The hero here is Takayama Renga(15) who lives alone with his sister Moegi after their parents died. Since she is the only family he had, he become sister complex and tends to be overreact if anything happen to her. He joins an exorcist organization to vanquish demons. Along with Kagayama Suou and Kinoshita Noshime, Renga completes task as exorcist under the name of Sheishirayuri School’s vanguard division. They are the chosen people who are able to manipulate ‘chalice’.

So, what is The Chalice anyway? It’s an holy object looks like a bowl used to seal demons. It made of Holy Mother's blood and would become human's last hope to be free from evil spirit. Moegi is the descended holy mother. So, they need her blood to make the chalice.

Everything starts stranger when Amakusa Chitose is transferred to their school. He can heal his wound. He survive after being attack by a demon forcefully. And he has the black wing with super power so he can defeat demon easily. Who is he? Will he be 'the bishop of salvation for Holy mother'? Or 'the secondary leader of the fall'?

Interesting? For those who likes Get Backers might think this one is cool, because this piece belongs to Ayamino Rando sensei.

Download this manga from manga share

H

after a grievous disturbance of the senses
she thought of fairy lights she still kept on her dying christmas tree
and the waitress tap danced with him
la veuve joyeuse a la javanaise

*this little poem was written on the back of a paper mat by iain bamforth (1st line), me (2nd line), ney (3rd line) and richard oh (4th line) at oh la la djakarta theatre on wednesday, april 2, 2008. after he wrote his line, iain folded the paper so i couldn't see what he had written. he only hinted that i should begin with a subject. the rest of us then repeated the method. iain jotted down the word renga, just to point out that our poem was similar to the japanese form of poetry. as for the title, ney is the one to blame.

Fortunately the historical facts are clear, and it is a simple matter to determine that the term hokku is in fact the correct and proper term, and that "haiku" began to be popularized by Shiki, who had an agendum of his own, near the end of the 19th century.   But think how many have been ignorant of that basic historical fact for decades!

If one reads the book A Haiku Path, which details the founding period of the Haiku Society of America from 1968 to 1988, it is clear where some of the obfuscation originated.  There was a concerted effort in that society to declare the term "hokku" obsolete!   (the Society even actively worked to get its new definitions adopted by "editors of encyclopedias and dictionaries"). 

A similar revisionism has taken place in other originally Japanese verse forms.  What was for centuries called waka (literally "Japanese verse" to distinguish it from Chinese verse) is now, again after the revisionistic influence of Shiki, called "tanka" (literally "short verse").  But if I were to write modern verse in English that preserved the essence of waka, I would want to call it waka, because tanka has come to mean almost any kind of free verse written in approximately five lines, and generally it has virtually nothing in common with the aesthetics of the old waka.  Again, as in the case of the pushing of "haiku" instead of the accurate "hokku" by various haiku societies and individuals, there appear to be modern agenda involved in these linguistic obfuscations.

We find the same thing in the move to replace the centuries old term "renga" with "renku" in the English-speaking world.

Generally those most vocal in supporting such confusing linguistic revisionism are those who are involved in writing or promoting revisionistic forms of these verses -- those who, for example, want to see the modern "free verse" haiku take the place of  the standards and aesthetics of the old hokku,  or see the free verse tanka take the place of the old and more challenging waka, or to see whatever is currently promoted as renku take the place of the standards of the centuries-old renga.

There is something very distasteful in all this.  In practice, by erasing the term "hokku" through declaring it obsolete, one would also simultaneously erase, in modern practice, the principles and standards of the hokku as applied from the 17th to the 20th century, replacing them with the near complete lack of principles and standards and generally quite different aesthetics of modern haiku.   And in fact that is what nearly happened -- hokku nearly disappeared.

The same happens when one replaces the term "waka" with tanka.  Modern tanka is generally nothing like the old waka, and so removing the correct term also commonly removes, in actual practice, the traditional standards and aesthetics.  And of course the same may be said of erasing "renga" in favor of "renku."

It is time to end such historical obfuscation and linguistic manipulation.   Whether intentional or unintentional, an agendum behind pushing revisionistic terms not only confuses historical fact but also destroys the traditions, principles and standards behind these centuries-old verse forms, replacing them with modern ersatz English forms that are simply not the English-language equivalents of the old forms.

