Orla Martin-Somewhat Vortex
Somewhat Vortex, the debut poetry collection by Orla Martin, is a response to the ebb and flow of life. Landmarked by loss, by love, by hope, the work is underscored by a warm and witty thread. A singular and somewhat staccato style brings into focus a unique take on the banal, the absurd and occasionally a robin. Angled over life, the poet seeks to understand and connect the zig zag of people, the jagged and plume with lambent portraits of family, epilogues to love and a view from the poetry spectrum. Some poems are the flotsam and jetsam of error, others are rare bright star bursts of content. There is a guest appearance by Wilson, the emotional support blackbird. There are Tuesday clothes. There could have been many more references to Radiohead. There are poems that may create something beautiful, perhaps.
There is something wonderfully theatrical about Orla Martin’s debut collection Somewhat Vortex, with many of its poems begging for a mike and a captive audience. But like all theatre, behind the drama, the irony, the self-deprecating wit lies the quiet pain and hard-earned joy of what it means to be human. Remember, not too much of yourself, it scares them
off – the poem’s narrator reminds herself, but these poems insist on having their say, unexpectedly revealing through playful and clever use of language, the darkness as well as the light – leave me untamed, uneven, odd, hopping for my life down the street. Short and sweet, with a satisfying sting in its tail, Somewhat Vortex will have you standing in your seat, shouting ‘More!’