Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 114th. week vol. 2
By one drop, kinkan antihistamine applied, too hot it is. Or, by one drop, for painting a crown gold, too hot it is.
Only for you, no sooner are the words out of your mouth, under untrue. Or, only for you, no sooner are the words out of your mouth, a tongue tells a lie.
On Sunday, more gloomy than night, it rains.
Who hold a swan, a woman doesn’t find out, Leda it is.
“One more a minute”, to die in a microwave, Kyoko no. 14. Or, “One more a minute”, on today to die in a microwave, a child age 14.
posted =oyo= : 07:37 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)
Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 114th. week vol. 1
On the bath, to come out and be warped, a giant centipede does. Or, on the bath, to creep and be warped, a giant centipede does.
On your face, sweat semen, and odor of the old.
Appraisal of men, to stand in line, two cockheads there are.
To be left being bitten, to ask where she will go, in the deep throat. Or, about my biting mother, to ask where she will go, in the deep throat.
Three days ago, of a raking rake, to have dreamed a dream.
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2014年06月18日
Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 113th. week vol. 2
To hold you, loose hair on your ass, keeping not to pluck.
On this August, okiagari-koboshi a self-righting dharma doll featuring JSDF Japan Self-Defense Forces, standing.
In order to enjoy the cool, blue mold is walking at high noon under sunshine.
It’s your choice, this summer will come when you lose, or the summer when we had lost comes.
What to give a shuffle, dad mom grandpa or grandma, for your credit-card loan.
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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 113th. week vol. 1
A vendor selling soba at night calling, red green and white, three primary colors for mahjong.
On a white chair, yellow tracks are there.
On a holiday, not to put underwear, feeling like under restless.
Of dark blue cotton cloth, to try to follow the outline, closing to the edge of the sun.
On repeating what ordered by, being at a loose end, several tens of minutes it take.
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2014年06月11日
Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 112th. week vol. 2
Tracks something dragged, to be frightened, a dog snarls to the sky.
To thunders, a prostitute have thrown away, a bough of rose.
Into the forbidden zone, only left hand runs. Or, into the forbidden zone, only left wing runs.
At a white line on the platform, a clothes is there, ex-girlfriend had used to wear.
At a pool of puke, to flap their wings, white doves do.
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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 112th. week vol. 1
To be knocked out, as a bug creeping on earth, a sight I get to see.
Through downpipes on my house, feeling kind of faint, by low-pressure. Or, at a part of downpipes, feeling kind of faint, a low-pressure is cast ashore.
By unanimously, on right arms held up, the tops of their fingers.
To be exposed to the rain, and undergo necrosis, the doomsday comes.
To get back their younger days, two old men into the orgone box. Or, to hire bitches, , two old men into the orgone box.
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2014年06月04日
Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 111th. week an addendum
To pretend not to see, to wet it, on removing her stray hairs.
From the other side of the river Lethe, heartbeats through the noise, Sister Ray said.
More than my tits doing, to be trembling harder, your hand.
Down to the abyss, on right side of the front wheels, falls fell and fallen.
To eat her, and be chipped, a block of tofu served cold there is.
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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 111th. week vol. 2
In the heat of the night on rainy season, from the room next to mine, a pillow talk I hear.
An icebox, to have something up his sleeve, is thrilled with ecstasy. Or, an ice box, something in it, is suffering.
On a sketchbook for a child, to be drawn down, a body suicide by hanging.
To be put to my shifts, like a monkey toy, by spring action.
Glad to have being living in the same times with, and attend a funeral with sorrow.
posted =oyo= : 05:34 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)
Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 111th. week vol. 1
A dishwasher, rouge on a glass, licking softly.
As a one of the suspects, a child to take part in, be listed up.
A hand on his microphone, symbolisme for his crucifixion, Jim Morison was.
Not to be my real intention, by a person’s expression, in the summer in my love. Or, not to be my real intention, by a person’s expression, harry up summer to come.
Godzilla howles, to be rotten and be withered, rainy at the night of May.
posted =oyo= : 05:32 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)
2014年05月28日
Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 110th. week an addendum
Attacked by a stone, chirping like an fly, under the bridge. Or, attacked by a stone, chirping like an fly, under chopsticks.
This wall gets wet, lies come off, to prop them up this is why I stay here.
At this side of the Sanzu River, on the top of the mountain last year, a stone for building cairn there is.
On a white flower, asymmetry wings a butterfly has, to suck nectar from.
A shirachigo, a pupil for Inugami, to write something down just for fun, impure it becomes.
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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days,the 110th. week vol. 2
Smell from under her arm, to open the mirrors of her dressing table, four quads in there.
