starlings murmur in the sky, sing and chirp,
rise and roll, and with a wing in turn
each one follow the neighbour, and the next one to the seventh
turn and twist, swoop and soar
from the first to the seventh to the forty-ninth.
as a child you tried counting the starlings in the sky.
starlings murmur at twilight at winter
reach for the horizon and the sky, and heavens.
you gape and gasp, you hold them dear
at twilight you count you blessings.
for now you stop counting starlings or years
you only marvel at beauty that mocks the time
you breathe with the rhythm of eternity.
a falcon dives in surprise, to strike to snatch to kill
but starlings rise and fall and flap and
shape an oak, a home and a sanctuary, that
open branches to nestle to protect to shield
the little souls of starlings.
little blessings they are.
and starlings shape a girl gazing at the sky and
counting the starlings time and again,
turns to a woman to a mother.
she sins, she is destined to mortality
yet the child she yields is sweeter than the apple
she open hands to cuddle to protect to nurture
and starlings shape the child who is
to grow an young oak to place the old the blighted the felled
to open innocent eyes wide in wonder
and count these starlings.
and starlings knit a lace of time beyond
the fleeting moment the passing body
the sign, regardless blessing or warning
you hold the moment you hold the starlings dear.
© 2026 Homo Ignoramus. All rights reserved
Blog
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A Murmuration of Starlings – Blessing or Warning.
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The Great Pacific Garbage Patch
Let me introduce myself if you haven’t heard about the Great Pacific Garbage Patch already. I was born in the 20th century, but not planned and left floating on rivers and lakes. Yes, like Moses in the basket, except for not being a human but plastic debris, shoes and clothes, phones and fishing nets, all signs of the advanced human civilisation. Taken by the winds and currents, all that jumble ends in open waters. Different people, even cities and nations have looked after me. Not because they are good people but because they are ignorant. It is not hard to find garbage to feed on. It is anywhere: in water and air and land.
In 1997 I have been discovered. People are amazed to see me alive and well, and grown beyond any expectations. I am the oldest and biggest of five. Yes, I have four more siblings. That is how we all were born. Sometimes conceived in the very source of the river and travel all the way to the mouth and from there to lakes and seas and oceans. Once taken by the five gyres, all that murky soup spins around and around until the middle become a pile of trash, almost an isle, the so-called Trash Isles. And if you do not know what a gyre is, I have a simple explanation. Think of the vortex of your toilet. Better when you clean it, isn’t it?
Since I am the oldest and biggest, people start devising plans to get rid of me. Start researching how and when and why I was born. After 50 years or so, they have decided to measure me. As of 2018 I span over an area of 1.6 sq km. The weight estimation varies from 45 000 to 129 000 metric tonnes. By the international standards one metric tonne is 1000 kg. You do the maths. All that is plastic debris and other trash.
Do I smell or stink ? That depends on your nose sensitivity and world view. The phenolic smell of plastic mixes with the rotting flesh of dead animals. Because birds and fishes and other marine creatures tangle and drown in fishing nets. It is a long and torturous death. Plastic resin pellets are mistaken for fish eggs and shopping bags for jelly fish. Micro plastic resembles plankton and marine animals feed on that. No stomach, human or non-human, can digest it. But it goes up the food chain and on your table.
I have witness it many times and tried to send the information across. People have decided that I am an attention seeker.
Despite the size and foul smell some still do not see me (or do not want to). Refuse to understand or believe in my existence, in my abundancy of microplastics and chemicals and toxic metals. Ignorance is bliss, as people say.Not a solid land on which one can walk, they say, but only a sort of murky soup. It is not that bad then. They cannot see me from the space or sailing through the waters. Well, a huge part of me floats under the surface or has sunk on the ocean floor.
A short note on my family history, if that’s alright. The Age of Plastic started less than a century before my birth. The invention of bakelite, easily moulded and shaped, rigid and durable, became an epitome of an advanced economy. Consumers on mass scale could afford desirable and relatively cheap products. Cameras, radios, telephone. The family of synthetic polymers, with few more generations to come, thrust its omnipotent and ubiquitous presence in people’s life. All well and good.
But no one had seen the evil coming. The present is bleak. The total annual plastic production is over 400 million tonnes. Only 10% of it is recycled. The projections for the future are bleaker. The waste in the oceans would triple by 2040. Plastic could surpass fish.
The oceans produce 50% of the oxygen people need to live, and absorb 25% of the carbon dioxide emissions and the ever-climbing heat on the planet. They influence the water cycle and rainfall, and ultimately the global climate patterns. And they provide food and a living for millions of people.
So, where the problems lie? People pride themselves to be on the top of not only the food chain but also the intelligence chain (although, I guess, the AI would argue with that).
Politicians and business tycoons and environmentalist are at loggerheads. People have more questions than answers. First of all, the Garbage Patches and Trash Isles are in no-man’s waters. Who and how to clean them all? What should they concentrate on? Regulations on the plastic production or waste management and recycling? Which is more cost effective and profitable – virgin plastics or the recycled? What are the effects of microplastic on human and marine wellbeing? Talks in tangents.
In 2022, 25 years after my discovery, the Global Plastic Treaty has been proposed. And an agreement not reached. The future plans, schedule and techniques are as murky as the plastic ocean soup.
Not all is bad. As of January 2026, the Ocean Clean up has removed 50 million kg of waste. They use floating barriers in open waters and interception technology in rivers to curb the waste flow. It is a colossal effort, and yes comes at a steep price. Yet, it is a drop in the ocean compared to the annual net profit of the global plastic production (not sure the pun is intended or not).
And a simple yet brilliant idea came to me. My hobby, the indiscriminate collection of human trash, could be a lucrative business. I have founded Trash Management Ltd and all my siblings work with me. The business has grown beyond any expectation. All of us are trillionaires now. We collect the waste, sort it out and send it to the moon. They do not have the proper logistics and facilities for recycling there but it is away from our eyes and noses and minds.
Until that point, I have never been invited on a summit talk or conference. Be it in politics or business, science or technology, or environment. Now, I am a very important guest on every high-profile event. Media. Interviews. Spotlights. But I am not the person of the moment, oh no. Even the fashion shows, high or fast, scramble to invite me.
After a long fight, we are recognised as an independent nation with currency and language. We are given passports to travel freely. Honestly, we travelled freely without passports but now we can do it legally. I am the founder and leader of the Trash Party and a candidate for PM in the first general elections of the United Countries of the Great Patches and Trash Isles.That I still grow in size despite all the human attempt to get rid of me is beyond doubt. I possess the ability to adapt and mutate and recover. And soon, oh yes very soon, the United Countries are going to be the greatest nation and leading economy in the world.
if you are interested more in waste management on our planet please read Fast Fashion – the Insatiable Appetite
© 2026 Homo Ignoramus. All rights reserved
Sources:
www.bbc.co.uk
www.thegurdian.com
en.wikipedia.org