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

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 44th. week vol. 1

By her wet fingers to, forming a line with two moles, at the next position is there.
The woman gets hold of the hand of, the back of a blind man I can only see. Or, the woman carries a blind man, who gets hold of her hand. Or, the woman carried a blind man, who gets hold of his hand (if you want to).
To make cups of tea, so, an ugly face in blue should be shut down softly.
With our backs to the cascade, falling a frog into, and taking no notice of that. Or, get the back of Mr. Taki, and holding down with Russian Leg Sweep, it's no matter for me.
Being named by, you can carry a love letter, stellaria (In Japanese, stellaria is called "Hakobesou". "Hakobesou" sounds "Be able to carry" in Japanese).

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 05:43 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)


Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 43rd. week vol. 2

On a scar from the operation my lips put, and grasp the guts, the eye ball in front of me watches.
Of the Pope, puffing out a candle, the sky is red.
In the forest, a little pig doesn't understand, under pleats on the skirt are there.
To hear the rustle of her dress, drains down a toilet seat, the drop salivated from me.
When I asked him what his name was, he laughed mockingly and said, in Kitano Blue.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 06:14 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 43rd. week vol. 1

A garbage truck goes under cover of night and has left blood on the tracks. Or, a garbage truck, because of being mistaken for illness, has left blood on the tracks.
In the all nights long, her lonely sleeping only alone understanding or not, the cats pants under loads.
Her dog doesn't know, his tongue is thickly covered crimson with her pedicure.
In spite of her menopause, no time to get old, an woman is there.
Remembering that summer, drawing his pharos bigger than.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 06:12 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)


Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 42nd. week an appendix

On the in-bound line, the person who know spring has come, is with a running nose.
Singing the song "My Graduation" calmly, so I give a spanking on the face.
To all of Yakuzas, groups of gangsters, after telling the excuse, the Lord of destruction appears.
Be colored by Prussian blue, how wonderful from the rotten bodies it smells, "Memento mori (Remember your mortality)". it is said. Or, in this life, how wonderful from the rotten bodies it smells, "Memento mori (Remember your mortality)".
On biting your ear, an ill for my lips, the black long hairs do.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 13:45 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 42nd. week vol. 3

"It's my wife" is boiled by my fingers, "and it's my life" on the spoon.
On my waking, by the shredder, shredding my f***er.
A picture of "The Virgin and the Child", on assassinating, turned over.
Removing the parsley, on the ketchup, when we eat omurice, a kind of Japanese dishes, rice covered by omelette.
The man who had not be able to be E. T. A. Hoffmann, wrote "Das Unheimliche" about the novel "Der Sandmann".

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 07:32 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 42nd. week vol. 2

Because of being warm by the kotatsu, a kind of the heater in Japan, my wish isn't realized, for sleeping with my head in your lap.
Be mistaken for runs in her stockings, bloody on her thigh.
A child of the nakai, the parlormaid in the Japanese style hotel, in the linen room, is dreaming a dream with a straw ricebag.
All night long, don't miss it by one minute by one second, on the Magick Square.
Biting her lips in, lost her virgin, golden chains were left.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 07:30 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 42nd. week vol. 1

The magician being thickly dressed, are walking through, rabbits sticks and a shower of blossoms in his pockets.
You'll melt and become butter, running ruinning around and around, on playing "duck, duck, goose".
Within solted kelp and covered with ground toasted sesame seeds, taking rice balls, let's climb Mt. Chausu-dake.
By moss on her arms green, by blood on her lips vermilion, it's a love affair from the mushroom people. Or, by moss on her arms green, by blood on her lips vermilion, and turns into the mushroom people violet.
Please, put blood on your finger, and he is smiling, because of the contract enclosed.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 07:28 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)


Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 41st. week vol. 2

Three in the sky, revolving silver circles like the Toroids in Xevious. Or, the sky is filled of revolving silver circles like the Toroiids in Xevious.
Because its name sounds thick, I cannot help asking which color it is, winter daphne.
How move the tongue of an anteater, remembering what happened in our bedroom.
A voyage to London, binding up a dead man to the steered wheel and saying "Steady course!"
With a Chinese soup spoon, ash is floating in a bottom of the china bowl, dawn has not broken. Or, lotus is falling, ash is floating there and dawn has not broken.

composed by them.

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

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 41st. week vol. 1

Taste her pussy by my fingers, and imagine a center hollow of anpan, a Japanese sweet roll.
Don't ask and just listen, who? yes, it's their name, the who.
At Zuboraya, the trattoria for pufferfish dishes, getting a lantern made from pufferfish and coming home on the road.
For refreshments with tea, at the sunny place, treating the split ends of my hair.
Don't be afraid, boy, Kobayashi, just a luminous paint or something.

composed by them.