What can one do about this problem?  Often we need only point out the easily verifiable historical facts.  Bashô wrote hokku, not haiku; the modern tanka in English is essentially a Westernized free verse form that has virtually nothing in common with the waka; renku today is often not at all like the traditional renga.  People inherently want to be accurate, and when shown the incontrovertible and obvious facts they will generally accept them, given time and the prevalence of common sense.   But it requires a willingness to be careful with language, to avoid careless and  sloppy and inaccurate approximations (no misrepresenting hokku as "haiku," for example); it requires accuracy with definitions, and certainly great reluctance in foolishly declaring any accurate and meaningful term "obsolete."  Above all, it requires a willingness to stand up to propagandistic manipulation of language by this or that movement or individual.

Whenever I read the accounts of the Haiku Society of America trying to convince editors of encyclopedias and dictionaries that the word "hokku" is "obsolete," I always think of Mark Twain's response after he was mistakenly thought to be dead -- "The report of my death is an exaggeration." 

The solution to all this is simple.  If we are talking about hokku, we call it hokku; if we are talking about waka, we call it waka; if we are talking about renga, we call it renga.   Do not confuse these traditional forms with what today is being written and presented in books, journals, and online sites as haiku, tanka and renku, which are, for the most part, simply modern Western accumulations of free verse presented, for reasons best known to their promoters, under those titles. 

David 

All'interno del social network i giovani che amano svolgere attività artistiche hanno la possibilità di costruirsi uno spazio che consenta loro di mettersi in evidenza.

Il social network offre ai suoi utenti uno spazio con blog, profili personali, foto, musica e video.

Lo Spazio Artist offre agli artisti emergenti nel campo della musica, danza, tv e moda e recitazione , la possibilità di mettersi in evidenza, facendosi così notare dai talent scout del mondo dello spettacolo.

(Fonte: www.dammispazio.com)

Ci saranno da compiere 28,5 km da Piazza Politeama, scendendo verso Mondello, per poi costeggiare il mare fino all'arrivo di Piazza Giuseppe Verdi. Il ritorno verso Palermo avverrà quando al traguaro mancheranno circa 20 km, la maggior parte lungo mare. Il tratto più spettacolare sarà appena dopo Mondello, la strada procederà lungo il litorale dell'Addaura, con sei fantastiche grotte, dove sono rinvenute anche incisioni rupestri. Superata la Punta di Priola si giunge al quartiere marinaro di Vergine Maria, poi ci si allontana leggermente dal mare puntando verso Palermo, si superano gli abitati di Arenella e Acquasanta. Quest'ultima è all'estremità settentrionale del distretto portuale di Palermo, uno dei più importanti di tutta Italia. I corridori rientreranno a Palermo per Piazza Giachery, sede del celebre carcere dell'Ucciardone. Giungendo poi nel Foro Italico. Al termine del viale, all'altezza del parco di Villa Giulia, si svolterà a destra in via Lincoln, per arrivare in Piazza Giulio Cesare. I girini saranno dirottati verso il centro di Palermo, attraverso via Roma, verso il traguardo ci sarà solo una lieve curva, per introdurre i corridori al traguardo di Piazza G.Verdi.
La premiazione avverrà sotto l'importante ingresso del Teatro Massimo, uno dei più grandi teatri lirici al mondo. Al termine della gara, alle ore 21, è previsto il concerto di Francesco Renga. Invece, Alex Britti si esibirà l'8 maggio a Piazza Castelbuono alle ore 21, stessa location in cui alle 18.30 verranno presentate le squadre che parteciperanno alla manifestazione sportiva

Clicca qui per vedere il percorso della 1^ tappa.

World Within Walls: Japanese Literature of the Pre-Modern Era, 1600--1867.

New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1976. Hardcover, 6.5x9.5" (17x23.5 cm), 606 + xv pages.

Condition: In d.j. with three slight tears and slight creasing, text and binding mint condition, signed by the author.

Original price: $22.95; this copy: $15 + shipping. Click for ordering info.

This is the first book issued of what would become Donald Keene's magnum opus, a brilliant 3--4 volume history of all Japanese literature (the number depends on whether you count the two-volume Dawn to the West as one or two "books"). With this volume and the volume of Dawn to the West mentioned in the previous post, one has a nearly complete history of what we call "haiku" as it grew and matured in Japan. (The only thing missing would be the pre-history of the genre, in the linked poetry---classical renga---of the 1300s--1500s, which features in Prof. Keene's final volume in the series, Seeds in the Heart.)

