Author Archives: Bobby Seal

About Bobby Seal

Freelance writer, poet and psychogeographer

The Flow of Time: Lockdown, Day 40

Dirty old river, must you keep rolling Flowing into the night? People so busy, make me feel dizzy Taxi light shines so bright. Ray Davies – Waterloo Sunset The Thames now is a whole lot cleaner than when Ray Davies … Continue reading

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The Flow of Time: Lockdown, Day 39

Even the anatomy of a river was laid bare. Not far downstream was a dry channel where the river had run once, and part of the way to come to know a thing is through its death. But years ago … Continue reading

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The Flow of Time: Lockdown, Day 38

Time is the river on which the leaves of our thoughts are carried into oblivion. Doris Lessing – The Golden Notebook   How do you sleep? How do you sleep at night? John Lennon For me, one of the biggest … Continue reading

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The Flow of Time: Lockdown, Day 37

The crossing was over. They were arriving. The movement of the little steamer that had collected the passengers from the packet-boat drove the raw air against Miriam’s face. In her tired brain the grey river and the flat misty shores … Continue reading

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The Flow of Time: Lockdown, Day 36

In a breath, the river that flows through our Sunday walks is sparkling in the summer sun, is ruffled by the winter wind, or thickened with drifting heaps of ice. Charles Dickens – David Copperfield         Picture … Continue reading

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The Flow of Time: Lockdown, Day 35

It was remarkable how the races that had gone to his making had each left its signature on the river bank; often over and over, as children on gates and walls scrawl the names of those amongst them who are … Continue reading

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The Flow of Time: Lockdown, Day 34

In Liverpool, I beheld long China walls of masonry; vast piers of stone; and a succession of granite-rimmed docks, completely enclosed, and many of them communicating, which almost recalled to mind the great American chain of lakes: Ontario, Erie, St. … Continue reading

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The Flow of Time: Lockdown, Day 33

I was lucky, I am lucky. I came bursting out of the water and into the light with a great gasp, a loud heaving that you’d have thought people on the river bank would have been able to hear. There … Continue reading

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The Flow of Time: Lockdown, Day 32

The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the ocean, The winds of heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one spirit meet and … Continue reading

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The Flow of Time: Lockdown, Day 31

The old river in its broad reach rested unruffled at the decline of day, after ages of good service done to the race that peopled its banks, spread out in the tranquil dignity of a water way leading to the … Continue reading

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