Sweet Shops are all the thing at the moment. Round my way anyway.
A fascinating subject for the nostalgic, they carry such weight. Quite literally, who remembers getting two ounces of sherbet pips? Hands up!
Well, wonderful and clever poet Trisha Broomfield has captured these details and memories succinctly. A terrific piece that will bring back so many memories.
Read on – that’s an order!
Mr Bonnie’s Sweet Shop
It sat squat on the corner of Market Place and Cone Street
on the way to the dentist’s house,
it sold every type of sweet;
Fruit Salads, and Black Jacks, four for a penny!
Sherbet dips or dabs? Jamboree Bags,
rubbery Milk Bottles, Flying Saucers—
melted in your mouth and stuck to the roof of it,
hard boiled squares of Rhubarb and Custard—
cut your tongue and made it bleed,
bubble gum, soft and pink—stopped your words coming out
Gob Stoppers lethally similar to the gum,
garish pink shrimps, who would eat them now?
Chocolate Buttons covered in hundreds and thousands—
not proper chocolate like Cadbury’s
Aniseed Balls and Mint Imperials, choke hazards
wrapped in white, crumpled paper,
Liquorice boot laces and pipes, Jelly Beans and Babies,
white Cigarettes with red tips, we sucked the ends to points
Wagon Wheels, huge, Mars Bars equally huge
and with a reputation, Love Hearts—BE MINE
you could woo whoever you fancied,
they never had BOG OFF written on them.
Trisha Broomfield
Wasn’t that a beautiful piece?! Didn’t Trisha take you personally into that sweet shop?! Lovely words and memories. Thank you so much, Trisha. More please!
Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back with more poetry action real soon…..
Now settle down PL’s, because our talented and prolific guest is about to come on!
A big welcome to James Domestic!
(Standing ovation. Security rush back from their fag breaks)
(Our esteemed guest glides elegantly down the lighted stairway)
Welcome to the show, James. I hope you found us alright. We are thrilled to have you as a guest.
I see you’ve brought your lovely cats with you (Dobby glowers in the wings)
Yes, I thought they could swap notes with Dobby. And they have a packet of Dreamies!
So, thanks for having me on the show, Heather.
A real pleasure, James. So glad you could make it.
(Audience cheer in agreement)
Why don’t you fill us in on your background?
My background is a bit all over the place. My parents were from London, though they’d moved out to Hertfordshire – a little place called Wormley – by the time I was born.
Then when I was four, we moved – along with almost every other member of the wider family – down to Clacton-on-Sea in Essex.
I now live in Suffolk with my missus, Lu, and our two cats, Susan The Cat and Freddie Fuzzles.
I left school with almost no qualifications because I was rarely there, and when I was there, I couldn’t seem to concentrate and just mucked about. I was only interested in music, girls and alcohol by the time I was 14!
I spent my early post-school years between the dole and the factory, and a few other equally mind-numbing poorly-paid occupations (see Guff CV from the recent Poets Day Dream book).
Then, out of desperation, I did an OU degree, and it had a massive impact on my life. I did a few years working in social housing, and then, for really over-the-top levels of scholastic compensation, I ended up doing a PhD in my thirties and now work at Essex University. None of my teachers would’ve seen that coming!
I’ve played in bands since I was fourteen and have made a lot of records with different ones. I always put a selected, but not exhaustive, discography in the back of my books in case people want to check those records out.
I’ve played with my main band, The Domestics, for fourteen years and we’ve been all over – The Basque Country, Greece, Norway, Sweden, Germany, France, Belgium, Denmark, Netherlands…all good fun!
This is fascinating, James. Look how far you’ve come! A great inspiration to us all.
(Audience cheer in agreement)
And Wormley?! I had many friends from there. Clacton?! Swoon! Love it there!
When did poetry become a part of your life?
As the main songwriter in most of the bands I’ve been in, I’ve always written lyrics, which I guess – at a push – you might say are a form of poetry!
The first ‘proper’ poem I had published in 2013 in a book put together to raise funds for The Freedom Bookshop in London, which had been firebombed by fascists.
After that, a couple of spoken word pieces appeared on records by The Domestics; our 2015 split 7” with a band called Volunteers had Just Some Arsehole That Plays in a Band on it, and our 2017 album, Cherry Blossom Life, included Human Ikizukuri.
I’ve only really been having my books published and doing poetry gigs for maybe three years.
I’m loving this, James. A fascinating and fulfilling journey.
Who were your biggest influences?