The opening six chapters of World Within Walls give the history of haikai from the late 15th century, when a more playful style of courtly renga began to emerge, to the full-blown art of Bashô, whom we know today as "the father of haiku", but who was actually a master of haikai no renga in his own time. Then, after seven chapters devoted to fiction (3), drama (3), and waka poetry, Keene takes up haikai again with chapters titled "Buson and the Haikai Revival" and "Haikai of the Late Tokugawa Period"; the latter mainly deals with Issa. Further excursions into fiction and drama intervene between these and the final three chapters, devoted to "Waka of the Late Tokugawa Period"; "Comic Poetry" dealing with kyoka, the "mad verses" related to waka; and "Poetry and Prose in Chinese"---written by Japanese authors.

Despite its large size and page-count, this book is set in very readable type, with good margins, and forms probably the best single-volume introduction in English to the writers and writings of the Tokugawa Era, the era that includes Bashô, Chiyo, Buson, Issa, and others of the time with whom we may be familiar from the writings of Blyth, Henderson, and others. Thus, it makes a good introduction not only to the haikai poets of this time, but but to contemporary writers and works with which they would have been familiar.

I picked up this copy at a used book store, mainly because of the fact that Donald Keene had signed it for someone (name withheld to protect the guilty!), and it seemed fun to get such a copy. But now, with my earlier copy of the same book all marked up, when I come to part with one, it's the signed copy that must go.

To Order: If you are interested in purchasing this copy of World Within Walls, e-mail me with name, postal address, and phone number.

Bill

Please, a single poem per page and write only on the right-side (so, not on the back of another’s haiku), put your name and country on the page of your contribution.

When the booklet is full contact me (user ID seleya) and I’ll mooch it back from you.

-Marina

Aaaaah che palle, cominciamo...ecco arrivare gli Amici, con le migliori intenzioni del mondo a farti capire che l'orologio biologico più che per loro, batte sopratutto per te e che sei irrimediabilmente "vecchia"

A prescindere che non ho ancora 30anni, non vi sembra di esagerare?

Sarò chiara, spero, una volta per tutte:
Per il passato ormai non posso fare più nulla, però per il futuro sì.

E allora ho deciso: sono una Maybach e al prossimo che tenta di trattarmi come un animale in estinzione, azionerò senza indugio alcuno il sedile ejettabile, e fuori dalle ovaie.

Sulla Maybach il vaffanculo non è un optional, viene montato di serie ed entra in azione in automatico nei seguenti casi:

- se l'uomo in questione si rivela incapace di farmi sentire nella pelle il suo I care, costante e senza défaillances;

- se finge di essere un Cyrano ma alla prima prova dei fatti si rivela essere un Cristiano. Nell'evenienza, non potrei che ricordargli che "Io volea della crema"... Di brodetti -grazie- ho già fatto il pieno;

- se si dimostra farcito di paranoie, problemi esistenziali e con una molesta propensione alla sega mentale (sicuro sintomo di inclinazione alla flaccidità in generale...). Insomma, se ha bisogno dello psy, diamine, che se ne paghi uno;

- se traccheggia e comincia a cianciare di "rapporto libero". Se mi bastasse il sesso comprerei un vibratore, che oltretutto ha il vantaggio di non lasciar peli in giro per il letto e non contribuisce alla desertificazione delle mie mucose; [ http://danielanews.iobloggo.com/archive.php?eid=82&cid=40699 ]

quindi amici miei, basta con ...

1 Cla dai, è ora
2 guardati attorno (facendo segno all'amico vicino)
3 ci sarà qualcuno che ti piace
4 non puoi essere così difficile
5 dovresti sognare meno il principe azzurro si è sbiadito
6 anche se non è bellissimo, l'importante è che abbia un C/c

Davvero ragazzi, STOP!

Si! qualcuno mi piace!

No non è l'amico al fianco, non sono difficile, solo che la mia dose di bastardi l'ho avuta, vorrei cambiare, i sogni sono desideri e io desidero molto una persona che ci sia con la testa e con il corpo, la bellezza è soggettiva, solo mi piacerebbe non spaventarmi se mi sveglio nella notte, chiaro che io non sono Carlà (Bruni) ma non sono nemmeno Camilla ok??

E basta ogni primavera farmi gli agguati presentandomi Tizio, Caio e Sempronio, se non sanno giocare, non sanno parlare, non sanno guardare al di la del proprio naso, se ti osservano come "oh mio God una femmina", se sanno disquisire solo di IO, IO, IO e poi aggiungono basta parlare di me cosa pensi di ME, allora LASCIATE PERDERE!!!!

