2015年11月25日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 188th. week

With the help of my umbrella as a stick, evening has come, Sphinx says.
To body temperature, in stead of warming sake, elderly woman slipping off.
This December has come, too late it's now, to watch out for fire they call.
To become a swan, don't think so, for a child of the duck.
To be exposed to the rain, in the season camellia sasanqua blooms, it's a ruined like me.

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2015年11月18日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 187th. week

In the center of, our child stay there, to become the cause of a bug it may be.
At his sickbed, under the pillow, charging it is.
A few thousand yen, in a box after dinner, a milestone stands.
Be bashful the look, to peel off her face, salt it by squeezing.
Beside a bumping post, ribs there, and offering of rose flowers.

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2015年11月11日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 186th. week

Still there she is, in my mirror, a girl I dislike.
A hand gripping something, what he stares, and being frightened.
What you say, the happiness you want, a lie they says.
Of his children's, under the heaviness, a frog gives away. Or, of his children's, under the heaviness, to give away like an frog.
And sweat and suffer, for escape from reality, are same as to be born. Or, and sweat and phrase, for escape from reality, are same as to be born.

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2015年11月04日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 185th. week

A mantis has standen ready for, On the watering can.
Signals on the traffic, although going in and out, to wait in vain.
The way I came and, to turn back, to come off rails go. Or, the way I came and, to turn back, to go off on a tangent.
Three of asterisks, to line up, it will go.
Missing to hit on, to have no sense of crisis, a horse neighs.

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2015年10月28日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 184th. week

By your black haired, to make a ridge, has been too bright.
To comb your hairs, to time if I have, to graze your finger I do.
Blows cold wintry wind, a woman in mortal fate, suffering her joy.
Hanging down, and beating the drums, to flatter and fawn on. Or, at informal interview by them, beating the drums, to flatter and fawn on.
For road mirage, to chase and lost his way, so crying and weeping.

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2015年10月21日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 183rd. week

To get bored with each other, from the radio, the sounds of Bacharach we can.
Rain lets up after, on a windscreen, to be stained with in red.
By my right hand, to grip the uncomfortable, and hesitate to say.
At second anniversary of her death, to be at sixes and sevens, busy for dish-washing.
After Sunday, being busy, Monday comes. Or, on Sunday, a busy mother has been busy, on Monday.

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2015年10月14日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 182nd. week

An onion to peel, to do as, your hair I treat.
A bird in a cage, to peer thorough, into the sky he can fly.
Unlock be difficult to do, beyond her black teeth, tongue in red there is.
A woman chews, to act out of spite, a tuft of her own hair.
Hiss the sound from, to be done at no time, the kettle of hot water boiled.

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2015年10月07日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days,the 181st. week

On the mainland, never ending grudge, to wander about. Or, on the mainland, boundless expanse of, his grudge wandering about.
The doll does, to open her mouth, "Mummy, I do" only speaking.
Numbers of falling my tests, to count now, two years for me.
The crane fly if he did, to spread out his legs, to reach the book I could.
For the body of his, waiting with her grudge, at the rest room.

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2015年09月30日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 180th. week

With the wife as the back door man, showing the back view, a mechanical fan is.
At Suminoe, to be ride isn't it, a triple circle. Or, on the ink wash painting, to be ride isn't it, a triple circle by red.
To untie obi, about your sphincter to loosen, the time has come.
To raise his head like a serpent, with this sousaphone, I fight.
Of A Fukusuke-doll, In the shine on the forehead, feces of flies are there.

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2015年09月23日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 179th. week

Boredom it is, to be a picture of, with a tissue.
Of the deeds, tear up five pieces, to confess his love affairs.
Although you say, to turn around the inside of, for going outside. Or, a demonstration for you say, to turn around the Parliament, becoming the outsider.
On plates of a drain, after the daruma rolling, blood on the tracks left by.
Licca-chan is, to spilt milk, dressing in white.

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2015年09月16日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 178th. week

The darkness at the bathtub, as coiling on itself, a serpent waiting for.
Also a young witch, to mount a rake, for tidying up a Japanese rock garden.
The tower in the control of him, at the nose of the future, to light up a cigarette.
To get old and fall in love, hands are trembling, not to write a letter.
Under mackerel sky, chawan's shakin', an earthquake with an intensity of lower 3 on the Japanese scale of 7 it must be.

