Rhythm of OCD

Too much fun
This ain’t right
Assure me
Tolerate me
This soul is made of love
Unable to represent
Willing to constitute
So much care
And that ain’t right
Genetics they are
Please be obsessed
Force the key steps
hit it, knock it
Seek timing
for every single count
End this November
Close this chapter
These ain’t right
Ain’t right with the
wrong person.

~ Ima ~

The poem explores the theme of the rhythm of OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder) through a series of fragmented thoughts and emotions. The poet expresses a sense of imbalance and dissatisfaction, claiming that too much fun feels wrong and seeking assurance and tolerance from others. They acknowledge their soul is filled with love but feel unable to represent themselves fully. Despite their caring nature, they believe something is inherently wrong. They mention genetics, perhaps alluding to a possible biological or hereditary component of OCD. The poet asks to be obsessed and urges themselves to forcefully follow certain steps or rituals. They use phrases like “hit it, knock it” to emphasize the need for precise actions. They seek a specific timing and rhythm, counting every beat, possibly reflecting the compulsive nature of OCD. The poem concludes with a desire for closure, aiming to end a chapter, symbolically represented by November. The poet suggests that the current situation or relationship feels wrong and emphasizes the mismatch with the wrong person. In summary, the poem delves into the experience of OCD, highlighting its disruptive impact on the poet’s thoughts and emotions. It conveys a sense of longing for balance, understanding, and resolution within the context of this mental health condition.

-Ima-

In Africa, the rivers are perfectly deep and beautifully wide – A Coldplay song called Èkó

This is the second song review that I will be undertaking which will again be another Coldplay song. I can’t stress this enough, but I have come across no other lyrical master than Chris Martin himself who intersperses subtle surprises in between his lyrics that I enjoy so much deciphering. Why Èkó? Not so obvious. Well, I could have chosen some mega Coldplay hit to write about, but no, I stick with Èkó for good reason. Èkó used to be a song that I would usually skip in my Coldplay playlist, as initially, it failed to stand out for any reason. But recently, just one single word in this song stood out for me randomly, which got me into diving a bit deeper into its lyrics. The word is “Lagos”. Lagos is a very lively Nigerian city, and I wouldn’t have paid much attention to this if not for the new international companions that I’ve gathered recently from my time in Europe. My Nigerian colleague had passingly mentioned Lagos a few times which caused me to recognise that it’s this city Chris Martin is singing about, and I wanted to dig a little deeper into its lyrics. My colleague’s dissection of it went more perfectly than expected, as he, who comes from Benin (a region just next to Lagos), was a perfect source of information providing a stellar interpretation of the lyrics from his own local point of view, that I would never have been able to come up with.

Èkó is the third track of Coldplay’s eighth album “Everyday Life” (sunset side), featuring backing vocals from the Nigerian singer Tiwa Savage. The song’s title “Èkó”, I learned, is a native name for the city Lagos, coined by its first King (Oba), Oba Ado. After trying out several angles, my colleague somehow concluded that the song seems like a narrative of a Nigerian expatriate who is visiting his motherland. So, Joseph, our protagonist, is coming back to Lagos, presumably his hometown, riding in on a “beam of light”, which according to my colleague, indicates a luxurious life that Joseph had had the opportunity to enjoy elsewhere in the world. Africans, seeking greener pastures is not unheard of, especially considering the numbers by which you find Africans in Europe, the USA, Canada, UK, and the boom of university enrolments of African students in these countries. Their determination to go seek better lives is unfortunately driven mostly by the current less-than-ideal economic and political situations that prevail, which is true for most nations nowadays, including mine. One other interesting thing that I learned here is the biblical story of Joseph the dream interpreter, one of the twelve sons of Jacob, who was betrayed by his brothers and sold into slavery in Egypt, where he achieves success in terms of status and wealth, eventually becoming the governor of Egypt. Later, Joseph, a paragon of forgiveness, wisely and nobly sustains the whole country and his brothers during a famine through his good fortune. I couldn’t help but draw parallels between this biblical Joseph and our Joseph from Èkó, who, in a way, seem to be following the same road (If you like, you can check out the animation “Joseph: King of Dreams (2000) by DreamWorks Animation to learn more about biblical Joseph, which I enjoyed watching).