(si ringrazia D. per la prima parte, senza la quale non avrei saputo dirlo meglio)

To see how it was different, we need to go back to the 15th century to a fellow named Sôgi, who, like Bashô later, was a writer of linked verse (renga).  And hokku was a part of that linked verse.  In fact it was Sôgi who made a season indicator such an essential part of hokku.

This early hokku was was elevated and somewhat elegant, and it reminds one of nothing so much as the longer waka, which also was generally elevated and elegant and tended toward beauty of the kind we find in this hokku by Sôgi:

From the grassy path
It sweeps the morning dew --
The willow.

What was lacking in this waka-like early hokku, and what was added later to make it the kind of hokku we know today, was a shift from verse on this high, "poetic" level to hokku that mixed the elevated with the common and earthy, verses that included frogs as well as nightingales, old women and beggars as well as cherry blossoms.

While early hokku (and the accompanying linked verses) tended to aim for the conventionally aesthetic and beautiful, the great discovery and innovation of later hokku was that it realized the beauty in things that were not conventionally beautiful -- in broken pots, and cats huddled in the rain, in muddy melons and a stake being hammered in the fog.  It is a kind of beauty that transcends conventional notions of what beauty is.

Those who study or write waka today in English thus have a problem when they come to hokku, because the atmosphere and the approach are different.  Waka deliberately aims for poetry, while hokku aims for significance.

That is also a problem many haiku writers have with hokku.  They tend to think that what they write should be poetic in some conventional sense, while writers of hokku do not aim for poetry.  In fact even calling hokku "poetry" can be misleading because of the baggage of preconceptions about poetry that people bring to it.

Hokku is nothing like conventional poetry.  What is notable about it does not lie in its words, which are very simple.  Nor does it lie in clever manipulation of vocabulary, such as we find in so much contemporary poetry today.  Hokku is, essentially, just a means of conveying a sensory experience, and it is the experience that is important, not the words.  They are merely the raft that gets us there, and once they have done that job, they are no longer needed.

Is it any wonder, then, that Western poets generally see little value in, and pay little attention to, the hokku?  It is a poor thing, based on the principles of poverty and simplicity, and it does not offer the scope for the elevation of the ego that is found in longer verse.  And that is one of the great virtues of hokku.  It takes us away from trying to become "poets," and turns our heads toward Nature.  It takes us away from complexity, and back to simplicity.

That is why I always tell beginners to forget about poetry, and forget about wanting to be known as a "poet."  Just patiently learn the principles and aesthetics of hokku that enable one to get out of the way so that Nature may speak in your writing, rather than the ego.

--------- 

In principio li conobbi con "I cantieri su Torino", parodia de "Il cielo su Torino" dei Subsonica; era l'inizio del 2006 e pensavo fosse una cosa isolata, vox clamantis in deserto come diceva sempre il mio prof d'inglese. Poi quest'autunno se ne escono con "La manutenzione" (parodia de "La glaciazione, ancora dei Subsonica); geniale, tutta in tema con problemi al termosifone (qui si è rotto il boiler... mi fa morire quel pezzo!). E queste vacanze di Natale sono stati rigorosamente loro, i Fratelli Sberlicchio, ad imperare nel mio stereo. Non vi preoccupate, non dimentico Spitty Cash e i bambini poveri, eeehhhh... Per chi non li conosce consiglio brevemente:

"Cambio Posizione" (parodia di "Cambio direzione " di Renga)

"Il badile" (parodia di "Più stile" di J Ax)

"Parlami d'amore - Remix" (parodia dei Negramaro)

"Ready, set, go - Remix" (parodia dei Tokio Hotel) 

A parte i testi al limite del genio poetico, vorrei far notare la quasi perfezione nelle imitazioni di voci, cadenze e difetti di pronunce degli originali. Veri prefessionisti! E contate che a me le canzoni originali non hanno mai fatto impazzire. Subsonica  a parte, ovviamente.

Gift of Giselle Maya, [editor and] publisher, to whom much thanks.

This handsomely produced booklet of 36 unnumbered pages comes sewn inside a stiff hand-made paper cover, the insides nicely printed on high-quality book paper, all in pleasing earth-tones. (The production values suggest letter-press, though that does not seem to be the printing process.)

