The initialism OCL can have several meanings, depending on context:
Ruprecht 147 or NGC 6774 is a dispersed star cluster in the Milky Way galaxy. It is about 1,000 light years away, which is close to Earth in comparison with other such clusters. In late summer, it can be seen with binoculars in the constellation of Sagittarius. The stars, bound by gravity, are about 2 billion years old. The cluster, discovered in 1830 by John Herschel, was long thought to be an asterism (a random collection of stars) and remained underappreciated until 2012, when it was identified as a potentially important reference gauge for astrophysics research, particularly the research of Sun-like stars.
NGC 188 is an open cluster in the constellation Cepheus. It was discovered by John Herschel in 1825. Unlike most open clusters that drift apart after a few million years because of the gravitational interaction of our galaxy, NGC 188 lies far above the plane of the galaxy and is one of the most ancient of open clusters known, at approximately 5 billion years old.
NGC 188 is very close to the North Celestial Pole, under five degrees away, and in the constellation of Cepheus at an estimated 5,000 light year distance, this puts it slightly above the Milky Way's disc and further from the center of the galaxy than the Sun.
A rope tightens
Breath constricted
No hand pulls this is self-inflicted sickness
Sickness
Self diagnosed without witness
Wish list grip fist
The beggary of riches
A belly full fights never willingly
An empty stomach does not have the energy to finish it
Layers in between
Padded by a dream
Stretching for the means
Without thought of exhausting the seams
No space for indiginity
On the face of simplicity
A taste of sufficiency's
A bellyfull of lethargy
A dash of apathy a pinch of extacy's a recipe
Serving up a feast for the beast of our treachery
Not sure if your getting celebrity's out effigy
I hear just fine
But I'm deaf to those next to me
Conflict it perplexes me
Cause out biggest battle
Is now we're so free that we choose to be shackled
I'm stuck freedom lasso
This invisible strain of the human stain
Colours every brain, vein
Thus chained to another's pain
We may not be the artist by we surely are the fram
We may just be the smoke
But we cannot blame the flame
Strange is the fruit
That nourishes not the vein
Yet we are odder still
For we seek it like the rain
Nothing bounds out path
Yet we march perfect in lane
Whoever saw a tiger that desired to be tamed?
Reality defies
Nature does not know surprise
Yet the lesion of our season blinds even the eagle's eyes
Spies dread not headlock tight as threadknot
Get lost why throw a bone to a dead dog?
This is not charity
That is just sarcasm
That's why we bite so hard and never bark at em
Spark at em's insane
It's play gather and prey
When even the mighty tiger
He desires to be tamed
I'm stuck freedome lasso
They act as if it's positive
Though it's so obviously derogative
And even if you're bobby
This is never your prerogative
It's obvious we're warriors
And crooked just like bobby is
But colleges and mockeries
Will never make a socrates
Apologies and robberies
They follow with atrocity
Sorrow and hypocrisy
Don't make very good crockery
Watchin' this it's horror bliss
And one day I will promise this
The day the tiger wakes