Well, I’ve always enjoyed John Cooper Clarke and Ivor Cutler, and from that got into Luke Wright, Attila The Stockbroker, Rob Auton, Spike Milligan, Saleena Godden, Mark Grist and many more. I’m never really sure if they’re direct influences, but they may well be!
I think I’m often far more influenced by poetry that I don’t like…trying to avoid those traps!
Oh, Luke Wright! The first performance poet I ever saw. Very clever.
All those names have made me swoon. Especially Attila!
Are you working on anything at the moment?
Well, I don’t think there’ll be any more books from me in 2025 – two is probably enough in one year! – so I’m focusing on the live stuff really, and also trying to pull together an hour long show with a bit of a through-line, but I’m not supposed to talk about that yet, so that’s all you’re getting on that subject! Haha!
There’ll be another book sometime next year as I’ve a lot of new work, but there’s no hurry.
The Domestics are slowly working up new songs for the next record and should be heading back to The Basque Country for a few gigs next year too.
Tantalising! And gigs?
I still have a fair few gigs in the diary for this year, I think. You can check www.jamesdomestic.com for the latest info, to buy books or my folk art, or whatever. Maybe sign up too…you’ll only get a handful of emails a year (I’m too busy to do more than that) and you’ll get a heads up about significant activities.
I have terrible Seasonal Affective Disorder which usually creeps in around late October/early November, which means I’m unable to gig through the months on November, December, January, and February, so I try to squeeze plenty in in the remaining months.
Well, I’m signing up now!
Sorry to hear that, it affects people terribly. Those dark months feel threadbare and lonely, I know.
So, (sweeps everything off the desk. Audience gasp)
What’s the best gig you’ve ever done? And the Worst?!
Oh blimey! I can totally remember the worst – thanks for making me think about that, Heather!
I did one in Southend quite early on. I was the main feature and on after the open mic section. I started to get a little worried during the open mic as every single person – in fact, every other person in the room – was doing very serious, earnest, confessional stuff, which as you know is not what I do at all.
It came to my set and they just did not know what to make of it. Deathly silence between each poem. It was excruciating. I had a 25 minute set to plough through, and it was dreadful.
You could hear every time someone took a sip of their drink or shuffled in their seat! Also, there was a council meeting going on upstairs and so halfway through my set there was a lot of noise of people strongly disagreeing on points of discussion.
It honestly couldn’t have been much worse! But, having said that, I was pretty new to it and all the gigs I’d done up that point – maybe half a dozen – had gone really well, so I guess it was a leveller if nothing else! Anyone can have a shitty gig now and again.
There have been so many good ones. The supports with Luke Wright, Attila, and Andy Riley have all been great and I’ve had some great ones at Patch in Colchester, Good Shout in Peterborough, and at Poetry Scum in Nottingham, amongst others.
The one that surprised me the most was when I was asked to do a five minute unpaid slot at Frinton Literary Festival last year. I generally don’t like to encourage what are essentially “pay to play” gigs if your expenses aren’t being covered as a minimum, but I took a chance on it and I was so glad I did!
I was on just before the break and there was a queue at my merch as soon as I left the stage. Definitely in the top 3 gigs in terms of number of books sold – I almost ran out!
Also, that’s where I met the brilliant Andy Riley, a writer on Black Books, Big Train, Smack The Pony, Veep and tons of other stuff. He’s ridiculously funny and we’ve done a couple of gigs together now, with more to come. So, it was a fortuitous evening.
Oh Veep! What classy stuff he’s written. I must come and see you both, I bet you’re a dynamic set.
What a learning curve! These things do make us stronger. Such a great story.
So we off up the POW disco tonight? Lee Campbell’s going to be there!
(Our esteemed guest shuffles uncomfortably)
Out with it, James! Lee’s barred me again, hasn’t he?!
Erm.. I think it was that ‘Fluffy Kittens’ poem you did, Heather.
Er…Susan! Freddie! Dobby! Wait for me!!
(Mr Domestic legs it up the lighted stairs!)
Sigh! One lives with the pain after a while! There’s some dustbins outside where I can lie down.
Wasn’t James Domestic a fantastic guest, PL’s?!
(Standing ovation and cheers of agreement ).
Please look at his website. A fantastic and prolific artist.
Thanks for tuning in, Poetry Lovers. We’ll be back with more poetry action real soon…
Here are two great events I’m looking forward to..
Yes, Poems Not Bombs at the wonderful Spice of Life in Soho. Hosted by the fabulous Paul McGrane. I look forward to joining the lovely Trisha Broomfield there.
And relishing this great event at The Chapel Bar & Bookshop in Broadstairs on the 12th August. A beautiful setting with beautiful poets and beautiful poetry.