The poems, which span the range indicated above, are by an'ya, Ion Codrescu, Christopher Herold, Kirsty Karkow, Mari Konno, Elizabeth Searle Lamb, Angela Leuck, Giselle Maya, June Moreau, Pamela Miller Ness, and Jane Reichhold, so those familiar with the haiku-and-related scene in North America will find work by many writers whom they already know. The renga, a kasen (i.e., 36 stanzas) between the editor and Jane Reichhold and a six-verse piece by the editor and Ion Codrescu, are both presented as if they were series of tan-renga, or two-person tanka. Otherwise, the poems are all in the contemporary mode of free-verse or organic-form haiku and tanka, in three or five lines, respectively, with some attention to the usual short-long rhythmical patterns characteristic of these kinds of poems. As the title suggests, "peace" is either an obvious theme or at least an undercurrent through the work. One of the many attractive tanka is this light-hearted, positive-affect piece by June Moreau:

at last the foal
is able to stand
I think
it got a little help
from the robin's song

A very pleasant addition to anyone's haiku/tanka/renga collection.

Copies may be purchased from the publisher:

Giselle Maya
Koyama Press
84750 St. Martin de Castillon
France

Inquire price via e-mail to Giselle Maya.

tranquil mist
cranes in shallow tides
camellia above

your cast-off robe
melts the late snow

spring’s waters
on entwined legs
cries not from cold

acacia’s bloom
the heat a false promise

No, ni en esta luz
Ni en este pensamiento
Ha ya más tiempo.
Me encapucha la luna
Derramando lágrimas.

Me verás morir
Rodeado de epígrafes
De tus olores.
Y habré de confesarme
Como umbral de la nada.

Jamás dormiré.
Cuando vuelva del sueño,
Tal vez en otro,
Cómo podré amarte
Cruzando tu mirada.

Confieso todo
En este palimpsesto.
Sólo me guían
Camafeos de celos
A moverme entre letras.

De mi escritorio
Salen restos de cartas.
Voy desatando
Actos no publicados
Con los demás clásicos.

Voy a escribirte
Catálogos de oriente.
Fiebre sudada
Bajo la luz detestada
De un ego amanerado.

Al no encontrarte
Caigo en el recuerdo,
Agonizante,
Por los bordes del brillo
De esta cama vacía.

Leo sin verte
La borra del destino.
Así destierro
El día arrepentido
Con sus quebrados ramos.

Y tropezarás
Dentro de mis palabras,
Arrepentido,
Al verte enceguecido
Por este testamento

¿Dónde hay flores?
¿En este bosque voraz
Dónde estaré?
¿En el cuello del sueño?
¿En las mangas de la muerte?

Se horroriza
De los empapelados
Que hacia el frío
Exhalan su últimos
Vahos de narcóticos.

A nuestro hotel
Lo rodean serpientes,
Corren carreras,
Sibilan entre las zanjas.
¿Nos recuperaremos?

No hay más tiempo.
Tus ojos de laureles
Apenas lloran.
Los vestidos no lucen,
Ya no están de moda.

Como cerezas,
Así, de este momento.
Cuento las gotas
Doradas sobre el plumón
Que abriga tu fiebre.

Ocurriría
Al fin frente al tocador.
Un erotismo
De alhelí prodigio
Estampando tu pija.

Nubes de vapor
Del calor de tu boca.
¿Invernaras
Otras frutas, no rosas,
Del deseo que mata?

En la Alfombra
La tormenta dibuja
Tu respiración
Que se desvanecerá
Después de la nevada.

Del cielo nada.
Abro las manos como
Hojas hambrientas.
Ni luz, ni bendiciones
Para las carnivoras.

Envenenado
Te abrazo como a un cactus.
Soy tu insecto.
¿Por las espinas amo?
¿Soy tu precoz esclavo?

De noche nacen
Arañitas de sangre.
Tosés y se secan.
Caen por la hemorragia
De tu nariz al blanco.

¡Estas pirañitas!
¿Saldrán de las sábanas
Los guardavidas
Del mundo de los sueños?
¿Dónde habré caído?

No nacíamos.
Del sufrimiento estas
Olas no vuelven.
Y sólo recubrirán
El alba de la tibieza.

Brusco designio
Donde hunde la noche
Su sarcófago
Al inclinarte sobre
Cientos de almohadones.

Huelo a moras.
Huelo a la fatalidad
En esta noche
De la lengua materna
Y de su coronación.