conceived and constructed by たいとしはる tai toshiharu
The Lion Sleeps Tonight

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 165th. week vol. 1

By high pressure, my head clutched, and shaken.
A bully, a child has cried, changed own sex.
Of her patrons, as soon as to pursue she does, a tricycle to bump into.
Futatsume the second position on rakugo, the next position of is Shinnuchi the main performer, is the third and final position and has three eyes.
To be given false hope, in zang-fu the internal organs and the bowels, by the result to dissect it.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 07:29 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年06月10日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 164th. week

A frog croaks, to see well in the dark, tears go by.
To have a bad stomach, Mitsuwo waiting, grains at rest room.
To have cum, on a tap having long neck, a line of sweat is there.
At row houses in a back alley, to tie her legs, just a woman she is.
A streamer stands, to hold my head in my arms, a day for the masked.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 10:00 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年06月03日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 163rd. week

To press your luck, a cap laughin', stupid how you are. Or, to put on your head, a cap laughin', stupid how you are.
A warning it's, to keep it to be twisted, on the chair you sitting.
Only some threads of her hair, to dye other colour, to be left not to cut.
A dead child, of charcoal grey, the oblong box in front of.
A wife of mandarin ducks, the edges of a shears she hands, to be turned up. Or, a wife of lovebirds, the edges of shears she hands, to be turned up.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 09:50 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年05月27日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 162nd. week

To cut her own split hairs, her fingers trembled, to feel a foreboding of something.
Also menstrual bleeding, to tel her agreement, if pulling out a stopper. Or, also menstrual bleeding, to flow into an duct, if pulling out a stopper.
The man waiting for, to have nothing more to be heard, looking forward his neck.
Theremin in front of, to do gymnastics, a woman is there.
In the beginning of the rainy season, howling MRI, no problem it's over.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 09:53 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年05月20日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 161st. week

At the edge of a pond, it looks a long face somedays, so let it down. Or, at the edge of a pond, never it come to float there are somedays, so let it sink.
A piper announces, the peep show there is, to show the flag.
To place salt to drink with, on her clavicle, where hot water gathers.
Wearing yukatas, on the road a sleeping person, to stride over.
Under blazing sun, behind a banner, a wok there is.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 12:56 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年05月13日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 160th. week vol. 3

Of starch syrup, to have a slow lazy way, on the stomach in the summer.
In the heat of her masturbation, to stick it at, by exclamation mark.
About a rose of a watering can, having no motivation in spite of, to buy a board.
A child of his great‐great‐grandchild, the way for the king, to do blocking.
With his ten fingers, to have a heated discussion, with sitting on an invisible chair.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 09:27 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 160th. week vol. 2

An old couple, furrows on their faces each other, to sing a duet in piles.
Before in this summer, about your shoulder blades, where should be there.
On a china bowl with rice, a trako and two cut eggs, a smile it looks.
Sundown, sterile women get together, dancing for a Bon Festival.
To be stained with the blood, to give a message exaggeratedly, a clown performs.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 09:25 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 160th. week vol. 1

A liar, to blindfold his own right eye, for singing a song.
Rhododendron flowers, trying to put on her ear, to try to cry.
P.S., at a lavatory, a lampoon left there.
A train leaves, too late now, a brass band left. Or, train leaves, at after hours session, a brass band left.
To shake a bouquet, in Isle. Kikaigashima, at the heliport.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 09:23 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年05月06日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 159th. week

Hazy in spring, enigmatic it's, a contour line over there.
To feel a little tipsy, a badger blows to play, sounds from alto saxophone.
A window cleaner, to cry for, at the chapel to repent his love affairs. Or, a window cleaner to cry for, colours of the chapel to repent.
For his master never comes, to creak and wait, a wheelchair does.
To be scolded, only a face of an old broad, to be heavy handed. Or, to be scolded, only a face of an old broad, to exist.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 10:36 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年04月29日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 158th. week vol. 2

Your swaddling, to have dyed blood, at the railway station for going.
On the watch tower, the rising sun, to skewer.
At daybreak, a woman who envies, to get dead drunk with.
Babel it's in, to fall dawn, to do a fib unnecessary.
A monk in black, a widow to give comfort to, on pillows filled with buckwheat husks.

composed by them.

