South Wales Urban Sketcher: One Sketch A Day Three

One Sketch A Day Three

I'm sorry, but it's just the guy I am
Gimme the choice, I'll choose

To sketch a tram.

Each crossing

Feels like time travel

My car becomes
A Tardis.

From one town
To the appreciative eyes and ears

Of the world.

A building down the side street,
There's the rub

Who can resist the allure of such a pub?

A cowboy who called himself Tex
Was often found hitting the decks
He said, "When I fall
It bruises my ball

Reducing my chances of sex

I once took a Nottingham tram
While eating an overcooked ham
With gravy and peas
And a limburger cheese

With lashings of raspberry jam.

I'm not obsessed.
I'm just very, very, very,very
Very, very, very, very, very

Alright. I am obsessed.

I can only say
I'm very sorry
Me sketch a different thing

Tomorree.

To pick another subject's hard
When one's as busy as I am
At least you can be thankful

It's a train and not a tram

I have to say
It's quite a strain
To write yet another verse

About a train.

Again, again, again, again

I've sketched another flipping train.

I'd be most remiss if I failed

To sketch and to praise Merseyrail

Wherever I go
Wherever I might be
When you get down to it
The Tube's for me.

A top treasure hunter? Not half,
Who often could do with a bath
Who shoots from the hip,
Is a whizz with a whip,

Archaeologist? Don't make me laugh.

Am I happy with this?
You bet I am
What more could I possibly want
Than London, a bridge and a tram.

Guaranteed to make me smile

Old fashioned trams

On the three legged Isle.

Scorpions - nasty wee things
Just think of the pain that they brings
They scuttle around
On the dry sandy ground
Just waiting to strike with their stings

Scorpions - nasty wee things
Just think of the pain that they brings
They scuttle around
On the dry sandy ground

Just waiting to strike with their stings

I think that you couldn't rebut
The fact that it must take some guts
To stand in the street
And ask folk to eat

Their fill of your steaming hot nuts

A wizard, when casting a spell
Just didn't perform very well
He went with a flash
Leaving nothing but ash,

A bang, and a terrible smell.

Run, Colonel, run Colonel, run run run
Fetch a semi-automatic gun, gun, gun
That cock's nuts
And boy he hates your guts
Coz you stuck his mum in a bun, bun, bun.
(with apologies to Noel Gay and Ralph Butler)

I really don't want to be cruel
But think I should say, as a rule
That a collie or lab
Is usually fab
Apart from their terrible drool

I am not sleeping,
Not exhausted.
And though I may look slumped
Inert
Listless
I am ready for the chase.
I am merely rehearsing
Death is inevitable
And it is in my gift
To you.

(To the tune of the Robin Hood theme)

Norrin Rad, Norrin Rad,

Riding through the stars,

Norrin Rad, Norrin Rad

Never goes in bars

Enjoy these days,

My son

For he will grow

Before you know. Remember this, and then

In years to come,

You too can say to him

Enjoy these days,

My son.

The problem with snakes for your hair?
It encourages people to stare
They rant and they moan
While turning to stone

Sometimes it seems life isn't fair

Corporal Punishment?
Major Cruelty.

I've heard, though I may well be wrong,
That whales are addicted to song

I wouldn't say they're cheating,
Although I can believe
That every single one of them
Has aces up their sleeves.

I've said it once, I've said it twice,
I'll say it once again,
You shouldn't underestimate
The power of the train.

A girl called Elizabeth one
Was truly as chaste as a nun
Despite some men's urging
This queen stayed a virgin
Majestic, but not really fun.

Ah, Dizzy, now there was a guy
Who often did things on the sly
A devious sort
Or so it is thought
But then he was gone, and bye bye.

Telosians have funny old heads

Or so it is quite often said

So large and so lumpy

I bet they get grumpy

When lifting them up from their beds.

Forgive me, but I have to ask
Whose idea was it then

Encasing ships in glass?

The Doctor is always a hit
Or such in my books have I writ
Perhaps then I ought
Recall when he fought

The fiery fiend from the pit

I am a prison
What do you see
When you look in the mirror?
I see bars, and walls

I see locked doors.

C'est Paris, une cite jolie

Si belle, et si plein d'desprit

Son Metro, si vite

Le meilleur, elite,

Donc j'aime aller la, oh oui, oui.

Thousands pass each morning
Spewed out
From their homes in the South
They speak a language

Of money.

This mastiff's a dog from Tibet
That's very expensive to get
One million quid
Would be too low a bit
Value for money? Nyet.

Muddy Old Man
Bearing floating palaces,
Teardrops of wonderful

Shabby gaudiness.

