Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 104th. week vol. 2

Of the rookie, to get his shoulder injury, and Dutch hyacinth grows.
To dream a dream you say, a lie to be taken advantage of it is, beside you understand that.
At the kitchen to come down with an illness, a milestone to the hell, a pot should be.
On facing my death, to meet and love you again. Or, to ask my death for, to meet and love you again.
Let’s run away, to close the toilet seat cover, we forget.

posted =oyo= : 05:47 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 104th. week vol. 1

Like having your foot in the grave, to smash under your foot, on a field of flowers.
A property those who depends on, will want to be swallowed by it.
Snowmelt comes, the invisible men will come, it’s the time of the season for. Or, snowmelt comes, from this time, the invisible man I’ve been.
Smells booze and pee, at the theater for yakuza movies.
To try to assimilate with me, put her arms around my neck.

posted =oyo= : 05:44 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2014年04月09日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 103rd. week vol. 2

Also the twins, to be stepping on, a tail of rainbow.
Blood on hot water in the bath, a drop of fallin’, to make it thin.
Water have flowed away, fire on a match, like a scene by Andrei Tarkovsky.
From 4th to 14th, it will go over the Atlantic.
Water gets warm in spring, to roll your sleeves up above your knee, it makes parallel lines.

posted =oyo= : 06:42 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 103rd. week vol. 1

Sleeping only, to be in distress, a cat my neighbor. Or, sleeping only, to be in distress, becoming a cat in the next door.
On a tissue paper, follow a historical fact of Marquis de Sade had done, to count up to by tally marks. Or, on a tissue paper, follow a historical fact of Marquis de Sade had done, to do a hand job.
A rouge line on your lips, a bar in Crazy Horse, to put on your crotch again.
About the Adam's apple, a ridge on you, drowning different from mine.
It’s cold under cherry blossoms, your sleeves I miss, and hot sake.

posted =oyo= : 06:40 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2014年04月02日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 102nd. week vol. 3

Be wet by, on the pillow her saliva, spuit sucks.
To trail blood on the tracks, and climb up a hill, a Crucifixion there is.
To cut a dash, you look so desperate, it’s not suit for.
On the road I should go, in double exposure, or right or left.
On seeing you again, to offer me in your sacrifice and become as the rest.

posted =oyo= : 09:15 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 102nd. week vol. 2

Only sincere lies, to make notes of, and write on the blackboard.
Until cherry blossoms had fallen, no lines under there, of the hanged bodies.
To bend yourself, and shave your unwanted, you and your shadow I see.
By cheap liquor, to pretend to be drunken, because of living in a cheaply built house.
A girl not to sell at this bar, to weep with a pepper, April Fool on her shoulder.

posted =oyo= : 09:13 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 102nd. week vol. 1

With no umbrella, a woman for others (not for me), you I’ll meet.
Lost your tongue, to eat mushrooms, your chin falls down.
At a parting scene, to weep, all one have to do is.
A reason for concern I have though, cannot relieve or scatter, dawn comes and rains it.
To count on my fingers, before my holidays come, it’s my hand-job.

posted =oyo= : 09:11 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2014年03月26日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 101st. week vol. 2

A one only pretends not to know, of the Mercy Goddess who has eleven faces.
Well done it is, child on my shoulder, who has no mouth.
To melt and to make itself poison, a snake in his bosom, to have a harmful result for a snake.
The universe from a shell, spitting sand out day by day, of her dream.
With an arrow wheel, not to go anywhere, to stay by windsock. Or, with an arrow wheel, not to go anywhere, to blow and to float down on the water.

posted =oyo= : 05:22 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 101st. week vol. 1

In the films, all of eight women, called as Anna. Or, in the films, all of eight women, Mina and Anna.
At dawn, a laugh floating, by Aka Manto.
On the journey in eternity, not to dust returnest, to bury at universe.
To cremate, a woman only left, at a desert island. Or, to cremate, the lonely woman for us, at a desert island.
A cat is immortal, it is sure never die it will, Fujiko Mine called as. (In Japanese, Fujiko Mine is the anagram of Neko Fujimi, it means an immortal cat.)

posted =oyo= : 05:20 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2014年03月19日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 100th. week vol.2

On the edge of the moon, to remember you by, a piece of rust there is.
Heavy oil floating, her little finger of the widow, feeding to sharks.
Cendrillon dares, beside a nuclear reactor, to get warm.
An Ama, Japanese woman diver landed, her collarbones have wet, it tastes water.
Sexual is also desire, either hand‐rolled sushis or mahjong tiles, to be get by same fingers. Or, how good colours they are, either hand‐rolled sushis or mahjong tiles, to be get by same fingers. Otherwise, for a sweetheart useful they are, either hand‐rolled sushis or mahjong tiles, to be get by same fingers.

