2014年08月06日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 120th. week vol. 2

On my ear, a little woman urging me, a coward you are.
Even if to be thrilled with ecstasy, because of being sticky, by a impalement of a bull-headed shrike. Or, even if to be thrilled with ecstasy, because of being sticky, by a impalement of his hundred tongue.
At Hilton Tokyo near by the Shinjuku Central Park, to be lost in my way and shrill, like an cicada week.
At our a lover's quarrel, my favorite right hand, to be much obliged to.
"New Arrival Chilled Chinese Noodles", on the flag, on a flagpole for there is only a little stain.

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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 120th. week vol. 1

The back of her neck I look, of an old lady she has, I know.
The one shoulder of hers exposed, the shape of muscle means, with arm of mothers.
On our parting, on a mole under your eye, the cigarette put out.
To be waver, a flog riddin’, on a ball of rainbow.
In an ark, to do the Radio Calisthenics, 1/8 in size.

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2014年07月30日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 119th. week vol. 3

For the lunch on the dog days of summer, to have a crab dish silently, a woman and a man face to face.
The surf is up, no one sings, “do-don-ga-don” from the line of the song “Nippon O Nippon”.
Sunflowers bendding before the wind, like an surface of the water, under the sunshines in Russia.
The war had (used to) be started on the day when only one person was killed by.
To hear a sound from a wind‐bell, fallin’ on her pillow, one drop from

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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 119th. week vol. 2

Around a toro Japanese garden lantern, three times to run round, to be lost your face.
Colours which the illustrator could not to select to, for a colouring book by Kiichi, a child oughts to paint by.
Kodama trains on Shinkansen line, goes with his sounds, near by a gutter. Or, like Kodama trains on Shinkansen line, which goes with his sounds, bundles of soba dush in a gutter.
In black yellow and crimson, borrowing the authority of or treading on a tail of, for “Les dents du tigre”.
By the god of thunder, also today to be scared, a dog barking the time has come.

posted =oyo= : 04:41 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 119th. week vol. 1

At a desert island, Tomie to tear apart, to have her again. Or, at a desert island, Tomie to tear apart and eat her thigh.
At Shinjuku Ni-chome, I'm waiting for the man, got twenty-six yens in my hand.
Been fallen down, of Dark Lord of the Sith Vader, toothpicks have. Or, Dark Lord of the Sith Vader lying, of whose toothpicks is there.
The man I love to, the physical of which, in dilute nitric acid.
Also your poetry, to open it there, tabloid tells. Or, also your death, to open it there, tabloid tells.

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2014年07月23日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 118th. week vol. 2

Slanting rain comes down, running their noses, the Jizou statues with strawhats stand still.
A man she longs for, to draw eyes with blue, a deceit it is.
Into a mouth floating in the sky, an admission fee for me, to throw.
To be stupid, to stop to catch our breath, at the Bon Festival.
Not to crawl out of, or awake or asleep, being still in a dream.

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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 118th. week vol. 1

A ceiling fan , to break down and circulate, sweat by eating ramen.
To say “I love you”, by the opportunists, one of the silly talks, isn’t it?
Not to be able to see, of innocent girl, to blush her cheeks.
In the room for confining criminals, when a child will be born, by a subordinate wife
Because of to be caught in a shower, at getting under cover of tofus, being completely knocked down. Or, because of to be caught in a shower, at getting under cover of tofus, sticks falls down.

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2014年07月16日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 117th. week vol. 2

To get a full nelson on, an insect in an insect cage, into the fire.
To be worn away, at the knife edge, salt to put on.
Drinking straight from a bottle, at a foot of a bridge, I’m not in the mood for crossing.
Of the same numbers as black keys, taiyakis, Japanese fish-shaped cakes, eat and stay here.
Over the wide sea, to bloom at my right eye, the seeds of a dandelion flies.

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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 117th. week vol. 1

To depart from the planet, to see far in the distance, the earth in the 20th century.
Still alive but, to invite to the land of the dead, Beatrice she does.
Of the microscope, to hold the neck and have a knock‐down drag‐out fight.
To see an antlion, to be bore and have daytime drinking, why you bark. Or, at heat haze, to be bore and have daytime drinking, why you bark.
To be polluted, to lap up my fingertips, milk flavor it is. Or, to be polluted, to lap up your fingertips, my love juice’s flavor is.

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2014年07月09日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 116th. week an addendum

To operate her smartphone, of a woman who has a slight stoop, a hand catch her shoulder and shaking.
A babe in arms, for three days to have hung from the ceiling, Uncle Jam does. Or a babe brought up by blood, for three days to have hung from the ceiling, Uncle Jam does.
To being devour mushrooms, color of her cheek is, blue as mold.
Than sounds of thunders, to bring the noises lauder, because their test period is over.
Raining it has never stopped, with a skull on my knees, to talk to myself.

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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 116th. week vol. 2

The times stars are fallin’, to see the back of a prayer, being beyond embarrassing.
Already, I might be dead, in someone’s dream. Or, already, those who might be dead, someone dreams.
Having dull headache in this morning, to go down on my hands and knees, Etenraku I hear.
At Tanabata the Star Festival on the seventh night of July, because dawn has not come yet, to say adieu. Or, at Tanabata the Star Festival on the seventh night of July, not to get tired of living this era, to love you for killing time.
The end of the days come, to live in your free, a woman cries.

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

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 116th. week vol. 1

Before morning comes, three moons rising, of this planet.
To flush a toilet, a flog in it, moanin' to croak.
A homeless, pick a sea snail, and make it his home. Or, a homeless, pick a sea snail, where he regards as his house at.
Of who staggers, to trace the face of an woman, day after day.Or, of who has an affair, to trace the face of an woman, day after day.
Tits what is, to say it, how glad to me. Or, with tits, to get into my mouth, how glad to me.

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2014年07月02日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 115th. week an addendum

With my hug pillow, going to and fro, staying outside of a mosquito net. Or, with my hug pillow, going to and fro, to be out of the loop at last.
Your sweat runs, Only there to be burned by the sun, in bob cut you are.
On unglazed cups, trying to fill with sake, to make it wet. Or, on her shaved, trying to fill with sake, to make wet there.
A bill collector, to ring three times always, and try again.
An ant runs and runs away, in the black shadow of the convex lens.

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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 115th. week

In this night some cats moaning, blue flame turning on, a pan with a handle for cooking noodles.
An elopement from, just to say nothing and see, the Plow does.
By red pen the figure drawn, to be symmetrical about the line, to get 80 marks.
On a blackboard, by tally marks to fill in the blanks, here’s a first one for number of deaths
To get cracked, on a triangle, three hair grow.

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2014年06月25日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 114th. week vol. 3

On a forked road, carrying you on my back and following, your armpit at last.
Born in Tosa she was, to look up and hold her tight, a rokurokubi because of.
For standing on tiptoe, of a freeze-dried tofu, how feel your feet on.
With tan lines like strings, on around her navel, heavily to pour soy sauce.
To banish a sinner, by stones thrown, at the edge of the bridge.

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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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