They Call Me Mafi...


To fine for my description, yet woody remarks

captures a glimpse of my innocents they call an image.

I figure the compression releases its pressure on my trigger,

as I slowly drift away on my one-piece hitter.

Buff in size, yet feared in deception;

I guess my height has left a different impression.

I turned my back on my stature,

as a man renders my possessions;

yet in fact I’m an artist stolen from his collections.



As the black ink runs down the paper

describing my treasure of affections,

I’m a pioneer in words meant to teach lessons.

Yet one touch of my connection, will leave you wanting more prescriptions.

I’m like a bucket list that never stops wanting,

as my shades of color fade due to time;

I collect the compassion of intellectual minds.

Yet see my figures of speech are worst than life’s expectations,

because the snow melts while leaving

behind the impression of incompletion; so I remodel and relabeled

the color white as a unlimited supply of creations.



See my poetic gifts were missing a title,

a name to leave behind my claim on its distinction.

So I reframed and redefine an image that was

used for its insecurity of its impurities,

only to see a name meant for mythology; I disguised myself as Mafi.

Now fear is nothing without deaths consumption,

but I’m a man without fear of the truth;

I see clearly what must be done to be a

role model that must be questioned.

Yet see I have no answers to

your questions as you ring my doorbell,

because I’m a legend left decades in man’s wrath, in man’s image,

and their infections of their confections.

As time goes on, my words will be the only significant impressions to your homicidal corruptions.



They call me Mafi,

a whisper that only can be listened to:

yet can’t be answered or questioned…            


Mafi Grey

Comment as much as you like, ask questions if you want, and I send others to read. Comments helps me become inspired to do more pieces like this and like so many others, I have been inspired by a fan who wrote a comment; which helped me make another beauiful piece as seen above. 


How do you do it? These pieces are amazing and I feel like the amature that I am when looking at the intricate word characterization and the composition of the stanzas! Oh how i wish i could be this good!! Amazing work keep it up!!!!

Mafi Grey

Thank you and sometimes I think to myself and wonder how I do it too. I mean I realize when I'm writing that it's really good, but sometimes the way I think is the biggest question when I'm doing my pieces of work. Maybe it's because instead of thinking inside the box or outside of it, I think of the box as a component; as a tool that belongs to a bigger picture. I see pass the limitations of what thoughts are, I express myself when I need to instead of waiting to be exposed to things. I used my blank canvas as my battle grounds, as a way to obliterate my emotions or my thoughts and to questioning reality and how I view it. The biggest thing to being good is to actually write what your thinking and to not think about what someone will say. I'm a painting hanging in a gallery as everyone stares and wonders what I'm. They question the painter, the artist who drew me, who painted me, who thought of me, who made me an creation of his emotions and fears, his guilt, his pain, and his dreams. I'm not the pen or the paper, I'm the canvas. This is also another way of thinking inside of the box and out of it. The paper is the box and the pen is the outside questions that linger on the paper trying to get in. Yet I'm the table that holds the pen and the paper up. This could help you if you think like this when u write.


Wow this amazing...I really like your description of yourself while using references easy for people to understand

Mafi Grey

Thank you. I really enjoy hearing people say I can do what I knew I could do all along. I been writing for a long time, with paper or pen or either what I do. You don't always have to be a poet with words, because action speaks louder than words. Now that I have been heard, I won't be silence anymore: I won't keep my telants hiding away from peoples reach. I will now let those see me for who I am, instead of showng them what I'm cleary not.

Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression. Always let poetry fill your life. Keep expressing your heart.  

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741