Spoke in Bees
I did a painting titled “Spoke in Bees” because I was irritated at my husband. We had an argument and he was saying the absolute worst crap to me (he plays to win) and then accusing me of saying really pointed barbs at him. And for once, I wasn’t.
We only argue about the most mundane stuff, of course, never big things. Later we always laugh about our disagreements, because they are usually silly in hindsight.
The original painting lives in a happy art collection but I do have prints.
I asked ChatGPT to write a poem about this artwork - just for fun.
She Spoke in Bees
She's an unhappy woman in love, With a man who thinks he's above, Her feelings and thoughts, they don't matter, He thinks his opinion's all that flatter.
She tries to voice her discontent, But her words always seem to augment, The pain that's already there, It's like her words are sharp, piercing air.
He accuses her of stinging like bees, But how else can she hope to appease, The anger and hurt that's been buried deep, In her heart, and it's hard to even sleep.
So she speaks, her words like knives, And he accuses her of ruining their lives, But it's not her fault, she's just trying to cope, With a love that's turned sour, and has no hope.
She dreams of a life where she's heard, Where her feelings are valued, and not blurred, But for now, she's stuck in this place, With a man who can't see her face.
So she'll keep speaking, her words sharp and strong, Hoping that someday he'll see where she's coming from, But until then, she'll continue to sting, Like a bee that's just trying to spread its wings.
◄ See the print in my art store ►