About | M Renae Dubois Poet

Born in Brisbane into a Salvation Army family, I was brought up from the age of 3 in the Baptist Church, with it's 80s evangelical overtones. A very boring, though I suspect not entirely untypical middle class suburban existence.
My father was a musician of 30+ years in the state orchestra, and influenced my creative side, as well as my intellectual curiosity and entrepreneurial capacities.
I read voraciously as a child and teen, planning on achieving postgraduate qualifications in my life, but both my peculiarities and my head injury at 16 put a new path in front of me, and I took it.
The head injury was a frontal lobe injury by a head on collision, our car with a truck in a mountainous area an hour or so out of town. I was put in an induced coma for some days to heal. I was discharged about a month later and was given no indication of possible side effects of head injury. When I went to get a cast on my arm (which had been broken in the accident and then screwed together in surgery), they told me I might get headaches.
The injury actually gave me a new personality, and a compulsive drive. I didnt know what exactly I wanted, but I was going to get it. This is what I have written about. My biographies trace not only my life path, but the development of my creative technique, as well as my philosophical outlook.
My book: An Encounter: Poetry, Existentialism, released May 2026, takes my perspective and experience to an intellectual level, applying what I have learned experientially to my new studies in the philosophical areas of Existentialism, Phenomenology, and Absurdity. The result is a dialectic poetic debate both with the proponents of the theories, and with myself.
The biographical books - Curses of Verses : A Composite, and Wreck : A Reckoning, would be great for anyone who's interested in psychology, head injury, sex work, addiction, identity and loss.
Undeservingly perhaps, these days, I live a good life. I have lived through loss, abuse, both to and from myself, love, rejection, passion and contempt. But I am not drowned by feelings of trauma or consider my experiences a survival. I have some regrets, of course.
When I can, I stop, breathe. Let the spirits in to check it all out. But maybe they can already see. It's just nice to look around with wonder.