I find that it helps me relax

It's something that cribbage just lacks

I play with my chopper

It's really a whopper

In fact it's a hell of an axe

It makeS me feel old, and old at heart

For I was already a dad

When Sonic was state of the art

Mighty symbol
of power and pride
A nod to the cathedrals
of Europe
A physical stretch
And a leap of the imagination

The thunderbird
Is a funny fowl
It flies from street to street
It breathes in air
And spits out fumes

Which do smell none too sweet.

Personally, I think it's ace
Seeing it before twas put in place
Given with such kindness and such grace
More, much more than just a pretty face

Looking through the window
Watching planes
Which will carry other people's dreams

Not Mine.

Canals, bridges, trams
And all those bikes
Amsterdam, Amsterdam

What's not to like?

This took an hour to sketch
Before I rose
And while I sat and sketched

My fingers froze.

If Metro railways are that which you seek
Give Amsterdam a miss

It's very bleak

Nobody grieves
When diesels go extinct

I do like trams
I'm just that sort of bloke
I wish I'd seen them

Trundling in the Smoke.

Ring out the old doctor
Ring in the new
She is the Doctor

And bloody good too

Poor old Guido
You'll be quartered and hang
At least, every bonfire night

Goes with a bang

So much pain
So much genius

So much.

We all have our favourites
Pineapple is mine
Just so long as it's

More apple than pine

Tyger , Tyger,
Burning bright
Don't look now
Your tail's alight.

(with thanks to Spike Milligan)

An elephant
It must be said
Is better off living than dead
So leave them alone
When tusks they have grown

Pull out your own teeth instead.

Santa is checking his list
Which he holds in a chubby old fist
So take my advice
If you want to stay nice

Don't gamble, or smoke, or get drunk.

Christmas comes but once a year
The cost is rather shocking
So make sure that you always have
A really massive stocking.

Slow, rattlesome
Uncomfortable
And for all that
I'd give a lot
for a time machine
to take me to ride one

Santa s trying to skate
He seems to be tempting his fate
He's dazed and confused
He's been at the booze

He'll end in a hell of a state

The season just makes us feel young
So songs through the ages have sung
The fat cat has said
He'll pull on the sled

He's probably after a bung.

Ladies and gents

I give you

A living oxymoron

- Ugly but cute.

How strange to think
A man who died a century and a half ago
Made Christmas what it is
Today

It's hard to tell you the truth
When you're getting quite long in the tooth,
You try to be kind
But it's quite hard to find
Just where in the world's the right roof.

A letter to Santa

You think he's not real

And yet

You still hope

While Rudolph is having a snooze
Pa Christmas will quite often choose
To throw off the shackles
And prepare to tackle
A steaming great bowlful of booze

Prancer, Dancer
Dasher, Vixen
Comet, Cupid
Donner, Blitzen
Call them what you like
They're knackered by Boxing Day.

Santa has said with a groan
"Oh blimey, I'm not on my own"
I've come to a house
Where the cats crave a mouse
And the dog is expecting a bone."

See the hipster run.
Run hipster, run.
See the hipster mutter
Mutter Hipster, mutter!
See the hipster getting really pissed off.
Get really pissed off, Hipster, Get really pissed off!
See the hipster take a riding crop to those sodding kids.

Santa's mistiming his call
For a kid has climbed right up the wall
He sits on the stack
His sack on his back
And waits for the bugger to fall

Norman Rockwell
Proof,
(If any should be needed)
That you don't need words

To be a Poet.

We wish you a Merry Christmas
We wish you a Merry Christmas
We wish you a Merry Christmas
Now make with the mince pies and mulled wine
Or we'll break your windows.

What they said
Yesterday

Ho ho ho
But watch your back
And don't go near

The guy with the sack

Dashing through the snow
In a one horse open sleigh
Is a hell of a lot colder

Than a roller.

I never wish
For narrow fish
I'm a man who has to say

I'd much prefer a manta ray.

The region that's known as Macau

Is all part of China by now.

The thing I would say about Buster
- apologising for my bluster
With each new decade
The films that he made

Just seem to take on greater lustre.

While Chaplin remained at the helm
So often he would overwhelm
With slapstick, with cheek
Such laughter he'd wreak
He ended a knight of the realm

Ding dong

CRACK!

You can keep your Honey Monsters
Your teddies and your wookies
Here's the guy who works for me
The one who eats the COOOOKKKIIIEEESSS!

Bored

Why does it take so long

Just to say

Welcome?

The older, and more ruined
She gets
The more beautiful
She becomes.
For most of us
It works
the other way.

A rabbit with trumpet and scroll
Found servitude taking its toll
"I don't mind the work,"
He said with a smirk,

"But I don't like the hours, on the whole"

Here's something you shouldn't forget
A jabberwock's not a good pet
It's ravenous jaws
And needle sharp claws
Will leave you a ton of regret

American truck
Size isn't everything
But it's pretty impressive
Still.
A symphony
In steel and chrome

Ah,no,
I wouldn't want to be 5 again
But my imagination
would.

