It’s been some time since we started reading an article here at Inventura about the sexual life of drones. The article says, among other things, that the role of a drone is to fertilize the queen bee and that the engagement ritual of bees is beautiful, “but very unusual, compared to human experience. Imagine that the queen bee mates at a drone congregation area with several (up to eight) drones at the same time. Every drone dies after mating, the queen bee goes back to her hive and never again returns to the drone congregation area. Even if  the queen bee does not let a drone mate with her at least once, the drone dies. Either his body is not able to cope with the inflow of sperm inside him and it literally bursts, or the drone dies “homeless” – in July and August, bees drive all drones out of the hive, because their reproduction period is over for them and the new one will start again only around May of the next year.” (source: Medotvořitelé, http://vcelky.blogspot.com )

Inventura’s workshop of creative writing is full of talent with a sense for detail; this is why we shared the text with them and let them work with the topic in a genre of their choice.

Josef Fojt - poem

As soon as the drone had done his duty

the queen bees turned naughty

and chased him out of the hive

that’s why I don’t envy drones their life.

All of a sudden they lose their illusion

and die alone and in seclusion.

Josef Fojt - feature

I wouldn’t enjoy being a drone. What a terrible notion – that I would only fertilise the queen bee and immediately after that die a miserable death. Moreover, the queen bee would be unfaithful to me with other drones from the neighbourhood. Or I would have no fun at all and die anyway. Or the notion that between July and August I would become a homeless drone; that’s not pleasant either. And my appearance would be far from that of prince charming, I’d look more like a barrel. What joys of life would I have? None, none, and again none! It’s beautiful to be human. And if there’s a problem, there’s a solution to it. I like being human, a human who’s not jealous of drones.

Tereza Hausserová - poem

The bee hive is full of life

the bees throng

sweets are rife

they won’t be here for long.

They’re guarding their little secret

the drone – just a supply of sperm

his existence has no other prospect.

The drone is a man for just one turn

after mating with the queen it dies poor and alone

miserable, little, chubby drone

wasting away in a corner.