I made an A.I. write poems about shaving...

Sure, here's a poem about shaving in the style of Walt Whitman:

I sing the art of shaving, that daily ritual grand,
Where face and blade meet, in close and intimate band,
Oh how the razor glides, with motion smooth and fleet,
And lathers coat the skin, with soft and creamy heat.

The razor's edge so keen, it cuts the bristles fine,
And shaves away the growth, with each and every line,
The cheeks and chin, the upper lip, all smooth and clean and bright,
As though the razor's touch, had kissed away the night.

And yet this act of shaving, is more than just routine,
For as we bare our face, we strip away the sheen,
Of social masks and facades, that hide our truest selves,
And leave us raw and real, exposed on shaving shelves.

So let us shave with care, with mindfulness and grace,
And with each stroke of blade, embrace our human race,
For in this act of shaving, we find a deeper truth,
That we are all connected, in our quest for radiant youth.

Edit: A bit nonsensical, but not bad.

 

Hey, it's your girl Cardi B
And I'm here to talk about shaving, you see
Gotta keep it clean and smooth, that's the key
So let me tell you all about my shaving routine

First things first, gotta grab my razor
Make sure it's sharp and ready to savor
Apply some shaving cream, gotta savor
And then I start to shave, like a true player

Gotta go slow, gotta go steady
Don't wanna cut myself, that's just deadly
Smooth strokes, gotta be ready
To slay that hair, oh so heavy

Once I'm done, gotta rinse it off
Make sure it's all gone, not a single hair scoffed
Then I moisturize, gotta be soft
And ready for whatever comes across

That's my shaving routine, you see
Gotta keep it clean and smooth, like a queen bee
So take some notes and learn from me
And your shaving game will be on fleek, you'll see!

Edit: Garbage in, garbage out. By far the worst one. This will probably surprise absolutely no one except Cardi B.

 

Robert Frost

Shaving Poem.

In the morning's quiet light,
I approach my bathroom mirror bright,
And with my razor sharp and keen,
I begin my daily shaving routine.

I stroke the blade against my cheek,
Each pass precise, each movement sleek,
The stubble falls like autumn leaves,
As I scrape away with practiced ease.

The razor whispers soft and low,
A gentle hum, a soothing flow,
And with each stroke, I feel the weight,
Of years gone by, of life's long fate.

For as I shave, I contemplate,
The choices made, the roads I've taken,
And wonder if I've lived my life,
In a way that's true, devoid of strife.

But in the end, as whiskers fall,
And my face emerges smooth and tall,
I know that I can face the day,
With confidence and newfound sway.

For in this simple act of shaving,
I find a peace, a quiet raving,
And though my thoughts may wander far,
I am at peace, beneath the morning star.

Edit: Decent. Some odd rhyming choices, like 'sway' and 'raving.'

 

Write a poem about shaving in the style of Robert burns.

ChatGPT
As I took up my trusty razor keen, And gazed upon my whiskers wild and green, I pondered on the task at hand, To shave my face, oh what demand!

With lather thick upon my skin, I drew the blade with steady grin, And felt it slice through stubble tough, Leaving my chin as smooth as snuff.

But though my razor may be fine, And leave no hair upon my line, It cannot tame the wild within, That makes me who I am, my kin.

So let my whiskers grow and thrive, A symbol of the man alive, And though I may be rough and gruff, My heart is kind, my soul enough.

So let me shave or let me be, A man who lives life wild and free, And though my face may change each day, My spirit stays the same alway.


Re-write it using Scottish idioms.

ChatGPT
As I took up ma trusty razor keen, And gazed upon ma thistles wild and green, I pondered on the task at haun', Tae shave ma face, oh whit demand!

Wi' lather thick upon ma skin, I drew the blade wi' steady grin, And felt it slice through stubble tough, Leavin' ma chin as smooth as snuff.

But tho' ma razor may be fine, And leave nae hair upon ma line, It cannae tame the wild within, That makes me wha I am, ma kin.

So let ma thistles grow and thrive, A symbol of the man alive, And tho' I may be rough and gruff, Ma heart is kind, ma soul enough.

So let me shave or let me be, A man who lives life wild and free, And tho' ma face may change each day, Ma spirit stays the same alway.

Edit: One of my favorites. I'd say it nailed this one, once it rewrote it properly.

 

Write a poem about shaving in the style of Donald Trump and Joe Biden, with each writing alternate stanzas. Frame it as a debate between traditional and modern shaving, using their speech mannerisms.

ChatGPT
Trad vs Mod Shave

Trump: I shave the way my father did, With foam and razor, not some fancy kid. Traditional methods, tried and true, Are the only way to get a proper shave, it's true.

Biden: Now hold on there, my friend, Modern times call for a different trend. With electric razors and gels so slick, You'll get a close shave that'll do the trick.

