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

Emily Dickinson

A razor to leg, a gentle glide
The blade is deft, side to side
Removing hairs, smooth as silk
A ritual, like fine-tuned milk

A creamy lather, soft and white
A fragrant scent, a lovely sight
It covers skin, a gentle kiss
Preparing legs for day's abyss

Oh, how the razor hums its tune
As it slides, with lightness and swoon
A trusty tool, a loyal friend
On which I always can depend

And when the task is finally through
And the morning's freshness shines anew
I step outside, with newfound grace
A smooth-shaved leg, a happy pace

Like Emily, I too can say
That shaving's art in every way
A simple task, yet so refined
A daily joy, that soothes the mind.

Edit: I had to remind the A.I. that she would have probably written about leg shaving, not face shaving. This is the rewritten result. Not bad.

 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Shaving Love's Passions.

How do I love thee, let me count the ways,
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My razor can reach, when I shave my legs at night.

I love thee purely, as I rid my skin of hair,
And I love thee with a passion that can’t compare,
As I slide the blade over every inch with care.

I love thee with the ease of a flick of the wrist,
And with the softness of skin, as smooth as mist,
I love thee with a joy that cannot be missed.

I love thee with the confidence of bare legs on display,
And I love thee with a boldness that will not sway,
As I show off my freshly shaved legs today.

I love thee with the pleasure of a job well done,
And I love thee with the satisfaction of a battle won,
As I revel in the glory of smooth legs in the sun.

I love thee with a love that grows stronger each day,
And I will love thee till my dying breath, I pray,
For thou hast made my leg shaving a joy every day.

Edit: Such a weak, weak, effort by the A.I. *sad horn noises*

 

Sylvia Plath

"Bare: A Shaving Ritual"

The blade against my tender skin,
I drag it down with faltering hand.
The sound of metal slicing in
Echoes through this barren land.

Each stroke leaves behind a trail of red,
A testament to the pain I bear.
I grit my teeth, refusing to be led
By the fear that grips me in its snare.

I've been taught to tame this wild growth,
To make myself more presentable.
But the price I pay is steep indeed,
A sacrifice in a world so unforgivable.

The mirror reflects my every move,
Each cut a symbol of my strife.
I see a body I barely know,
A stranger in this way of life.

And as I scrape away the hair,
I wonder what it means to be
A woman in a world so cruel,
That prizes only what it can see.

For every stroke is a reminder
Of the beauty that I must uphold,
Of the standards that I must adhere to,
Of the lies that I've been sold.

So I continue on, each swipe a slice,
A ritual that's come to define me.
A battle I wage every single day,
A war that no one else can see.

Edit: Wow. Makes Edgar Allen Poe look like a ray of sunshine, doesn't she?

 

Not really. But I lost interest in this when I found out it was much better at weaseling out historical sharpening stone quarry locations in Oregon than Google is, and can usually tell me if the stone is suitable for razors.

Of course some stuff it just flat out gets wrong.

I will let other people continue this thread, if they so desire. It's a fun diversion.

 

I'll admit that since I discovered 8D audio mixing, I'll sometimes pop on headphones during a shave, and search up some favorite songs in 8D on YouTube. Disturbed's the sound of silence is particularly good in 8D.

8D is a particular form of music remixing, that pans the sound from ear to ear. Done right, it feels as though the musicians are singing while walking around you.