Hosted by the wonderful Nick Goodall. Can’t wait. Get there! Don’t miss it!
As we all know, PL’s, there are other hot events coming up. Will keep you informed every step of the way!
Thanks for tuning in, Poetry Lovers. We’ll be back with more poetry action real soon….
With playing host, we mostly think of guests coming to dinner. Which can be a nice occasion but not always the case when the shoe is on the other foot!
Who’s been stuck at someone’s table and served absolutely vile food?! And you dreamt about that cheese sandwich you’re going to have at home through every course?! Yes! We’ve all been this sort of guest, haven’t we.
This piece I hope sums it all up. Please read on ….
Dinner
They say Dinner is a state of mind
But unfortunately butternut squash is real
On a par with anything named Gratin
A form of torture passed off as a meal
Certain dishes spell out Doom
Aubergine bake is best to avoid
Simply embrace the cheeseboard
Because vegetables make you paranoid
Anything with tofu in is also hell
You long to grill cheese on toast
Just be grateful there’s no lentils involved
And plan revenge for when you’re host
I hope you enjoyed that piece, PL’s, and maybe you have had a similar situation at a strange dinner table.
Thanks for tuning in, Poetry Lovers. We’ll be back with more poetry action real soon…..
Now, hands up who had to quickly sort out their summer clothes? As I suspected, all of us!
Where did this heatwave come from?! Why are we always caught out by this every summer?! And when you drag these poor clothes out, they look pale and uninspiring!
Fantastic poet, Trisha Broomfield has summed this frustration up nicely and poignantly in a super pantoum.
Do read on, it will strike a chord in all of us!
Summer Clothes
My summer clothes are raggedy
they slump about all limp on chairs,
no elegance, a tragedy.
Pink dresses layered in cat hairs
they slump about all limp on chairs.
The mirror never shows me smart,
pink dresses layered in cat hairs
in winter dressing is an art
the mirror never shows me smart,
linen crumpled, viscose creased.
In winter dressing is an art
boobs are hidden not released
linen crumpled, viscose creased,
with corns and bunions on display
boobs are hidden not released
white sandals have been out since May
with corns and bunions on display.
No elegance, a tragedy
white sandals have been out since May
my summer clothes are raggedy.
Trisha Broomfield 2025
Wasn’t that a lovely wistful piece?! Thank you so much, Trisha and more please. We’ve got a wardrobe in all of us, so poems on a postcard please to….
Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back with more poetry action real soon…
Now we turn to the Toaster. Wonderful poet Sharron Green has penned a beautiful piece on how a toaster can really be a vital part of our lives.
Despite cussing when my own toaster pops up with charcoaled bread, I couldn’t be without one either. Do you remember toasting bread under the grill?! Dire!!
Do read this great poem..
A poem about my Toaster
As a non-cook, but clearly a boaster, I’m exceedingly fond and proud of my toaster.
It enables creations to be more than they might, heating cross buns to a crunchy delight.
My crumpets become a delicate shell in which oodles of butter cosily dwell.
It has a timer, that I’ve learnt to turn to exactly the spot between ‘just right’ and ‘burn’.
I’ve the option of one slice, two or all four (and when they pop up, I can swiftly post more).
My signature dish, ‘Beans on Toast’ (must be Heinz) with shavings of cheese, pleases hearts if not minds.
I know as a chef I’d never get far but my toaster and I are Michelin Star.
@rhymes_n_roses
Isn’t it marvellous?! And true?! Thank you so much, Sharron, more please.
Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll return with more poetry action real soon….
Yes, you should be excited, because our special guest today is unique and prolific poet Ted Gooda!!
(Standing ovation as our esteemed guest glides on)
Welcome to the show, Ted. So glad you have you as a guest
(audience agree heartily)
Great to be here, Heather. Love what you’ve done with the place!
Thank you. Dobby chose the colours. Of course decorating’s not the same since Homebase went. Sob!
Why don’t you fill us in on your background?
A bit about myself? I began life as ‘Theresa McEvoy’ in North London, but my parents ran pubs and we moved to one in Billingshurst, West Sussex when I was around 11.
Coming from London and stepping off a train into that deserted village on a Sunday afternoon, I thought I’d moved to the end of the world. I rushed back to London as soon as I was old enough.
I studied English & Theatre Arts at Goldsmiths College, by which time most people were calling me ‘Ted’ or ‘Teddy’ instead of Theresa. I trained as a lighting designer, taking 4 shows to the Edinburgh Festival in the late 1990s and working in lots of fringe theatre venues around Central and South East London.
