buzzing along we go: POEM

I recently went camping with my kids out on a friend’s property. The time away reminded me how much I both enjoy and fear human connection and that I need both company and periodical isolation to thrive.
While the kids were roaming around playing, I was able to get some writing in. Shockingly I liked the pieces that flowed out of me on that trip and have decided to share a little bit.

wait until the darkest night
when will hold each other tight
under the stars, everything will feel alright
feeling the flow of our chosen universe in the moonlight

take flight
my blackened knight
chase the rainbow
to claim your fourth right
as the blackened rose withers in plain sight
the demon doth take over the fight
and sends us all into the burning daylight

sprinkles of hope
riding on the waves of dopes
make losing the track a breeze
all the begging is lost
fate freezes the cost
who will rectify the breaking of thee

in green spaces now free
to begin the rebuilding of thee
one breath
one day
at a time
same dream
same sun
same work to be done
always on a loop
forever jumping the same hoops
time giving the shoots and roots
growing one limb at a time
spreading seeds and deeds
bending to nature’s needs
all while spinning around the sun

i need space
but i never get it anyplace
any time
any year
never
there’s always someone near

now came the fun police
gave them all my elbow grease
and never laid bare
to find them
a new day is done
can see more games left to run
thankfully the moon has kissed the sun
in memories, the dreams will now bind them

all is currently calm now
the morning has kissed us all somehow
and awoken to the sound of the breeze
as the engines rumble to life
photographs taken for memories might
hold it all so the energies can flow

running fast and walking slow
taking a spin around the track
learning new ways to know
go around the bog hole
not straight through
being covered in mud
is better than tasting blood
change down a gear
and here’s the power of you

it is called home brand
when you’ve taken what you want
and given what you can
send praise to the mother band
and hail the universe as mum
birthed in an ocean womb
at the end
is a dirt-filled tomb
life cycles as your wheels turn
life goes on as the fuel burns
so, ride as fast as you can
and ride as far out as you dare
breathe in the fast-flowing air
and feel that you are now free

the birds sing
then the engines ring
and the paddock sparks to life
the birds and the children take flight
parents preach as they try to teach it just right
practice and change gears
swallow all the fears
time for another joy ride

passions now read
dread filled thoughts now fled
buzzing along we go
weave through the trees
bending which way, they please
bounce and bend the knees
buzzing along we go
zigzag and rip up
slip and grip through the mud
holding on tight
tip the hips just right
buzzing along we go

Riot’s Redemption: a letter to you the reader

Hello Mum, aunties that read my blog, those of you who are still around from my #AusYAbloggers years, and anyone else who has stumbled across this post.
I hope that these words find you safe and healthy, something that is becoming increasingly harder to accomplish with the state of our world.

I recently felt the need to change my blog’s name, again, as the old title no longer sat well with me. I have moved away from book reviews for now and am planning on sharing more of my poetry and my wellness journey.


What is Riot’s Redemption you ask? Okay, you probably didn’t ask, but I’m going to tell you anyway.

As a child, there was always a part of me, the silly, free, creative part, the wild part that got me in trouble that I internally referred to as “IT”. IT was the unmasked core of myself. Sarah, the name I was given at birth became my mask’s name, and as Sarah, I tried my best to behave the way society saw fit. As I grew older my IT-ness got let out less and less, and I found myself wearing my Sarah mask 24/7. It nearly destroyed me, as in suppressed memories and time in a psych ward destroy me. Along my neurodivergent journey from childhood to adulthood, I internally renamed myself from “IT” to “The Riot” because it’s always a mothering fucking Riot in my head. As I got older and learned more about the big bad world, I realised that I had always been Transgender and Queer as a sparkly rainbow cloud of LSD.

Little me had wanted to be a boy. Little me had wanted to live in the outback and run feral and free. Little me had wanted to sing and dance, tell stories, make people laugh, and own a farm.
I am still that little boy, but I am also now a mother of two. I want my children, both of whom like me are autistic with ADHD, to know the real me, not my mask. I cannot continue to open myself up and be authentic under the name of my mask. I want to walk in the world as Riot, and my blogging is included in that. So this is me taking my first steps.


I am going forward with the intention of working towards a creative writing degree.

I am going forward with the intention of being more present in my physical life and embracing people again, whereas I’ve spent the last five or so years of my life withdrawing further and further from society.
I am not quite sure yet what I physically will need to do to be able to sit comfortably in my own skin. But getting my fitness up to a level where I can take on all the hikes, I want to do with confidence seems like a good place to start. I’ve got a good friend that I refer to as my emotional support demon that is keen to be my gym buddy and help me in that regard. I have no desire to fully medically transition as I do not feel the need to be passable as male by society’s standards to be valid. Admittedly it causes me a great deal of mental fuckery that society sees me as a woman. But I have coping strategies to help with the noise in my head and the waves of gender dysphoria that drag me down at times. I’ve been trying to go for bush walks and put aside time to write and draw as much as possible, to let my mind run free, as letting my mind run free is one of the few things that enables me to then spend time in my skin.


If you’ve made it this far down the page, cheers to you! I guess I really just needed to send ^ that up into the ether and record it here as a way of kickstarting myself. So If you are interested in reading the words that come to me in daydreams and on bush walks then stick around. If not, no dramas, I know I’m not everyone’s favorite flavor of lolly.


To end this post today I’ll leave you with a photo of some flowers living their best life in the bush.