Words for you

Here we publish weekly words for your enjoyment…. check this page regularly for words from our community, especially for you!



Published online weekly, here, for you!

Viral Verses are verses created by members of our artistic community in response to the virus that has gone viral. The content here will remain for one week and each Thursday we will post new verses. You only have one week to read these artists work! Please help this page to go viral, and share these verses wide and far by circulating the link to this page and using the hashtag #viralverses and tagging us @DirectorsCutTC

This weeks Viral Verses are brought to you by artists in our community from and/or based in Camden, London, Ipswich, Dorset, Oxford, UK.

Thank you! We hope you enjoy them…


Viral Verses – Week 6




I don’t know what I’m writing.

Nothing exciting

I’m sure.

I don’t wanna bore

You with more

Repetitive indoor

Creative outpour,

But I’m bored.


Now I have time

To make

But I can’t seem to find

That button in my mind

To create.

Imagination declined

Productively blind,

I’m fake.

Left behind

By the grind,


To the game

And I’m to blame,

I should be doing more,

But I’m bored.

“Do something constructive”

“Now is the time to be productive”

“Or active”

“It’s positive”

“Everyone’s got something to give”

“If you don’t then you can’t live

And claim that you’re a creative.”


Come on its time to type, Oriana.

Why don’t you write Oriana?

You have no drive Oriana.

You’re just sitting inside Oriana.

Why WON’T you write Oriana?

Because I’m blank,

There are no thoughts to crank out

I’m sat now

Ready to work, but how?

When my excitement to do this shit has sank down.

I can’t force my brain

To stimulate

So instead I’ll redecorate

Or facetime my mates

Maybe illustrate,


Nah, I’ll stay up late,

Then caffeinate

And I’ll do this day after day after day after day.

Anything to take my mind away

From the fact I can’t concentrate.


Give me the chance and I’ll be sure to waste it.

It’s hard not to feel like you’re failing

When you’ve been complaining 

That “You haven’t got time”

Then suddenly you find

Being busy actually keeps your mind

In line.

When I’m doing more, 

I can do more

But now I’m bored.

I hope someone can relate.

I don’t wanna slate 

Anyone whose been doing well

I mean it’s great

Honestly  swell.

And I appreciate 

And celebrate 

All you creatives


While isolating.

But know if you’re struggling

Just muddling 


Then know you are doing good.

You don’t have to come out of this sorted

With a skill

Or a novel

Or an album

There’s no shortage

Of that

You don’t have to have it all

You’re cool.

Just recoup

If you must,

Until we all regroup

There’s no rush.

There’s too much


to come out of this better,

But there’s different way to be better

And no one’s saying whether

You’re a failure 

Or not 

Just because you got

Given the gift of time 

And let it slide.

You can’t force it.

Just do what you can

That’s what’s important.


By Oriana Charles, member of The Actors Club, based in Camden, London, UK



Where Angels Dare

Strange times in places
A thousand new cases
Long way at home
We’re numb to the bone

Like bolts of light
ripped crimson night
Our souls came aware
We stand where Angels dare

It crossed the sea
Like a long lost refugee
Burnt by the flame
Of another ‘what a shame’

Hell is never too far
In Amens Hallelujah
Disguised in a kiss
Now with a Devils wish

Touch of your hand
Now that is banned
Destiny made us aware
We’ll all stand where Angels dare


by Sharon Facinelli, member of The Actors Club, from Oxford, based in South Shields, England, UK




These speculations

In the Far East

They claim

Ending the War early

In 1945
Saved more lives

Than those that

Were blown in the air

At Hiroshima and



These mitigations

These equations


And now

They say
The dead economy

Will cause


Famine and Disease

Losing more lives

Than those that

The virus devours

The old



If the lockdown lifts


And we all need a haircut, for Chrissake.


These justifications


Don’t ask any tinpot God

He left town a while back


Lift this rock

Watch the wriggle and scatter

Of insect life

And when the weight is unsustainable


You’ll get it.


by Pete Talman, member of The Writers Club, from Ipswich, based in Dorset, England, UK

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