Our Joseph comes back home to the “stray dogs and fights” of Lagos, which, as my colleague points out, are common sights of typical Nigerian urban cities that cause to establish a general populous ethos in the country. And Lagos, specifically, is the most populous city in the country with an ever-increasing population of 15 million people. And, of course, outwardly, the mention of religious establishments (the corrugate cathedrals) in the lyrics comes as no surprise since the majority in Lagos are evangelist Christians and religion is obviously held in high esteem. But why the use of the word “corrugate”? Could it be referring to the actual architecture of these religious establishments, or on a serious note, to the more commonplace, ordinary houses of the common man, supposedly with corrugated roofs which probably are respectable cathedrals to their inhabitants? I personally like to believe this second notion.

And then, the mention of the word “pilgrims” in the song is fascinating to me. Because what I’ve freshly learned was that “foreigners” or rather the alternative forms of people that are different from their own selves, are a factor for excitement and fascination for most Nigerians and are often referred to as “pilgrims”. But now, returning to his motherland, the roles might have been reversed and the rest of the countryfolk our Joseph meets, might come off as “pilgrims” or “foreigners” to him, due to the possible alienation he might have brought upon himself through his ex-pat status. So, instead of his brothers and sisters, “the sight of the pilgrims going nowhere in millions of cars” is what he gets to witness in his mind. They are “going nowhere”, because he might be under the impression that he himself is now going “somewhere”, owing to the luxuries of education or profession, or status that he might have achieved. And “millions of cars” is, well, simply and literally “millions of cars” because this is Lagos! Now, Lagos is only just a “dream”, an unattainable entity, that he probably once had, a dream to see it prosper, grow, and develop. The expectations he had for his country, in terms of the promises he made to himself, to help it grow someday and push it to a better state, have now evidently dissolved into a distant dream. Coming back, he probably realizes now that all his determination might be in vain, for there will be “no harvest”, despite any actions for betterment. Despite the unfortunate state of his motherland, he, a denizen of a continent plump with natural aesthetic beauty, is nevertheless deemed to miss its soul, its magic during his time away, which is portrayed here in the lyrics by the “sky and its circus and the millions of stars”. The sky and the stars could signify the elevation, the glory, and the majesty while the “circus” of colours in the sky reflected in the ever-pervasive entertainment characteristic of the African cultures.

Then comes the chorus of the song, a beautiful conglomeration of words that effectively captures the unique essence of the whole continent and its beauty that screams “Africa”. Personally, to me, the “African-ness” had always been what I felt when I was watching Lion King in my early years as I was growing alongside the magical animation. When the lyrics go “In Africa, the rivers are perfectly deep and beautifully wide”, I can think of nothing else but the opening to the movie and the way how the sun rises over the savannah, and over the glistening rivers with “Nants ingonyama bagithi baba” in the background.

Here’s a bit of the opening clip from Lion King, my favourite animation movie and how I first got introduced to Africa.

However, it’s not just that the waters and rivers, as a natural phenomenon, are always associated with the playfulness, unity, and harmony among the civilizations that benefitted from them, but also, another brilliant interpretation of my colleague states how the waters of Africa can connect both black and white nations in this diverse land mass of Africa, as the rivers meander along merging and dissolving a continent of multiple hues into one single entity. This connection with the waters and rivers is again emphasised later in the song with the line, “We dance in the water and hold each other so tight”. Again, stressing on the unity, harmony, and connection of a connected nation through and through, which Joseph had probably missed. The kind of emotional comfort and homeliness that you experience in your own country or home, which you are generally deprived of once you move away, is brilliantly highlighted in the part, “The mothers will sing you to sleep and say, “It’s alright, child It’s alright””. Who else can make you feel at home than your own mothers, these strangely designed group of people, the fountains of unconditional love, who would reassure you and say that everything is alright, even when nothing is, sometimes, which is something unfortunate and universal to most of the poor nations in the world.

So, Chris Martin sings about Lagos and Africa alternately in the verses and the chorus, which made my colleague suggest the idea that he might probably be using Nigeria and Lagos as a reference point to talk about Africa in general. Finally, toward the song’s end, we see that Joseph “dreams of his queen by his side”. Could this “queen” be his actual wife,  whom he wishes to spend the beautiful “sunset” of his life with, or, as my colleague sees, his country could be as important to him as a “queen” for whom he wishes the best possible fate, that is to witness her as a bride, beautiful and adorned, indicating the never-dying love and hope our ex-pat still carries in his heart for his dear motherland.

