2013年06月12日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 60th. week vol. 3

An adhesive plaster is come off and a scar stares at me from there.
To the Mediterranean Sea, to stuff our mouths with pastas under the sea.
No different then as now, only to be bewildered, her secret box is there.
On the ocean current, to entrust my wife who has gone, I'm in absent-minded.
Though some birds are tweeting, be narrow-minded it is, koeda chocolates you eat.

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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 60th. week vol. 2

On a lover's quarrel, to forgive and forget, because a baby there is. Or, on a lover's quarrel, to flow by water, a baby has gone.
Baked clams, the sounds of wings how putting a damper on, by a horse-fly colored rainbow.
Stream to the garden, on a dipper not to be weaken, a snail is there.
A Noppera-bo, a ghost has flat face without eyes and mouth, how to eat I wonder, in a bowl of mujina-soba, buckwheat noodles with tempura batter and deep-fried tofu.
A girl waiting someone for, in a paper lantern goes out, sounds of wooden clogs come here.

posted =oyo= : 04:38 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 60th. week vol. 1

On singing a cappella, checking chord by fingers, C# is it okay.
To eat and sleep, to sleep and eat, with a stray cat.
On her tits, "Les rosiers dans la vallee", Like Nico Robin does.
Where he came from, I don't know, a child I take a walk with.
A shop closed, running out on it's face, having left in the rain because of.

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2013年06月05日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 59th. week Reptilia

On a rainy night, it crawls along the eaves and falls down toward me.
With an eye bandage, the one of those which coiling on themselves, crawling out from.
Under a mosquito net, two pillows are there, and some scales of a snake I find.
By the tongue torn two-way, caressed in the dark. Or, by the tongue torn two-way, giving me cunnilingus on the dark place.
Finally on looking back, I'm left alone, where a reptilia has gone I wonder. Or, on looking back, I stand alone, me a reptilia.

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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 59th. week vol. 2

An elderly unmarried woman, a middle‐aged virgin, and a tomboy.
Be bloodstained, perfume from beddings, and smells yours on.
Dreamt in a midsummer night, how it happened this is, a changeling belongs to of which.
Where he'll go, to carry a puppet on his back, putting an end to the incident.
The Fly he is, his family background is trustworthy exactly for us. Or, the Fly he is, growing from a maggot, it's trustworthy exactly for us.

posted =oyo= : 04:31 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 59th. week vol. 1

A wind chime, and two hips cleaning with clothes on the floors, the sounds I hear.
For mitsumame, a mixture of gelatin cubes, boiled beans, and fruit topped with molasses, throwing the spoon, having enjoyed this dish it means. Or, for mitsumame, a mixture of gelatin cubes, boiled beans, and fruit topped with molasses, give something up as hopeless, and the stomach is full.
Though they sing together, he does not dare join to, Gama Sen-nin, it means a xian of toad.
To try to do again, by her tongue in the mouth, to tie up a stem of cherries. Or, to try to swindle, to win him over by power of eloquence, like to tie up a stem of cherries in her mouth.
The hand made from lead, should I affirm or not, under radioactivity.

posted =oyo= : 04:29 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2013年05月29日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 58th. week A Tumor With A Human Face

To write a letter, the another face on me, a rival in my love.
On my kissing her lips, between her sex organs and her anus, my lower lips (of the another face) crossing on.
Breaking the face, a moth will emerges, and where it will go I wonder.
To tell the truth, on my swindles, he ought to.
To whom Narciss had fall in love, the true self it is.

posted =oyo= : 16:35 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 58th. week vol. 3

Some tablets after each meal, spores may be likely to pop out, is brilliant coloring.
The snow‐white appears, to be turned inside out and bloom on the back (it used be) be cracked. Or, the snow‐white appears, to be turned inside out and cut up the back (it used be) be cracked.
To cut tree blanches down, sleeping siesta at spring, Nobiagari, a Japanese ghost which becomes the taller, the upper you look it.
From a child of ubume, singing "Ko wo toro, Ko toro", for the changeling. ["Ko wo toro, Ko toro" is the song for singing when children play tag. It means "catch a child, steal a child".]
A woman after taking a bath, I don't know why, she gives me her cold shoulder.

posted =oyo= : 04:35 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 58th. week vol. 2

To have Asked into her ear, eternity she replied.
The running children, to devour greedily, and overtake several people in a short time. Or, the running children , to eat cutlets without burdocks salad.
To take off a vise from his body, and wait for his "L'Eve future", Adam does.
A quartet plays, to ight fireworks with no sounds, on a cinema screen.
By which cutting off the sunshine, the shaking tits on the body, so I eat a banana.

posted =oyo= : 04:33 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 58th. week vol. 1

At a 20 percent discount off the list price, to get lunches for three, and eat up.
On a red light shining, let run it out, as a substitute for me.
No gender gap there is, on raising the eyes, no differences on their expressions.
A Kakiagedon, a tendon and a katsudon, with a telesdon.
Also my own dog, have been chased by the Roomba, an autonomous robotic vacuum cleaners, to ping a shine.

posted =oyo= : 04:32 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2013年05月22日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 57th. week Seance

Hands of my neighbors, a flame flickers on the round table, to join each other.
The dark comes, no winds there are, a flame goes out.
The time has come, in this night, she is possessed by it.
What we can hear, lower than the bottom of the earth, in a low voice speaks.
When the spirit has gone, leaves a massage as it's riddle, says R-O-S-A-B-E-L-L.