Trump: But where's the joy, the sense of pride, In letting machines do what hands should decide? The process is just as important as the result, And a traditional shave is what we should exalt.

Biden: I hear your point, and I respect your view, But modern shaving has some tricks up its sleeve too. Quick and efficient, it's perfect for busy days, And you can still get a close shave in many ways.

Trump: I see what you mean, but it's just not the same, A traditional shave is like a badge of honor, it's not a game. The skill and technique passed down through the years, Is something we should cherish, not just shed tears.

Biden: I hear your passion, and I feel your pain, But modern shaving is not a thing to disdain. It's all about choice, and what works for you, So let's embrace both methods and bid adieu.

In the end, it's up to you and your preference, Choose what feels right and makes the most sense. Traditional or modern, it's all up to you, Just make sure you're happy with what you do.

Edit: Not bad. I don't think it captured either man's speech patterns well. Biden was coherent, and Trump was subdued, which is unlike either.

 

I crack myself up.


...and A.I. is going to take over the world.

 

Write a poem about shaving in the style of Edgar Allen Poe.

The Mirror's Edge

In the morning light, I stand before The glass that holds a secret door, To the world of the man within, Whose beard grows wild upon his skin.

The razor's edge, a deadly friend, As I begin to make amends, With the face that I've neglected so, And shave away its scruffy glow.

The foam upon my face, it clings, As I begin to make the stinging, Cuts upon my skin so fair, With every stroke, a thought of fear.

For in the mirror, I see the truth, Of all the years, the pain and youth, That I have lived, and I have lost, And all the time that's been the cost.

But as I shave away the hair, And rid myself of all despair, I see a face that's free and clear, And in the mirror, I hold dear.

For though the razor's edge is sharp, And cuts away with every harp, It also brings a sense of peace, And lets my inner turmoil cease.

So in the morning light, I stand, With razor in my trembling hand, And face the mirror, true and clear, As I begin another year.

Edit: This one is pretty bad. It wrote a better one, and had lines about cutting himself shaving, and crimson fountains of gore, but it didn't copy properly and the chatbot didn't save it.

 

Write a poem about shaving as if written by a drunk Irishman. Use Irish slang and idiom.

ChatGPT

Shavin' With The Lads.

Oi, let me tell ya ‘bout shavin’
It’s a task I do every mornin’
With me razor and me foam
I get rid of me facial lawn

It’s a thing ya gotta do, lads
If ya wanna look sharp and clean
Ya don’t wanna walk around town
Lookin’ like a shaggy bean

But shavin’ ain’t no easy feat
Especially when ya had a few pints
Ya gotta be careful with that blade
Or ya might end up in a fight

I remember one time, lads
I was shavin’ in a pub loo
And I nicked me skin so bad
I thought me life was through

But I grabbed a piece of toilet paper
And I dabbed it on me face
And I kept on shavin’ like a champ
With grace and with good pace

So here’s to shavin’, lads
May it be a task we do with pride
And may we never nick our skin
No matter how much we’ve imbibed

Edit: I actually really like this one.

 

I had it write another one in the same style.

The Shavin' Dance

Come listen to me story, lads
Of shavin’ and its glory, lads
It’s a daily ritual we do
To make ourselves look brand new

With a razor in me hand, I start
Latherin’ up me face, so smart
I take a deep breath and begin
Movin’ that blade against me skin

It’s a dance, ya see, a delicate art
A maneuverin’ of blade and heart
Ya gotta be careful not to slip
Or you’ll be bleedin’ like a bloody ship

Sometimes I nick me skin, it’s true
And then I let out a loud “hoo”
I grab some toilet paper, quick
And stop the blood, just like a trick

But when it’s done, me face is grand
All shaven and smooth like sand
I look at meself in the mirror
And I feel like a new man, I swear

So here’s to shavin’, me friends
A task that never really ends
But it’s worth it, don’t ya know
To see our faces all aglow

Edit: not as good as that first one, but the last four lines are a banger.

 

William Wadsworth Longfellow

Title: The Art of Shaving

Listen, my friends, and you shall hear
Of the art of shaving, so very dear
With blade in hand and face prepared
A man begins his daily care

Smooth strokes upon his tender skin
He trims his beard, he clips his chin
And as he shaves, his thoughts take flight
To times of old and deeds of might

For shaving is an ancient craft
That once was done with skill and tact
A ritual cherished, passed down with care
From father to son, heir to heir

In days of yore, it was an art
That spoke of honor, grace, and heart
And even now, it holds a place
In the hearts of those who seek its grace

So let us praise this noble deed
And cherish it, as it doth need
For in the act of shaving, we find
A moment of peace, a tranquil mind.

Edit: Pretty decent.