I did plenty of travelling and even lived in Australia for a while, before deciding it was time to curb the wanderlust and be a grown-up: I trained as an English and Drama teacher.
In my late 20s, I realised my parents might have been on to something, and moved right back to that deserted village. I taught for more than 25 years in schools in Surrey and Sussex as well as returning to Australia to teach in Hamilton, Western Victoria.
Before the pandemic, I’d accidentally become a ghostwriter, and as the writing contracts grew, I gradually stepped back from teaching, although I still teach run creative writing workshops from time to time. I made the leap and write full-time, (I’m just on ghostwritten book number 16), plus organise literary festivals.
This is fascinating, Ted. What vast ground you have covered!
When did poetry become a part of your life?
Poetry has always been there, I think. I wrote terrible poetry in my teens – about the storm of ‘87, the Gulf War, environmental disasters, things that were in the news. Very earnest and very awful. And I taught a lot of poetry over the years.
About 15 years ago I won a writing competition with a poem about becoming a mother, and that encouraged me to think I could do more. I finally published my first collection of poems, Silence & Selvedge, in 2024.
Oh I want a copy! We get that turning point, don’t we.
Who were your biggest influences?
My favourite poem as a child was I Saw a Jolly Hunter by Charles Causley. I learnt it by heart and thought it was hilarious. Another favourite, that I could probably still recite now, was Oh, I Wish I’d Looked After Me Teeth by Pam Ayres.
And I loved all the poems that snuck into Beatrix Potter’s stories.
As a student, I got heavily into Irish poetry (the McEvoy influence perhaps?), especially Yeats and Heaney. But Luke Wright has probably had the single biggest practical influence on my poetry life. I love his poetic word-play and the energy of his live shows.
I met him early on in my teaching career when he did a bunch of school performances and have been a fan ever since.
Oh Luke Wright! Swoon! He was the first performance poet I ever saw! Great influences, Ted.
Are you working on anything at the moment?
You know me, Heather, I don’t sit still. After coordinating the Farnham Literary Festival in March, and BilliLit in April, I’m performing in a theatre show at the Brighton Fringe for May. It’s called Mannequim. I co-wrote it with Lexy Medwell and it’s full of poetry, exploring all sorts of gender issues and tackling that question of what it means to be a woman. (Quite timely given last month’s controversial ruling.)
Then The Shrinking Girl, ghostwritten for Louise Allen, comes out in June. I’m directing one of my favourite plays for Billingshurst Dramatic Society, My Mother Said I Never Should by Charlotte Keatley, which will be on in July.
I have a couple of poetry events booked for August and September and then my second poetry pamphlet, The Pull of Water, will be out later in the autumn.
Well, I am bowled over at your prolificness. What a year you are going to have!
(Audience cheer in agreement).
Now, What’s the best poetry gig you’ve ever done. And the worst?!
My best poetry gig was for the Shelley Memorial Project in 2024, where my name was on the bill with Louis de Bernières (although he had a longer slot than my 15 minutes). I’ve framed the poster. Will I ever top that?
My worst was around 4 years ago in Steyning, a village which has a rather famous resident. There were about 20 of us in a pub doing a single poem each, which had to be Christmas-themed.
It was almost my turn, when a woman arrived late and squashed in beside me, thereby taking the next slot. She recited, by heart, a beautiful, wholesome poem about a Christmas tree, which had just been published as The Christmas Pine. It was only Julia feckin’ Donaldson – and I had to follow her with my sweary poem about buying crap gifts as Christmas presents. It was mortifying.
Oh what a story! Love it! I know Steyning! I’ll look at it in a different light now!
Thank you, Ted for being such a great guest
(cheers from the audience)
Do I really have to end this interview on ‘mortifying’? You’re mean! 😉
au contraire! The poetry party is just beginning. Let me just get my platforms on.
Our host searches frantically under her chair
Where are they?!
Our esteemed guest looks sheepish
Ted?! Are you wearing my platforms?!
Er – well, Dobby sold them to me at a reasonable price and er ….. She’s rumpled us, Dobby. Quick!
(Our guest and Dobby leg it up the lighted stairs)
Ted won’t be able to run very fast in those!
Well, it’s back to Freeman Hardy & Willis for me!
Wasn’t Ted a fantastic guest, PL’s?!
(ecstatic applause from the audience and a standing ovation)
Do look out for Ted, she’s a wonderful poet. For a copy of Ted’s book Silence & Selvedge, go to Ted’s website to order http://theresagooda.co.uk
Thanks for attending the talk show studio, Poetry Lovers. We’ll be back with more poetry action real soon….
Heather Moulson 