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

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.

composed by them.

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.

composed by them.

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.

composed by them.

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.

composed by them.

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.

composed by them.

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.

composed by them.

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

2014年02月19日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 96th. week vol. 3

“A bitch you are!”, blaming a woman by, her carelessness she does.
By his stammering, to response and sway, soap bubbles does.
Hey Hokusai, thighs you need as much as octopuses you have.
Of the receipts, to get the wrinkles out, the end of the fiscal year it comes.
On the velvet, in her mouth to hold and blow a vidro.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 05:55 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 96th. week vol. 2

Her fingernails have grown out, to bite them instead of using a nail clipper, and sharpen by my tongue.
On my half‐drunk, to spill sake from Japanese tea-cup, for playing cee-lo Japanese dice game. Or, because of my half-drunk, spilling sake from my Japanese tea-cup, like dices jump out on playing cee-lo.
How about “Fin de siecle”, don’t worry about, to fly a kite drawn by Yoshitoshi. Or, in your “Fin de siecle”, where the wind’s blowin’, a kite drawn by Yoshitoshi.
All night long, nothing to do with each other, to get bored with their marriage.
On my shoulder, by your heel, dirty to me. Or, on my shoulder, by your heel, a disgrace to me.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 05:53 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 96th. week vol. 1

To make him take to feeding, rubber for a license, on a neck of the wild goose.
Having her a period, a dick makes fun ofs her, and put a red seal on.
Of creeping rockfoil, being buried to see, under an overhead wire.
Crying like a kitty, the two in a chest, pee they need.
An eye on a shoji door, a girl comes untied the obi on her kimono as soon as, an akoya pearl oyster is there.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 05:51 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2014年02月12日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 95th. week vol. 3

To draw wrong, one of the continents, firstly there isn’t.
Kuniyoshi drew a holdup with a thread-sail filefish, under rose of sharon.
With a pair of sewing shears, her eyes closed each other and become a mono-eye, to cut her hairs straight fringe.
Something to eat going to bed and shut-up, my tits how should do to.
To say “Come on baby, light my fire”, how about to sell yourself, the little match girl don’t you.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 05:51 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 95th. week vol. 2

Nitroglycerin I have, to sento Japanese communal bath house on my going snow falling, at the risk of my life. Or, nitroglycerin I have, in battle snow falling, at the risk of my life.
At the shore of Tagonoura, Hedoron, the sludge monster was floating, the times we have.
Be piled up high, and made a spiral as mountain, in Showa period it was. Or, to make a whirlpool up high, and piled up it, in Showa period it was.
“Des violons De l’automne”, to sock away, into a piggy bank.
On thin ice, to order to martial law, snow falls. Or, because of none of the above, to order to martial law, snow falls.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 05:49 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 95th. week vol. 1

“Still more”, you have already say, for your vice. Or, “Still more”, you have already say, despite being you.
With long green onions, a gun makes appearance from the plastic shopping bag.
The robber was also asked by the shopkeeper, how many chopsticks you needed.
To the pair of compasses, get lost, to make someone to tell.
Before the dawn, the same name as my mother’s, a spam mail it’s may be.

composed by them.

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

2014年02月05日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 94th. week vol. 2

The hairs on your ass, couloured by gold, the boughs hang low.
Picking rape blossoms, and leaving there, a red shoe. Or, sin committed rape blossoms, leave her and her red shoe.
Also to the blind, a tattle by a lion, the Japanese lute can be played. Or, also to the blind, a tattle by a lion, like the sound of Japanese lute it makes.
On the first spring storm in this year, Den Standhaftige Tinsoldat, to run for their genocide.
The party was over, lost your master, the iron claw did.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 06:39 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 94th. week vol. 1

Rough to eyes, polite to lips, on my drawing.
A tit taps a tip, by tip to tap tits, for a tip a tit taps.
Be gripped underhand, on a thigh two fingers track there are.
If one hundred my sisters rode on me, it got warm, I hope.
Only those who are invited, shallow they are, in the garden for the party.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 06:38 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2014年01月29日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 93rd. week vol. 2

Please one more to try, a taste of kissing to an informer. Or, please one more try, a taste of an informer’s private.
Not to be the police, to be the thieves, don’t you have courage to do?
Shakin’ your navel, bigger than the sound of your heart.
Calling a cockatoo, at an edge of tofu, the sea of corruption there is.
A snow ball including a stone, a friend handed to me, on February. Or, a snow ball including a stone, a friend handed to me, under the moon.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 08:25 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 93rd. week vol. 1

The words lost and to search, struggle your hands and feet.
Wondering About, on your back, being thirsty because of.
Biting my lips, the reason you don’t know, under my thigh.
A globe you got to roll on a windy day. Or, a globe you got to roll on a day you got cold.
The one of an ammophilinae to remember, looks like you.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 08:23 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2014年01月22日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 92nd. week vol. 2

The fourteen or fifteen, to lick before drawing, on the tip of the brush.
A scab, the other side of its face, to put to turn upwards.
Something is there, the who doesn’t know words how to describe, should tell.
The cut into strips, and being dress with Konjac gels, of planarias.
With her unkempt hairs and rouge on a teacup, pressing flowers.

composed by them.

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

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 92nd. week vol. 1

No-name, on a boarding list, “I” wrote.
The sick in her lung, who is my kindred spirit, I tear the letter from her. Or, to give up haiku, the letter from my kindred spirit, I tear it.
Only a rattling noise from a window, to chase the snow away. Or, only a rattling noise from a window, the people who will go should be out.
For you, the killer awoke before dawn, so you should die before his coming.
No one knows, this mortal coil, tomorrow will let you die.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 08:01 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2014年01月15日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 91st. week vol. 2

A sprig weak, a chair you sit on, I sweat there.
At this valley in between being involved and being left behind, where the time will come flowers bloom.
At the happy ending, falling down in my stomach, the shoes singin’. Or, at the happy ending, to understand, and the shoes singin’.
At the edge of the moon, who being a lap behind, an angel only there is .
By my breathing, to play instrument, on your spit.

composed by them.

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

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 91st. week vol. 1

Though a maggot crawls, waiting for a flog to exit , trees in spite of themselves. Or, though a maggot crawls, waiting for a flog to exit , trees are wondering to walk.
A hand hanging an strap, strange colour on, heartless it seems.
With a japanese giant salamander, to sleep, for dreaming a dream of an aborted fetus.
And my smoking, your language into the shredder. Or, Of which you smoke, the language into the shredder.
Thawing not to be able to waiting for, and floating through, mature hairs do.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 05:07 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

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