Furthermore, we should definitely consider Chris Martin’s own original definition of the song which goes like this:

Here is the song called Èkó, which some of you may know as, the sort of local word for Lagos, one of the big cities in Nigeria, it’s also known as Èkó. And this song is about a guy called Joseph who is just a made-up character but, could be me or and also could be someone who leaves the countryside to try and make it in the city. It’s actually what I did and what we all did in the band and cities are tough, and lonely, and amazing, and uplifting, and all sort of things rolled into one. And this is the song “Èkó

Our take on the song might be a bit straying off from what Chris Martin originally had in mind, but as Chris himself says in his interview, “Chris Martin on Uninterrupted Disruption – Everyday Life Track by Track”, he doesn’t really like to explain the songs, as he doesn’t seem to understand them himself (so humble). So, let’s all assume that it’s alright to come up with our own interpretation for it as well, which also seems fitting and plausible in our eyes. Furthermore, I highly recommend you check out this interview, where he walks you through all the songs of the album “Everyday Life” (Please check out this great interview from the link below). This album has got to be one of my favourite Coldplay albums where the overall theme takes a turn from more general notions like love, to discussing more practical societal challenges currently faced by human beings, thereby diverting our awareness to where it’s actually required. Èkó, as a part of this great album that exudes the “humanness” of everyday life, is now a gem that I have recently unearthed and is therefore totally MyCuppaTea.

Check out the lyrics to the song :


Joseph rode in on a beam of light
Stray dogs to welcome him, fights, corrugate cathedrals
The sight of the pilgrims going nowhere in millions of cars


Lagos a dream in the distance
From promises he’d made behind
Where there was no harvest
But he missed the sky and its circus
And countless, the stars

In Africa
The rivers are perfectly deep
And beautifully wide
In Africa
The mothers will sing you to sleep
And say, “It’s alright, child
It’s alright”

In Africa
We dance in the water and hold
Each other so tight
In Africa
The mothers will sing you to sleep
And say, “It’s alright, child
It’s alright”

Joseph rode in on a beam of light
And dreamed of his queen by his side
There’ll be a beautiful sunset
And you’ll be a beautiful bride

Stream of my Hurt

It was the sleep of my pain,

Boredom to the eyes of my mind

Innocently plagued by words

My heart was in a hurry to laugh

So much, so little

Much knowledge making my world dizzy

I struggle with the molecule of my biology

No one dares to believe mere opinions

Yet so convincing is the history of labelled organisms

Gene against gene; the war of microbial intelligence

Alas, it is no choice in freedom

Destiny was given a vague definition in brief eternity

The beginning of an ending

Everyone listening for the treasure of scores

Well, all my ribo hear the voice of a transfer

It’s no D or N that makes an A relevant

All I want is to keep my cosmos simple and free

Striking taps of buttons

Intimidating the loneliness of my simplicity

My hand never mind, do what only your eyes cry out for

Write out the letters of your heart

Never care if you are all alone

Besides, your before, during and after are all up to you and you alone.

A Clockwise Life in a Timeless World

A bright afternoon under a breathing tree,

Given life by the smile of the beautiful sun,

Imagining that I was time and time was me,

What power in my hands to define the meaning of life,

Yet made by One beyond my boundaries,

It’s no contest to believe I am more significant,

Without a connection to my ancient history,

Why do I fail to understand the horizon of my brevity,

A moment my pen gives life to my thoughts,

My eyes screamed the words of my heart,

As I beheld all creatures speak to my curiosity,

Fading away with the gripping hands of seconds,

Now let me count my walking minute,

As the hours hilariously whisper to my aging heart,

That I am living a clockwise life in a timeless world.

No Dying Dreams

Dreams outside the space of time,

Never on bended knees to reason,

Neither on standing feet to purpose,

Yet, it’s no will to believe it’s just a wish,

Rootless without a defined course or route,

Is my destination in pictures, a reflection of my joy,

Why am I so ignorant of a chance to truly live,

Torn apart by many opinions, diverse perceptions,

This isn’t the me created… this is just helpless clay trying to make sense,

Pulled out of the womb of pain,

Told that there was some ancient prophecy without a voice,

All in a moment, my time walks with a waving hand,

Soon stops to give me a long, careless hug,

Amid its rush towards meeting its ancestors called eternity,

Oh, that my ignorance knew its worth but not its place,

Knowing that “I don’t know” speaks peace to peace,

A reflection of my identity in one beyond the skies,

My dream still lives because death is alien to its reality.

