Poetry Podcast

Paul Tran is a talented poet who wrote a poem about their experience as a transgender person. They compare themselves to deep sea creatures who create their own light. Tran explains that even though they may appear hideous, their adaptation is beautiful. They describe swimming towards a life away from societal norms and the resilience it takes to be true to oneself. The poem explores the parallels between being transgender and the lives of deep sea fish. Tran concludes by realizing that they are their own power and that their journey is not yet over. Hello, my name is Samuel, and today's poem is by Paul Tran. Paul Tran is a brilliant poet who received the New York Times Book Review Editor's Choice Pick for their debut poem collection, All the Flowers Kneeling, which is based on their experience being a survivor of sexual violence. Paul got their bachelor's from Bragg University and a master of fine arts from Washington University. The poem being read today talks about their experience with being transgender and how it makes them feel like an outcast. I had a very similar experience with feeling like an outcast. It was my first day in 7th grade year. I get out of the car and begin to walk into the quad. In that moment, all of a sudden, it felt like I was the most interesting thing that was happening because at that moment, everyone's eyes locked on to me. Their eyes followed me all the way to my locker until the next one arrived, and then everyone's eyes, including mine, locked on to them, and that's all it took for me to realize that I wasn't alone. A lot of these people were feeling the same way, lost, confused, and mostly feeling like an outcast. Later that day, I was thinking about what happened, and I came to the conclusion that what everyone else thought doesn't really matter. I'm happy with who I am as a person. The resilience of overcoming the feeling of being uncomfortable with yourself is one of the most important things that you can learn in life. Bioluminescence by Paul Tran There's a dark, so deep beneath the sea, the creatures beget their own light. This feat, this act of adaptation, I could say, is beautiful, though the creatures are hideous. Lanternfish, hatchetfish, viperfish, I, not unlike them, forfeited beauty to glimpse the world hidden by eternal darkness. I subsisted on falling matter, unaware from where or why matter fell, and on weaker creatures beguiled by my luminosity, my hideous face opening suddenly to take them into a darkness darker and more eternal than this underworld underwater. I swam and swam toward nowhere and nothing. I, after so much isolation, so much indifference, kept going, even if going meant only waiting, hovering in place, so far below, so far away from the rest of life. The terrestrial made possible by and thereby dependent upon life. I did what I had to do. I stalked. I killed. I wanted to feel in my body, my body at work, working to stay alive. I swam. I kept going. I waited. I found myself, without meaning to, without contriving meaning at the time, in time, in the company of creatures who, hideous like me, had to be their own illumination, their own god, their own genesis. Often we feuded, often we fused like angler fish, blood to blood, desire to desire. We were wild, bewildered, beautiful in our own wilderness and wildness. In the most extreme conditions we proved that life can exist. I exist. I am my life, I thought, approaching at last the bottom of the sea. It wasn't the bottom. It wasn't the sea. So this poem is structured as a free verse poem, no rhyme scheme, and varying line lengths with lines often continuing from one line onto the next without terminal punctuation. This poem repeats the words hideous when referring to himself and the creatures that live in the sea and words using dark. These repeated words are some of the central topics of the poem. Paul Tran starts this poem by explaining the concept of bioluminescence, stating that even though the creatures that have this adaptation are ugly, the adaptation itself is beautiful. And then they apply this to themselves that they gave up beauty to have a glance at the eternal darkness. This beauty that they are talking about can be translated as the beauty of living a normal life and the glance of darkness that they talked about can be translated as being transgendered. Although the words a glance of eternal darkness sound like negative ones, to Paul Tran they are beautiful. And it is possible to infer that by using negative words to express something that they find beautiful, they are trying to show that other people view transgendered people as bad and ugly, even though it can be beautiful. Paul Tran then goes on to say that they kept swimming, even though they were swimming towards somewhere so far away from the rest of life. It can be inferred that swimming away from the rest of life is them continuing to lead the general public by becoming transgendered. They also talk about how they have to become their own light and their own god in the harsh conditions and the dark underworld that is the sea. This shows a sense of resilience that even though in the rough environment of being transgendered they are able to become a light for themselves and believe in themselves, which is the most important thing, loving yourself for who you are. The harsh conditions are a parallel into the real world because you need to adapt to survive when the environment can be hostile or unwelcoming. They end the poem by saying two main things, the first one is I am my life, once again this is them realizing that they are their own power and themself is all that matters. The second thing is they say it wasn't the bottom, it wasn't the sea, this tells the reader that all of this poem was talking about his transgender experience, not about life at the bottom of the sea. Overall this poem explores the parallels between the real life experiences of being transgendered and the lives of deep sea fish. The amount of resilience shown by Paul Tran in this poem is truly admirable. Bioluminescence by Paul Tran There is a dark, so deep beneath the sea, the creatures beget their own light. On his feet this act of adaptation I could say is beautiful though the creatures are hideous. Lantern fish, hatchet fish, viper fish, I not unlike them forfeited beauty to glimpse the world hidden by eternal darkness. I subsisted on falling matter, unaware from where or why matter fell, and on weaker creatures beguiled by my luminosity. My hideous face opening suddenly to take them into a darkness darker and more eternal than this underworld underwater. I swam and swam toward nowhere and nothing. I after so much isolation, so much indifference, kept going, even if going meant only waiting, hovering in place. So far below, so far away from the rest of life, the terrestrial made possible by and thereby sustained upon life. I did what I had to do, I stopped, I killed, I wanted to feel in my body, my body at work, working to stay alive. I swam, I kept going, I waited, I found myself without meaning to, without contriving a meaning at the time, in time, in the company of creatures who, hideous like me, had to be their own illumination, their own god, their own genesis. Often we feuded, often we fused, like anglerfish, blood to blood, desire to desire, we were wild, bewildered, beautiful, in our own wilderness and wildness. In the most extreme conditions, we proved that life can exist. I exist, I am my life, I thought, approaching at last the bottom of the sea. It wasn't the bottom, it wasn't the sea.