 

William Shakespeare

Title: A Sonnet on Shaving

When morning sun doth paint the sky with gold,
And gentle breeze doth stir the leaves on trees,
I rise from bed, my face all rough and cold,
And with my razor set to work, to please.

The blade doth dance upon my cheek with grace,
And sculpts my beard to match my will and mind,
A task that many men do oft embrace,
And yet, each time, new pleasure doth we find.

For as the hair doth fall beneath the steel,
And smoothness takes its place upon my skin,
I feel anew, as if with youthful zeal,
And know that I have banished age and sin.

So let me shave each morn with skill and care,
And keep my face as fresh as morning air.

Edit: Meh. It 'sounds' alright, but it missed the mark on this one, I think.

 

The band, Disturbed

Title: Shave the Sickness

Razor sharp against my skin,
As I begin to shave the sin,
I feel the weight of my daily strife,
Falling away with every swipe.

The foam and cream, they comfort me,
As I scrape away my misery,
The blade it whispers in my ear,
"Let go of everything you fear."

I feel the burn, but I press on,
Knowing that when it's all gone,
I'll feel the freedom that I crave,
And rise above the things that enslave.

So shave away the sickness now,
And leave behind the sweat on my brow,
For in this moment, I am strong,
And my spirit sings its victory song.

So let the razor do its work,
As I reclaim my soul from the murk,
For shaving is a cleansing flame,
And I am reborn once again.

Edit: This one is... Meh.

 

Write a story about wet shaving in the style of Jack London.

Alaskan Shaving Ritual

In the cold, rugged land of Alaska, a man's morning ritual was not complete without a proper wet shave. The sound of a straight razor honing against a leather strop echoed through the cabin as the man prepared for another day of hard work in the unforgiving wilderness.

The man was a trapper by trade, and he knew the importance of presenting himself well to his fellow men. But more than that, he knew the value of a sharp blade against his skin. It was a reminder of the dangers he faced every day and the importance of staying alert and focused.

As he lathered up his face with a brush and soap, he couldn't help but think back to his days in the city. Shaving had been a chore then, a tedious task to be rushed through before rushing off to work. But out here, in the wild, it was a ritual to be savored.

With steady hands, he drew the blade across his face, feeling the satisfying tug of hair as it was sliced away. He knew the risks of using such a sharp instrument, but he also knew the rewards. A close, clean shave was a mark of a man who took pride in himself and his appearance.

As he finished, he splashed his face with cold water, feeling the refreshing sting against his skin. He wiped away the remaining soap with a towel, taking a moment to examine his reflection in the mirror. He was a rugged man, weathered by the elements, but his clean-shaven face gave him a touch of refinement.

He sheathed the razor and took a deep breath, ready for another day of adventure and hard work. He knew that out here, in the wilds of Alaska, a man's life could depend on his wits and his tools. And a sharp razor was one tool he was never without.

Edit: Not bad. Not bad at all. We'll probably be reading A.I. generated novels in 5 years.

 

In the style of Dante Alighieri

The Shaving Journey: A Dantean Quest

Midst bristles thick and wild and long,
I sought to tame my unkempt face,
To rid myself of hair's disgrace,
And make my visage pure and strong.

The razor sharp, the foam prepared,
I took it in my trembling hand,
And with a prayer I made a stand,
To cleanse my chin of all that's spared.

As Dante journeyed through the dark,
I too did venture to the depths,
To rid myself of whiskers vexed,
And carve a path towards the mark.

The razor blade, a shining star,
Did guide me through the stubbled maze,
And as I shaved, I offered praise,
To God above, both near and far.

And when at last my task was done,
And face was smooth as marble stone,
I felt a sense of pride and known,
That I had conquered, and had won.

Thus Dante sought to purge his soul,
Of all that hindered his ascent,
And I too sought a similar bent,
To make myself again, once whole.

Edit: Terrible. I think it missed the mark on this one.

 

Write a poem about shaving in the style of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.

With razor in hand, I begin to shave,
As the morning sun starts to gently wave,
Each hair I trim, each whisker I slay,
A smooth visage I'll have this day.

The lather spreads across my skin,
As I feel the razor blade begin,
A careful touch, a gentle hand,
I carve away the stubble, unplanned.

In every stroke, a new face appears,
As I scrape away the growth of years,
A youthful glow, a newfound grace,
A smooth complexion, a new embrace.

Oh, shaving, how you do transform,
My face, my soul, my very form,
Each pass I take, each hair I sever,
A brand new me, I'll be forever.

So let us raise a mug of foam,
And toast to shaving, our daily tome,
For in its art, we find delight,
And keep our faces, ever bright.

Edit: Not bad. Lacks imagination. Captured the style pretty well though.

 

In the style of Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

In front of mirror, blade in hand,
I prepare to make my visage grand,
With lather white and razor keen,
To shear away what once has been.