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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 57th. week vol. 3

Even if an umbrella, it is never necessary as if a statue of Buddha for pagans, it rains misty. Or, even if an umbrella, it is never necessary as if a statue of Buddha for pagans, would you like coming with me in the rain.
At a rainy day on May, a person who slew himself, a train arrives late this evening.
The back of a pregnant woman, binds up and hangs out, by double helix. Or, to lay a pregnant woman on, binds up and hangs out, by double helix.
A umbilical cord starts to spin slowly, on a carousel, ding-dong ding-dong here is sounds.
Never comes, a crying woman and Sunday Morning.

posted =oyo= : 04:15 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 57th. week vol. 2

Never to lower the curtain, out side of the performing, a drama you can find.
Bang! to beat a springboard, her hands under her legs, a girl jumps over.
As a political opponent, the judgment errs, fools all of them are.
To hand a camera each other, struggling to get an enough space to shoot, the modern Aoi no Ues there are.
For playing a theremin, the actions of the fingers, to become an expert.

posted =oyo= : 04:13 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 57th. week vol. 1

Two pillows are there, the subtleties between man and woman, like a kibi-dango, a kind of Japanes sweet made by millet.
On Saturday, in my weariness and inertia, for shaving.
A person who lead a life of dissipation, when stamping his feet in frustration, a land mine under his feet they might be.
On which my dominant hand depends, on the a triangular bandage, splashed some drops of curry from the dish.
The body of the termite's queen wriggles and squirms, and her flesh shines whity.

posted =oyo= : 04:10 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2013年05月15日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 56th. week A Parade In The Night By One Hundred Demons

On 2:00 AM, forbidden gates, has just been opened for.
Being scattered cherry blossoms, the dead bodies aren't them, Hyakki Yagyo, the night parade of 100 demons goes.
A party in the dark, noisy from the soundlessness, a colorful procession what is.
Making a rattling, not to break coffins open, three heads in might be.
A party in full swing though, on sunshines coming to tell here comes the morning, giving a clever excuse.

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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 56th. week Dogra Magra

If you really has the meaning of the name, Doktor Caligari nor Doktor Masaki, Der Sandmann you mast be.
Is she an ubume, a Japanese ghost of a woman who had died in childbirth, a decomposed body Ono no Komachi it was, her belly having grown.
To lose his mind, dreaming on dreaming on dreaming, to lose his mind. Or, to lose his mind, Yumeno has dreamt on his dreaming, and lose his mind again.
An embryo dances, but it has not been born, it's still in his mother's.
For Ichiro Kure, a dream is the key that opens all doors for the sane.

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Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 56th. week vol. 2

Rains on May, writhing in agony, and it makes me sick.
A couple of slugs there, no men, no women.
Her eyes over a surgical mask, am I pretty, wants to ask me.
On Mother's Day, calling the mother, it's a shameless.
To look sleepy, after looking up at the sky, have been to bed.

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

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 56th. week vol. 1

For show business in the summer holidays, Iwa's respects paying, going to Tamiya Shrine at Yotsuya.
The dead dying on the street, under the root of Zoshigaya, burying politely. Or, the dead dying on the street, echoing the sounds at Zoshigaya, burying politely. Otherwise, the dead dying on the street, to sleep at Zoshigaya, burying politely.
A ham actor says, here is the living saint, my mother. Or, Japanese radish is a kind of the living saints, my mother says.
In the wake of Takaoka Prince, to want to sail, on the Dirac Sea. Or, to left the child, to have gone with love, on the Dirac Sea.
A dildo insists on a Win-Win relationship, we should buld.

posted =oyo= : 05:06 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

2013年05月08日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 55th. week La Danza Macabra

At her debutante, dancing a virgin has gone the way of all flesh.
Get old, go to decay, go bad rotten and became a skull and bones, that is all.
When the banquet was at its height, we can hear the sounds as "Basso continuo", of made by skulls and bones.
The masque of the red death, with whom dancing, is still waiting for his partner.
Only him, laughed at, the Cardinalis has.

posted =oyo= : 15:47 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 55th. week vol. 3

All that she has, to drink to the last drop, it is said, a secchin from the novel "Yapou, betail humain".
Raising the voice loud and raucously, not being able to suppress the anger because of, an earless seal does.
The pot calling the kettle black ; eye mucus and nasal mucus, dried sardines and smelts, all of them laugh at.
On a holiday, saying to tire of or to lose interest in, petting your pussy in the morning.
Need not a sake cup, on your mouth and on your tongue, it smells perfume from it. Or, need not a sake cup, on your mouth and on the lower of you, it smells perfume from it.

posted =oyo= : 05:32 | comment (0) | trackBack (0)