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

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 158th. week vol. 1

To have haven a cough, in Europe filled with sorrow, to blow my nose just only do.
To draw meridians on the earth, to try to do over again, His Grace does.
A melody performed by her flute, to be possessed by a ghost.
Of Shibusawas, to stack up skulls, to set there.
Over yonder despair, a mirror in, with your smile can see.

composed by them.

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

2015年04月22日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 157th. week vol. 2

His Adam's apple, to be quivered and have slept, a trumpeter does.
For chikaramizu to give water before his bout at sumo, bottom of a ladle, to be broken.
To get the season wrong, at The Cherry Orchard, Ivan the Fool comes there.
About an dorayaki, to consult everything, rain comes even if.
Whistling a whelk egg case, in a gambling room, to appear in my dream.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 09:46 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 157th. week vol. 1

At our bedside, to write down tally marks for counting, six more we have.
For sunrise viewed at the top of the mountain, as making it up to her, in name only.
A ruled line to have been forgotten to draw, and got a love for this reason, sometimes happen.
For a wrongdoer, not to throw a stone to ward off, boys who have no names.
Itsutsuginu kimono for court-ladies, over Kanmon Straits, across to go.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 09:43 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年04月15日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 156th. week

Furoshiki, to fold very rough, on making a farewell call.
To Iwa, even a scorched pan, reproachful to me.
To say good-bye, a mole which is a icon to love someone, of bib.
For sakuramochis, a daughter three years old what should do, to love insects.
By marching on march, from Mt. Niitaka, to go down.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 10:18 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年04月08日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 155th. week vol. 2

After to be left alone, to miss you, by the wind from a slit of windows.
What your name, at Yabura Street loose my footing, I wonder.
At the bottom of Shinjuku, your family temple is there, a flower for offering.
At Mamiana (the Soviet Russia embassy was used to be there), his bed room to rent, a big blood board does. Or, in the burrow of a raccoon dog, his bed room to rent, big weasel does.
You comb, after shaving on your underarm, spring has come.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 06:17 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 155th. week vol. 1

At the end of a line, through 100 generations 100 travellers passing, gademus they are.
On your eye, stroke to be coloured purple, and paint your cheek it.
Before my death, my half body to be torn, I miss.
A spoon for my coffee, to beat the beat, for getting tired out.
Just twenty she is, same numbers of her age, her fingers there was.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 06:15 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年04月01日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 154th. week vol. 2

Under martial law, how should do, to ask about cherry blossoms.
In the previous night, to flow as to say yes, fur there was.
What a coward you are, will be tomorrow discharged, to spread around.
Not to have used, two pillows and a waitress in a Japanese-style hotel, how should be.
Three goze there are, can't feel out the situation, cherry tree complains. Or, a goze I see, can't feel out the situation, to say cherry tree.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 12:04 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 154th. week vol. 1

To be listed, on the deck of the aircraft carrier, I slide down.
At the end of the rainy season in Japan, between camel's humps, to be covered in moss.
White Mahjong tiles and squid sashimi, to dip in soy sauce and vinegar.
At the edge of a pierce, of a fly, tattoo is there.
Of my little sister, to climb the upper arm of hers, two fingers of mine do.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 12:02 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年03月25日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 153rd. week

Playing Oicho-Kabu, with the lover of the pimp's wife.
To wait a cruising taxi, a woman holding her baggage, there is.
In the evening of this spring, to rest her head on a skull, a sleeping girl there. Or, to be drunken in the evening, to rest her head on a skull, a sleeping girl there.
To whisper for asking, playing with Hana Ichi Monme, to a person in a traffic sign.
To sound the death knell for, bells ring they are, to pedal an organ.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 10:08 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年03月18日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 152nd. week

On where raising the ground level, to take a pee, my being fated.
By my love, of in disposable shopping bag, same as weight.
My intestines, to turn over, and to dry out of direct sunlight.
And an ornamental hairpin, to lay on the grave, a chastity belt is there.
A pair of chopsticks is there, not to love me, my man's.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 09:35 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

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