The brush, it swirls with gentle grace,
As I spread foam across my face,
And with a stroke both sure and slow,
The whiskers yield, reluctant, go.

As each bristle falls away,
I am transformed, day by day,
And with each pass, a newer me,
Is born, as if by alchemy.

Oh razor, friend and faithful guide,
With you, my fears and doubts subside,
And in the looking glass I see,
A man renewed, reborn, set free.

So shave on, shave on, with skill and art,
And let each stroke be true in heart,
For with each pass, a new day starts,
And life is lived with greater hearts.

Edit: Pretty decent.

 

In the style of Rudyard Kipling.

In days of old, when men were bold,
And razor blades were scarce,
A beard upon a manly chin
Was worn with great éclat.

But times have changed, and now we find
That shaving is the rule,
And razors sharp, with blades like knives,
Are used as a man's tool.

For now we know that cleanliness
Is next to godliness,
And that a well-shaved man is one
Whose face is free of mess.

So take your razor in your hand,
And lather up your face,
And shave away the stubble
With a manly, manly grace.

For though it be a simple task,
It is a thing of pride,
To know that you have done it well,
And wear a clean-shaved hide.

So let us all take up the blade,
And shave with might and main,
And know that we are men of worth,
Who will not grow hair in vain.

Edit: This one's kinda bad, borderline okayish.

 

Write a poem about shaving as an act that glorifies God and Jesus Christ.

Shaving, oh shaving, a ritual of care,
A daily act we often share,
But let us not forget, my friend,
That this act can glorify till the end.

For as we shave, we are reminded
Of the way our savior bled,
His face and body marred with scars,
In love, He gave His all for ours.

With each stroke of the razor's blade,
We remember the price He paid,
The sacrifice that set us free,
And the grace that flows eternally.

And in this act, we can offer praise,
For the life we have in countless ways,
For the mercy and love we've received,
And the hope that in Him we believe.

So as we shave, let our hearts sing,
Of the beauty that comes with new beginnings,
Of the joy that comes in knowing Him,
And the peace that comes from being cleansed from sin.

For shaving can be more than just a chore,
It can be an act of worship, to adore,
The One who gave us life and breath,
And in His love, we find our rest.

Shaving, oh shaving, a daily routine,
But with each stroke, we can redeem,
A simple act that glorifies,
The One who reigns above the skies.

Edit: Surprisingly good.

 

Write a poem in Victorian English describing a straight razor.

Oh, wondrous tool, the straight razor bright,
In glimmering steel it doth delight,
With shining blade so thin and true,
A gentleman's grooming it can imbue.

Its weighty handle, of polished bone,
Doth feel so sturdy, yet ever prone
To slip within the hand so deft,
And with a flick, its work be left.

It doth require a steady hand,
And patience too, to make it grand,
For with each stroke it must be laid,
In perfect balance, else it stray.

But when its task is deftly done,
No finer grooming can be won,
For with a straight razor's careful art,
A man's visage doth shine apart.

So let us honor this tool divine,
And the craft that makes it so refined,
For in a straight razor, we see,
A true testament to man's mastery.

Edit: This one actually caught me off guard by how good it is.

 

I had it write a poem about shaving that glorified Islam, with quotes from the Quaran. It turns out that shaving of the beard isn't forbidden by Islam, but shaving of the privates and underarms is strongly encouraged. Weird. Learned something new today.

Also the A.I. sucks at writing Islamic poetry in English. Very sketchy rhyming.

With faith in my heart and a mind clear,
I begin the act of shaving, without any fear.
For cleanliness is a virtue dear,
And in Islam, this is a principle so clear.

As I prepare my face with water and soap,
I am mindful of Allah's teachings, a great hope.
For He commands us to purify ourselves,
In body, mind, and spirit, to reach our highest selves.

For in the Quran, we find guidance and light,
To lead us on the path that is right.
And so, with each stroke of the blade,
I remember Allah's words, never to fade.

For in this act of shaving, I glorify Islam,
And follow the teachings of the Prophet's sunnah, a great program.
For a well-groomed face is a sign of respect,
To Allah, to oneself, and to others, without neglect.

So let the razor glide upon my skin,
And with each stroke, let purity begin.
For in Islam, we strive for perfection,
And in this act of shaving, we show our devotion.

As the Quran teaches us in Surah Al-Ma'idah,
"O you who believe! Fulfill all obligations,"
So I fulfill my obligation to cleanliness and neatness,
And in doing so, I am closer to Allah's greatness.

For in the Quran, we are reminded time and again,
To purify ourselves, both in body and soul, and refrain
From all that is unclean and impure,
For Allah loves those who strive to be pure.

And so, with each stroke of the blade,
I remember Allah's teachings, never to evade.
For in this act of shaving, I am blessed,
And closer to Allah, who knows and sees us best.