Yes, I too am that sort of chap
Who favours the wearing of caps

Gingerbread's fine
It's taste - superial
But isn't the greatest
Building material

I guess I would quite like to tarry
Like Hermione, Ron and Harry

Born from an egg on a mountain top

- Pull the other one, mate

It's got bells on.

Ah, the unreformed miser!

Worry not, old misanthrope

The ghosts are on their way.

It's a dog's life
And sometimes

That ain't so bad a thing.

Don't matter how ugly you are
Mistletoe is a great
Leveller.

Ah, the innocent pleasures
Of yesteryear
Snowman building
Snowball fights
And double pneumonia

I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus
I wouldn't really mind
But Daddy has been in the nick
- Serving five years' time

Horse stamp explosive Earth
Which shatters
then re-forms

Ring out solstice bells
Ring all night
And tonight
Is the longest night of all.
- Bet your arms get tired

Santa's little helper
Ain't so flippin'
Little

Alice has recently been

Playing at chess in this scene

She can't be ignored

But moves up the board

Promoting herself to a queen

It's the day before Christmas
- ah, dear, what a pity
I hate having guests
Coz it makes me feel dismal

Angels on Christmas Day
That's plain to see
Expecting originality?
Not from me.

Big chief sits so silently, wow
While the sun beats unmercifully now
His horse bows his head
While the only thing said

A one syllable question - how?

One thing I'd like to ask my friends -
Can you see where this one line starts

Or where it ends?

Do not go gentle into that good night
- if the grim reaper wants you,

Then make the bugger fight.

An oasis of calm and peace
In a city
of

energy

A little light
Can be a dangerous thing.
Not as much
As darkness, though.

You scream
I scream
We all scream
For Ice cream.
(Not when it's so flippin' cold though.)

How wonderful

How calm, serene,

How beautiful, how wise you are

You'll always be the same to me

Whatever shape or size you are.

Grand Pavilion Porthcawl
Home to the Porthcawl panto
Oh no it isn't
Oh yes it is

Oh no

The secret life of butterflies

Each is a master of disguise

Each is a ninja glider

That loves to drink rough cider

They love to go to discos

Then fly to San Francisco

They knock on people's doors

And when they sleeps, they snores

The stuff of fairytales
Made flesh
and bones
In stones
And slate.

Cathedrals
Stone poetry
and

Music, frozen in time.

What's he got on his head?

Must be often said

What a thing I've sketched today
Just like the bobble head

Of Dorian Gray

What a sight indeed
A dragon who likes

To read.

While all around
The dear departed sleep
Carved in stone above them

Angels weep

Maybe it's because
I'm a Londoner.
- No maybe about it.

By the banks of the Danube Blue
You can ride on a lovely tram too

Want to know why I'm happy
as I am?
Cos it's Spring
It's Prague

And I'm sketching a tram

Believe me , it must be quite a sight
To see such lovely letters

Made of light.

Why don't you be
like I am?
Go to Amsterdam

And ride the tram.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
What is quite as nice
As a cuddle with

A warm pup?

Although they're not that cuddly
I think I like them most
Although they're quite aggressive

They can help you make great toast.

Sleepy streets shiver,
waiting for late spring
To breathe life
Into dusty cobbles.

Look at my face

And see the beauty

of the commonplace.

We've come so far
Well, what d'you know?
300 down

And 65 to go.

I have to be honest,
I can see it would get you down
Waking up halfway
Between a cyberman

And a clown.

A Jamaican sprinter called Bolt
A sprinter supreme with fault
Who tore down the track
Without holding back

A bugger to bring to a halt

It is a beast
I have to say
Of quite exalted rank
It has my admiration
Half animal,

Half tank.

Dive in headfirst

To the sea of people

I've always been the kind
To flip my lid
For a central American

Pyramid

Dissolved, to satisfy
Old Henry's lust
- Yet still it stands,

While that fat git is dust.

Grand Old Lady
Beams down benignly
One the city which gave her

Birth.

A steam choo choo
As wonderful and almost mythical
As a dinosaur
And pretty much

As extinct

The fox is always near
Lurking in the long grass, tall grass
Short grass
The fox is always near.
So the hare listens
To the song of the wind
And the song of the scent
For the fox is always near
Yet the hare
Fills his lungs and his heart
And his tune fills the long grass,
Tall grass, short grass
For he has jumped over the moon

And the fox was nowhere near.

A house of worship
Laying heavy bonds
On the surly earth,

For a thousand years
My bells have tolled
For kings,
And their dust,
Is my buried treasure.

My kind of trams
Chicago had
Now they're all gone

That's kind of sad.