The Sweet Pain of my Perception

Such a view of an undulating universe, the stars singing to the melody of photons;

Not scared or intimidated to shine in quite beautiful darkness;

It’s never an “anyone for himself” in the outer cosmos,

Rather a connection beyond the definition of gravity;

Would I have wished to be among the constellations;

All embedded in a blend of uninterrupted serenity;

What a privilege to behold the majesty of a misunderstood dimension without a voice for an explanation;

By chance, I would earn a minute conversation with nature itself.

Would I dare to ask “Are these all about you alone”? Should I believe so?

Indeed, faith to believe in nothing or even in something, either way, is a risk to believe in anything;

What an oceanic risk, everyone asserts a belief, now and beyond;

Yet a Being treated with absolute unapologetic disdain seemingly without a logical voice?

Must I defend something or “someone” with an abstract rationale?

Ja, let me choose rhema after logos in the fullness of bio and technikos;

This is the sweet pain of my perception.

No One Knows

A shocking day arrives on my timeline,

My mind was in a state of a raging storm,

Many thoughts wrestling for visibility,

All challenged by the gravity of my reality,

Even the vicinity sings boring songs,

And my eyes have become a collapsed dam,

Earthquakes of imaginations rattle my brain cells,

And no one knows why we are but silent talkers,

Is everything supposed to be true?

What if all were a deception of my cranial neurons?

Lies very true than the truth of my personality?

No surprise no one hears the screams of my heart,

Crying out loud, every day searching for a couple of peace and purpose,

A journey of lightyears in a few days,

And soon everything will be calm and yet no one knows.

Patient to learn

In the atmosphere of my mind flew a flock of thoughts,

Reason seems to swim in the ocean of my consciousness,

While sitting with many estudiantes in the belly of a designed giant,

With crowded specks of light running a beautiful race,

Just outside the handsome skins of glass across the wall,

As we listen to a passionate voice of a chica,

Our diversity muttering unity to the tyranny of knowledge,

Many were voiceless to the sincerity of their boredom,

Yet play the game of Latin smile and a burst of Nigerian laughter,

In desperation for a koinonia with Espanyol,

Lips dancing to the beat of language,

Just when laughter decides to spray its perfume everywhere,

Nuevo logos entertains us with good frustration,

Everyone enjoys a moment in time.

While the future waits for us to arrive,

Nevertheless, we will be patient to learn.

Too Young to Cry?

A young boy cries and no one asks why?

What a beautiful morning to receive an invitation in the living mailbox of my being;

It was a call from the royal chambers of history, a beckoning to attend a symposium of thoughts;

What a radical diversity to watch races of feelings all gallantly dressed in the attires of a rich past;

Uber, what a moment to click the start button of my tear gland with an electric impulse of sight;

A beholding of a gorgeous thought smeared all over with a fragrance of pain, deep pain;

Soon, she approached me with a smile and took me for a walk through the woods of my past;

A strange morning indeed it was for a little child loved beyond love itself by a selfless mother;

To take a glance at his true jewel on bended knees of silent pain and sudden lameness;

Is this happening? My only mother precisely struck with a dart of stroke;

A supposed roadblock in an innocent neuron within the city of her precious brain;

Her bulgy eyes of red collide with my watery channels of sight, a message sent to me;

“I love you, son” remains the undeniable picture of her wildered countenance;

The doors of my ears flung open to the faintest voice in my cosmos “Call your Dad for me”;

My emotional adrenaline charged up, my body quickened by grief, and my feet put to flight;

Soon, a myriad of dark days and bright nights, my young heart in the cradle of daily sorrows;

“Why, just why my mother?”, the naïve cry of love echoes through the dimensions of time,

Indeed the universe wailed with a loud voice saying “this boy is too young to cry”.

For the love of Haiku (2)

August charm imbued,
A tombstone that marks the dead,
Mushrooms bind us all

Lush green carpets and
A cerulean ceiling 
Make my vernal dreams

Books, hot coffee and 
A warm blanket in winter 
Heaven in my room
Music in my ears
The path, rolling on for miles
It's my perfect mood

Valencian sea,
Mediterranean air
Still, something’s amiss

I see you shine, but
How do I comprehend the
Far side of the moon