moon to long the words can come out wrong. 

 Passionate About


My Home

'The Spirit of Discovery' Words that have not been muttered in a long time. I am passionate about Plymouth and have decided to illustrate a famous Landmark of Plymouth once a month.

I hope you like it.




  • Dear Haydn
    I love it !

    Thank you so much.

    I wish you could see the smile on my face.

    I want to set up a new website with your cartoon as the front page (with perhaps a little bit of background information beneath the cartoon).

    I promise there'll never be any profit from the cartoon, and it will be my pleasure to write a post for your website giving extremely positive feedback. I'll compose something tomorrow night and get it off to you.

    It's really kind of you to wish me luck with the campaign, and to hope that something good comes from the fight. I think it's very possible that something good will result from it all.

    Very best wishes.


    Christmas Gift Caricature.

    Anita Bickell

    • She loved it. Thank you so much. I have another little project you may be interested in later, involves playing cards for teaching.
      happy New Year to you and yours.
      Much love.



    Ice Breaker Games.

    Spot on, thanks Haydn.

    I've never looked so good as on the money, I'll handle the printing of the money.

    Thanks for your help,


    Illustrations for

    BEAT.COM Magazine.

    We have one more story, which I received unexpectedly and has no artwork. It's about an imagined swingers' party with Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg. It's comical and silly but I like it and have made some space in the magazine. If you have time I'd love to see your take on it. 




    Illustration for a

    picture book. 

    Graphics for Flyers 



    The story is an idea that started as a paragraph over ten years ago. I revisited the idea last year and thought it was charming enough to tell as a story. Click on the image if you want to read 'Charlie's story'.


     Scot Skid's Story.

    ‘Scots story begins at the end and finishes the same way it started. How? Dreams only have a beginning middle and end when they are parted,’ Dr Leggit told Scot’s dad. He then continued to read Scot’s file.

    Scot’s incredible imagination has made his mother go crazy. As she recovers in a psychiatric ward Dr Leggit tries to convince the boy’s father to act as a full-time guardian.

    Dr leggit’s notes tell an abstract story about what Scot’s imagination is capable of. There is fantasy, horror, humour written in poetry and illustrated for young adults.

    Cartoon Strip.


     WHO IS



    I bear no resemblance to the musician, Franz Joseph Haydn. I am tone death, so that disabled any opportunities of a music career. Fortunately I still have an output for my creatively, this comes in writing and illustration. I am on a mission to get something published. So far everything I have done has been rejected, so I have setup a website to promote an awareness of my ideas. So please explore my website. Please forward it on to your friends to increase my popularity. Kind Regards Haydn


    I am often asked where my ideas come from. The truth is from no where. My  school teachers  always told me I would get no where with my cartoons. To get no where takes some discipline. I have got no where many times and enjoy being there So how to get no where?. I let go of my worries and ignore the distractions of other people’s affairs.  Nothing must disturb me. You see most cartoonist are already disturbed.  I allow time to ponder. After a long day selling shoes, resolving customer queries and struggling to get by, desperately fighting  to find my own space in the public transport system, my mind retreats in to a day dream. As I escape from the chatters of commuters and the grinding noises of traffic, I wait in a comfortably numb state of mind. Then a odd moment triggers some ideas. This moment could be a split second where a word amoungst the chitter chatters  is said or a curious noise  happens and then fiction washes over me.  Then I need to be some where urgently. That place is home, where I barge past the wife, trip over one cat and kick the other, dive for the broken, used and abused lap top and CREATE.

    Love light and peace.



    Cartoon Community


    If you are interested in learning more about cartoons then you can join a community of people who share the same interest.  It does not matter if you are a professional, enthusuast or a beginner everyone is invited. It looks like a useful tool if you want to know more about how to draw, indusry secrets and perhaps a way to promote your own work.


    Greeting Card SUBMISSIONS


    This is a great page to start of your submissions if you want to get your work published in the greeting card market.



    Great magazine by non-profit making team who are exploring the Beat Generation where Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac and of course William Burroughs experimented with literature, rhythm and liberation.



    Become a official fan by

    clicking the link below.


    Make a Free Website with Yola.