posted =oyo= : 06:08 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 100th. week vol. 1

To come out of mourning, the time has come to turn the lights off, at the nightless city.
Of a passion flower, clock mainspring has cracked open, and a whip yields.
A hero for the novel, to be left not to be born, incomplete.
If you are the man, to get the virgin records, here’s the sex pistols.
The legs spinning by, morning glory, the well-bucket twisted.

posted =oyo= : 06:06 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2014年03月12日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 99th. week vol. 3

A flowers from an illusion, blooming the time has come, the fool says.
For a substitute of this spring, of the clown, coming off his nose, into the eye. Or, for a substitute of this spring, of the clown, coming off his nose, as a bud.
From this mortal coil, flowing and in high spirits, and her body jumping off. Or, from this mortal coil, flowing and in high spirits, only I can be.
To put down a stone for which being used to place the body in a coffin, at the funeral for my father. only I laugh.
Being plastered to, a toe getting wet with, having a taste of honey. Or, being plastered to, a toe getting wet with, honey on her leg.

posted =oyo= : 09:05 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 99th. week vol. 2

Since that day, the sounds of tap water, to agree I heard. Or, since that day, the sounds of tap water, from the ducts I heard.
Scissors in the hand, of which in the inner part, an eye watches.
Those who you called, he waves in the wind, a bad company does.
Chasin’ her ball, and to go missing, the frog were.
Her tide is down, being left to dirty the tops of her feet.

posted =oyo= : 09:03 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 99th. week vol. 1

Begging for another five minutes, five minutes it takes, five minutes have still passed.
Of a snail, agony can’t understand, Remi “Sans famille” does. Or, of a snail, agony can’t understand, a child who cannot speak does.
Just mother and her child, it’s me, a bruise also I have.
All day long at spring it is, to string out (records of) sonata, scores of people are there.
Over and over again, piled up films of her portraits, to be dyed in black.

posted =oyo= : 09:01 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2014年03月05日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 98th. week vol. 3

Over thirty years old, heard Japanese bush warbler call, I know Japanese apricot was there. Or, across the thirtieth street, heard Japanese bush warbler call, it told me to have a baby.
On a tryst is it, around a solitary pine tree, turn turn and turn seven times.
On July, no water, no god. Or, having a card of July, but no cards of June and October.
To a disjoin, the Japanese god standing at streets, put on a red clothes, Saint Nicolas looked on.
A swallow first appearance in this season, of the clothes line, sweeps under. Or, a wallow first appearance in this season, the edge of his sword Bisen-Nagahune-Osamitsu called as Monogoshizao by Sasaki Kojiro, escapes from brilliantly.

posted =oyo= : 08:07 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 98th. week vol. 2

Of jika-tabis Japanese working boots, to grasp kohaze metal tab closures on them, 27.5cm it’s long.
In a shroud, a spotted shad on sushi filled my mouth, to have arrived at Hanzomon Sta.
To be seen through, skin of a girl, translucent can be seen.
I must dream, hardly to hold if I want to do, no bones in her.
The stomach is full, even a muddy heel, a mouth and a tongue never lick on.

posted =oyo= : 08:05 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 98th. week vol. 1

To hide under leaves, paint the body green, a raccoon dog does. Or, to read “Hagakure : The Book Of Samurai”, paint the body green, a raccoon dog does.
Into round slices the body cut off, bends and grins like, of The Cheshire Cat.
Be mortified, to chew an umeboshi, and blow my nose.
Beretta 92, to treat as for women, and insult.
Big noise comin’, on my deathbed, the sounds I want to hear.

posted =oyo= : 08:03 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2014年02月26日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 97th. week vol. 3

A bass string, howling, in sorrow you’ll become, in greasy sweat.
Going on a trip, left it empty, a feeding bottle is there.
Meeting with three wise monkeys, at an unwillingly park, we have a good chance. Or, Meeting with three wise monkeys, and to join No-No monkey, is there five?
To cut the wind, as a bookmark my knife is, on the last chapter.
On my knees, a woman crying, volume of her behind.

posted =oyo= : 05:52 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 97th. week vol. 2

By my sugar boy, on the Bellows, a rice cracker seasoned with soy sauce eaten.
Playing piano, by heel kicking I hear, the beat from is black.
At first a girl for, and the last of all, die you should.
Wimpy we are, we're so pretty, we're vacant.
A gag on her, taking off as soon as, spurts it.

posted =oyo= : 05:50 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 97th. week vol. 1

“You bastard!”, you can only do to bluster about, because you have no-face.
On the remaining snow, too painful to take a long walk off a short pier, it must be.
At Toronto, Dorompa to Roppa, calling out mahjong.
Those who are frighten, just only one thing about, speak louder than.
Kibi-dango, being scattered and confused, blowin’ by wind.

posted =oyo= : 05:48 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)