I hope that you won't think it's too obscene

If I confess my worship of the bean.

I hope that you won't think it's too obscene

When I confess my worship of the bean (you see what I did there?! Geddit!)

Feed the birds
Tuppence a bag
Tuppence
Tuppence
Tuppence a bag
(Then they'll crap on your funny hat.)

Feed the birds - that was the prompt from Sketching Every Day.

Let the waters flow
In this bridge we trust
Been there since 1781

Hope it's safe from rust.

Do not worry
Never fear
But celebrate

The Lunar year.

Venice Venice Venice
Place not to forgetto
It's still on my bucket list

So is the cornetto.

Come on baby light my fire

(Me central heating's packed in)

The moon is high
The moon is bright
There's wonder in me gizzard
The world is black
And white
And grey
And the cat in the hat's

A wizard

There's little else
That's quite as sad, I'd say
As a pub that's left to mould

And rot away.

Est-ce qu'il y a
Quelque chose aussi jolie
Q'une femme francaise
Avec parapluie?

A brave and loyal journalist
Adventurous, not showy
Did he ever have a human love?
Or only eyes for Snowy?

The thought alone
Sets tingling my lips
A freshly battered fish
On a bed of chips

He just sits there
and grouses
This granddaddy
of mouses.

"Your majesty" he cried
"These blooms aren't dead."
" I do not care one jot
Off with their heads"

The teddy examines the train
"A mystery here, yet again!"
No driver, no guard
Oh isn't it hard
Such mysteries drive me insane"

Rhett Butler, a lusty old ram,
Did not waste a second's time, ma'am.
He grabbed Scarlett's waist
And kissed her with haste
Cos frankly, he don't give a damn.

Lines on a blank page
Are all I can offer
Sometimes
That's enough.

Unsung heroes
Don't always come
in Uniform

Citrus, coffee
Roses, bread
What's your favourite smell instead?

City of Smoke
Frozen in monochrome
Between two wars.

Whenever I've been with a hippo
He's never afraid to let rippo
Each gigantic fart
Is only the start
-Be wary of giving him lippo.

Get your kicks
On Route 66.
Shame about global warming

There's loads of antiques there
On every self
I can't say much
I'm pretty old myself.

This one I'm quite prepared to share
My copy
Of a multicoloured bear.

Sweden's capital
Is where I am
Can't see me here?
I'm on the tram

Stockholm
City of Islands
And Bridges
And Ice.

Island of spires
and narrow streets
Freezing wind
Aching Feet

Farewell, then Stockholm
I'll miss your spires
But not your cold wind

Christina the Queen was a lass
At whom one would not make a pass
She ruled as a king
But then, here's the thing
She gave it all up for the Mass.

Telling a tale of
sweet fruits
of warm places
And days long gone

My blood runs cold
Even when I bask on
the banks of
frozen fire.
But I can still move
Torpedo sharp
Through the colder depths
Of the sea
Until, triumphant
I explode onto the rocks
To warm.

The officer's a frightful bore
There's worse things, though
When you're at war.

Swedish choo choo
One the track
Took me into town
and back.

T is for tunnels
And bana means bana.

Don't say that I'm being too hasty
To say that a zygon is nasty
They make some folk tremble
Although they resemble
A large overbaked Cornish pasty.

Whirl around and around
And savour the
Experience
Of flying
on the ground

Admire me
Like I admire
Myself

Ghosts tiptoe
Needle and tape measure poised
Between the bags of
Cash

The magician is making a show
Nothing up his sleeves, like so
He seems far too fond
Of waving his wand
Is this really magic then? No.

My only beef
With life on a reef
Is huge great sharks
With razor teeth.

Pinkerton
What a rotten guy
Left poor Madam M
High and dry.

What a fool was Mr. Toad!
So K. Grahame's book once showed

Hans Anderson would often write
Of mermaids, and of a duck
He didn't look like Danny Kaye
I couldn't give a hoot.

I'll tell you, if truth must be told
I really have never been sold
On the idea to go
And live in the snow
I never would cope with the cold.

I'm not fond of bitter, cider
lager, Guinness too
The evening that I downed three pints
I ended on the loo

I'm not an oil painting

That is true

But decades worth of teaching

Would do the same to you

Don't expect me
To domesticate
Any time soon
Keep your pampered pooches
While I howl
At the moon.

In History, it seems, they have gone down
They sacrificed themselves to save their town.

I think that everybody
Except the most stupid foolies
Would rather be caught by the ghosties
To being caught by the ghoulies.

Sleep sound, oak warrior
Your day is done
But your twilight
Is magnificent

When it comes down to sketching , well who can
Copy what I have sketched? You can!
So pick up your pen
Again and again
How many can play this game? Two can!