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


Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 40th. week vol. 3

On a piece of konjac gel, putting on karashi (a kind of mustard used for Japanese dishes) thickly, it's yellow.
A one of the rabble, dare to do bad move, with adrenaline rush.
Under the sunshine in the winter, the shack we live in, inside out.
By his performing seppuku, getting involved in him, a live sharksucker is.
With a map of the labyrinth, going into your dreams.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 08:11 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 40th. week vol. 2

Like "The Wind Has Risen" written by Hori Tatsuo, to dare to have a cough, is it ahead sick?
By cold water in winter, a raccoon, nor an Azukiarai (the japanese spirit, which makes a mysterious noise that sounds like azuki beans being washed or ground near a river or other body of water).
It's my incubation period, a shortage of women, 35 ages.
It snows, a debt collector will wake on dawn.
Gathering their ashes, Jurassic nor Cretaceous nor Triassic, which period it is.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 08:09 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 40th. week vol. 1

On her lips, putting his fingers, is a trumpet player.
Though giving your word, pretending not to know, only a hanger is here.
Wandering aimlessly, cutting nails, the 21st fingers'.
By slicking talk, on the social net, being thrown battles of molotov cocktail.
Through the rear sight, I can see, falling down Tatsuya Jinnou, from the comic "Star Of David" created by Masaaki Sato.

composed by them.

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


Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 39th. week vol. 2

From midnight spending the night with, muddily falling and falling into a doze and a doze, till the middle of the day.
Here's Satan standing by, if looking back to, just my shadow it is.
And you and I, ruling and making something our own (or sliding and tumbling) in the whole universe of a billion worlds (that Buddha enlightened).
At ashes builded up, the sound of the growing hot water and siren, I hear. Or, At ashes builded up, after the sound of the growing hot water, and silence comes here.
At the inpatients' ward, a cigar butt for a feeding cup mistaken.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 10:23 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 39th. week vol. 1

Before the dawn, getting two stupa and put sth up for auction.
Rent a hot-water bottle from a snow child, a winter spirit, and be frozen to death.
By the game of 'paper, stone and scissors', it's a fool to select 'paper' firstly.
Diving into and crawling, the endoscope is, like the comic "Hikaru Kaze : Shinin' The Wind" created by Tatsuhiko Yamagami.
If looking down your drain, can understand how useless you are.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 10:20 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)


Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 38th. week

One‐sided, laughing Tange Sazen's paper umbrella with a bull's-eye design , who is a fictional character of a swordsman created by Fubo Hayashi.
A dream's over, a coffin is sinking like a treasure ship.
Staring at first sight, on a broadsword, snow is coming down in large flakes. Or, Staring at first sight, to brandish a broadsword, it's snowing down in large flakes.
Singing the song "Dekansyo Bushi", Bisamratta at your bedside.
A wing of the cicada, counting the numbers of lost songs, children there are.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 10:39 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)


Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 37th. week

Snowing here comes, shaking tits, shaking hips and also let them die. Or, it's snowing, with fathers, and the people who shaking their hips will die, too.
Kicking by the heel, playing a ghost leg with a geisha girl at the spa town.
From someone putting on a red bib, getting a rice cake, at the Jizo-do, the shrine for Ksitigarbha.
Muddy water, filled with, the collarbones of the Jakotsu Baba, the Japanese monster of a snake charmer, appearing as an old woman.
Snapping a toothbrush to use as the bridge for the Sanzu River. Or, snapping a toothbrush to use as chopsticks at the Sanzu River.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 07:42 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)


Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 36th. week

On the hand of an orphan, put for a substitute, the head of a toad.
In her arm, the ears of bulrush are shaking, only seeing the back of the old woman.
The man with a gentle nature, who has no strength and no power for, is a bum.
No kiseru, a Japanese smoking pipe there is, which can make a sharp sound if it is stricken at a ashtray, so I can hardly get out of from my kotatsu, a Japanese foot warmer like an bug which has lived in it.
Just only five minutes, in the lump ten fried chickens, to fill our mouth.

composed by them.

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


Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 35th. week vol. 2

A long nail, 150 mm length, it is said being used for self‐defense, in name only.
Delete, delete and delete, R U happi?
Fishing in troubled waters is it, trying to open a shell and eat a pearl in it.
Just three days it is left, to ask what is the raison d'etre for the flag, on the drifting ship.
Your shadow is forestalling and folding his arms to waiting for you.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 07:27 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 35th. week vol. 1

Saying "I love you", having tried to lick your crutch, as much as possible.
Even if still holding your tongue, you have your swollen right cheek.
Turning and turning this glove, how many hundred million years it has past.
Even if the lantern of the hermit, it can light up no future.
Also the terrestrial television waves are frozen by this cold air mass because we are attacked by Peguila, the monster from the TV program "Ultra Q", of which the episode 14 it made Tokyo in "Ice Age".

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 07:25 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)


Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 34th. week vol. 3

By innocence of a bagworm, a joro spider is moved. (A joro spider has two means. One is a real existence spider, of which scientific name is Nephila clavata. Another is a ghost or goblin of Japanese folklore.)
Having drunken tequila and fallen unconscious, so a bottom of a bottle you can see.
In the dead of my child, after drinking over (his blood), as Hariti does.
At twilight (someone asks who is he), on the Buddha's palm of the hand, a landowner he must be.
Only a castrate there is, a flute for nihility by whom is taken along with.

composed by them.

posted =oyo= : 09:06 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

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