At the first time, to have experienced the terrible, to get hooked on this.
Princess Uriko born in a melon, to be lost her heart in love, shaved ice eaton. Or, princess Uriko born in a melon, to ought to be taken by force, shaved ice eaton.
In the scene of breaking her cherry, on the stage to mark where they should stand, the serpent under the sunshine like a spotlight. Or, in the scene of breaking her cherry, on the stage to mark where they should stand, a heavy drinker bathing in the sun like a spotlight.
Two razors, fixed by three fingers, to sign on.
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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 110th. week vol. 1
An anile a toothless woman, smiling in glee, on this December.
Farewell words, sometimes to write and elide, days in my life.
At 5 pm, to miss a money offering, it looks like singing “Minnie The Moocher” to look for.
For changeling, to our final abode, cuckoo comes.
A spoon, syringes, and a gas hob don’t you need?
posted =oyo= : 11:48 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)
2014年05月21日
Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 109th. week vol. 2
Poppies has died, no one who should be evoked, only an magick circle are left.
To grip a bone tightly, to forget and see this scene, when we are apes.
Be in an ecstasy by india ink, to see it again, in brilliant coloring psychedelically.
12 colored pencils with her, only the flesh‐colored, shorten has been.
Along this road, to forget to sing his songs, how about a canary what we should do.
posted =oyo= : 04:57 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)
Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 109th. week vol.1
Beaver beaver, licking the bodies, wind blows to shine.
The Sun goes down, with an aborted, playing red rover.
At the tower in Mt. Kunlun, to climb and see, an ogre the lonely.
Against god of thunder, for battle flags, a bib for him.
Sinking in my bed, my mobile phone has thrown, on early time in my business.
posted =oyo= : 04:55 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)
2014年05月14日
Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 108th. week vol. 3
Off white cloth with indigo splash patterns, some scars to be torn there, wrinkles on the hip.
A shadow he steps on, to praise it, a man in his night.
Be caught in a summer shower, of the wife in the house next door, to hear her pillow talks.
To pick up a stone, in order to hit another stone far, just only to throw it. Or, to pick up a stone, in order to hit a will of another person, just only to throw it. Otherwise, To pick up a stone, in order to hit another doctor far, just only to throw it.
There is red blood in front of me, I can create the bodies behind me.
posted =oyo= : 05:29 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)
Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 108th. week vol. 2
Someday to take, than a photo of my deceased, older I’ve got.
A mirror is broken, to be reflected in one of, an utter stranger there.
A couple of spoons, for “Le Coup du berger”, fish balls in.
Never now, not to have seen, with the eyes of Janus.
By twos and threes coming they are, hardly to redeem those who, on Sunday morning.
posted =oyo= : 05:27 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)
Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 108th. week vol. 1
In a storm with flower blossoms, a daughter of Yaksha, combing her hair.
Gripping rusty chains, to get on a swing and pump your legs, dog turd I find.
You don’t know to preach the humanity, how taste it is.
You the mono-eye, on your only eye, here to piss.
On a spoonful, of a rainbow's egg, its gooey threads.
posted =oyo= : 05:25 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)
2014年05月07日
Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 107th. week
Your Willy, that day by your hand, what are you doing now, mother?
Cans standing in, to a tee, following circle ratio.
Light of a mosquito smudge to turn on, May has come exactly, just sleepy I am. Or, light of a mosquito smudge to turn on, making Plans for Satsuki, just sleepy I am.
To crop your hair, on your brain, rat-a-tat to drill a hole in.
Roll up roll up though, a bucket still still, at the bottom of the well. Or, to search my mind about the name though, a bucket has not reach yet, at the bottom of my memory.
posted =oyo= : 05:35 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)
2014年04月30日
Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 106th. week an addendum
Like a barber's pole, a swarm mosquitoes round and round, sounds of siren I hear.
A flower a beautiful flower, to grimace his face, to draw it.
In between two her fingers, toword no one in particular, the edge of a razor blade to hold up over her head.
To draw a perfect circle, to purr and roll, a soy sauce cruet does.
Doing a handstand, eyes of the soles of the feet, not to hear this. Or, doing a handstand, eyes of the soles of the feet, to hear now.
posted =oyo= : 18:20 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)
Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 106th. week vol. 3
Joe not appeared yet, with a sandbag and a melon bread, waiting for.
On her tip of a toe, bean jam how sweet, pretty it’s nice.
To make a farewell call, to Kaspar Hauser, wetting his bed.
Another one year, to wait and set a fire to, a little match seller does.
You had gone, try to gather, hairs on our pillows.
posted =oyo= : 04:24 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)