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2015年09月09日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 177th. week

At a dosshouse, from there on her belly button, Toden Arakawa Line it goes.
Though seeing and falling love, hidden by her own hairs, her profile is.
Have finished to eat of all, for giving my name if you wanted, throwing my spoon.
Clack clack sounds from, at the bottom of a well, bones make. Or, clack clack sounds from, at the bottom of a well, bones note.
On an intermission, a grain of boiled rice to put on your butt, as your bento.

posted =oyo= : 08:16 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年09月02日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 176th. week

A dancer making up as a torioi, trying to follow with her eyes, just only to see her chin.
By his split, on the dark side, to bloom it's nice. Or, by his split, on the saddle, to tear it's also nice.
To keep her sitting, of the dancer, to try to break three legs.
A few days before month-end, like the tsuyuharai of sumo, a sprinkler has gone.
Also a back door man, to run for his life, by the pendulum.

posted =oyo= : 11:36 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年08月26日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 175th. week

For giving the challenge, to come and get off your head, she says.
Well done you have, though making me lie on a bed of thorns.
To break a rice craker in two, to tell my fortune, a pigeon has come.
Those children have not stayed there, at the time of the school's out, they issue a warning.
The last train has gone, a bench is there, for a poem to be read aloud in spite of.

posted =oyo= : 11:26 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年08月19日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 174th. week

The thread snapped, to fall into the bottomless, awaken in my bed.
Being treated with I.V. fluids in, a woman's toes of, bad smell for tasting.
A dish before me, opening to show, a dick is there.
Someone to call for her, even though having an objection to, saying to see you tomorrow.
A calm on the shore, to suck my thumb, trying to know where wind comes from.

posted =oyo= : 08:39 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年08月12日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 173rd. week

At the midnight after, to write down "ru" instead of "nu", with an absent-minded air.
More than the god, those who defines, frightening they are.
To be drifted, a woman cuddle up to, cannot have one my way.
Should take it by force, a white elephant, on the hand.
Yawns may be, someones cannot stop having coughs, with their mouths wide open under the sky.

posted =oyo= : 09:18 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年08月05日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 172nd. week

In the field the sun comes, to write down "eternal", a dying child does.
To put down my cane, sunset comes for today, the three legs is there.
A hassaku orange after peeling, to let it alone, to see the backs of maikos. Or, at the first day of August orange after peeling, to let it alone, to see the backs of maikos.
Of his spouse, to help laughing, no rings on her fingers. Or, of his spouse, to help laughing, no fingers on her hand.
A dew on the weed, to wipe sweat away, empty kettle is. Or, a dew on the weed, after wiping sweat away, to reach for a kettle.

posted =oyo= : 06:03 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年07月29日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 171st. week

Instead of drawing up a dead, to have a nail torn off, and saying yes. Or, instead of drawing up a dead, to have a nail torn off, and saying hold you in my arms.
Not to bite, to do hideaway, at this sunset wanna poo.
Tipsy I'm a little, have too much time on my, just ten minutes I have.
Hobbling on the street, walking in the shade, because of scratches on the shin. Or, hobbling on the street, walking in the shade, because with a guilty conscience I am.
A hooker, to look at the back of who playing a harp, having a feeling nothing to do.

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

2015年07月22日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 170th. week

For deep nail cutting, a finger of yours you do, to want to lick.
The earth torn, a quarrel between siblings has over, a night comes. Or, the blood avoids, a quarrel between siblings has over, hasn't it?
Henomoheji a face composed by language, to turn over even if, it has same means.
To be stood up by, to wonder how to make thong broken, playing a ballon yo-yo.
An unglazed pot,to pick up, a beggar makes it a lid. Or, a girl shaved, to pick up, a beggar inserts him.

posted =oyo= : 10:05 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2015年07月15日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 169th. week

Faked Roland Barthes in "L'Empire des signes", as a corpse of the forest, a vacant plot is there.
The Hall of Visions at Horyuji, to hear sounds hitting the door of, a shuin a seal stump from the shirin handed. Or, the palace for dreaming, to hear sounds hitting, hand job she does.
Than a swam of mosquitoes, that fellow to make complaints, you are mean.
Be moored, boats hitting a pier, the sounds storm will come.
To shade with his hand to see the sky, fickle as women, awkward he says it's.

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