pete grauer reads some poems by frank wolfe during the 2016 memorial open mic for frank. tahhhh dahhhh. good stuff.

here, pete grauer reads poems by frank wolfe at the second annual memorial open mic for frank in 2016. feel free to clap at home, everybody. it is a nice set of words, admittedly.

remember to be at the third annual memorial open mic (2017, ohhh snap) for frank at steel city coffee house in phoenixville on thursday, october 5 at 7 p.m., with sign-ups at 6.30 p.m.

2017: the third annual memorial open mic for frank wolfe at steel city coffee house.

the third annual memorial open mic for frank wolfe at steel city coffee house in phoenixville is now set. (*dances*)

the date for the event will be thursday, october 5 from 7 p.m. to 10 p.m.

open mic sign-ups will start at 6.30 p.m.

please mark your calendars now if you would like to attend and think you can make it. nettie wolfe silva will be creating an event officially for this on facebook probably sometime in august.

for anyone who can definitely attend and knows sooner, please RSVP and let me know so i can get a list going: poetrywithjenniferhetrick at yahoo dot com.

there will be no cost, but we're asking for donations from those who can afford to help out and thank steel city coffee house staff for hosting the event. just like last year. a community-hugging, pro-artist-supporting approach.

and like in the past, even those who did not know or meet frank are welcome to be a part of the open mic, too. we just ask that you have the bravery to talk (or sing, recite, etc.) about your own struggles and beauty in life, as we know frank would appreciate this because it is important for all of us. and we'll see about doing our fire words at the end, too. if you don't know what that means, you'll probably love it. ohhh the anticipation.

bring frank's paintings to share around the room as well, if you like.

thanks again to everyone for your support for this event in 2016. feel free to pass this proverbial word on to anyone who might appreciate hearing about this event for 2017.

and remember that anyone is welcome to submit poems, stories, photographs of paintings, pictures of frank or anything he loved, his jokes, or other reflections relating to life, if you'd like them to be featured on this blog and its corresponding facebook page.

please also reach out here if you'd like to be added to the email list to receive these updates as they're ready to go.

"my friend frankie," a creative nonfiction essay by ruth z. deming.

frank wolfe's good friend ruth z. deming recently had a creative nonfiction essay about him published online in a magazine called kaleidoscope. 

page 47 shows ruth's feature under the creative nonfiction section in issue 75. her essay is called "my friend frankie." it references steel city coffee house in phoenixville, too.

what got done today by frank kelso wolfe.

this poem about everyday life, but carved much deeper at a heart-level through the industrious way of particular thought and language, is one by frank wolfe which often rises up in me. he wrote it on august 1, 2014. i may even re-post it with new photography of some scenes from it in the future, to keep it alive and moving onward in people's knowledge, in this world. 

the last line sticks with me most, understandably, as i love the tangibly felt labor of cutting green blades in the yard with my antique mower. and it hits right smack into the middle of the reality of things, that even poets are sometimes out mowing because some aren't overflowing with dollars upon dollars enough to pay someone else to do it, or some just want that physicality for themselves.

what got done today
by frank kelso wolfe

with the sun blazing in dubai

construction workers built a mirrored tower

and wiped adam's sweat from their brows.

a child in detroit dug through a dumpster

and smiled at his luck when he found

a half eaten happy meal and three cigarettes.

two red haired neo-hippie chicks

skipped their health class and instead

went for ice cream: rum raisin and strawberry.

all the monks in a mid montana monastery

planted acres of snap peas

and silently prayed for the salvation of mankind.

nan went to the new grocery store in beijing 

and loaded her cart with organic vegetables

while hawks flew circles over mounds of e-waste.

every single living human being breathed

many smiled and had clean water to drink

and poets mowed the lawn because they had to.

a poem for frank wolfe: song of the bones between femurs and shins.

i wrote this poem today probably quicker than i've written any poem in the history of my life. it is hard to believe anything but that frank had something to do with it.

song of the bones between femurs and shins
by jennifer hetrick

when a good friend dies, you hold
your knees tightly together in front
of you, hugging them to your chest.

you tell yourself you're hugging
the friend, his heart, the exact
part of his body which hit hard

pavement first when he jumped out
of his third floor window on that
widest road in royersford, church

street. you hold your knees because
you know his had knives in them,
and the doctors were tired of his

complaints about the jagged, fierce
pain. you hold your knees because
it is a way you can send him your

love, from this heavy realm all
the way to the other side, although,
it is not as far from us as we think.

*

and here is a photograph i found, which frank took, of him holding a flashlight almost out of view in his hand, sitting on one of his knees.

remember, friends and even those who did not know frank but are inspired by him are welcome to submit poems, stories, jokes, paintings, and other forms of art for posting here. you are welcome to email them to me any day throughout the year: poetrywithjenniferhetrick at yahoo dot com via poetrywithjenniferhetrick.blogspot.com.

someday, a poem by frank kelso wolfe.

below is a poem written by frank wolfe just 3 days before he gave up living for only light. it is dated october 4, 2014. he wrote it for a family friend, richard fulmer.

it may resonate through the want of warmer seasons, as we have less sunshine in winter months. and it may resonate just because it is meant to, as you peel your way down the page to read these words.

someday
by frank kelso wolfe

through our kitchen window

the evening sun glows on the basket of fruit

and my tears are drying.

i feel my body

and hear the forever constant hum

of the refrigerator

and my thoughts.


over the phone we just played

a serious game of basketball

in your driveway

when we were young enough to love each other

with bumps and sweat.


now we walk in the autumn of things

and the cruelty and kindness

is seeing through the glass

and wishing you could hold someone or something

so tight that time stops


but the sun has set

so i get up and close the curtains

and know that someday

we'll all be dead.


that's not how i'd like to end this poem

but i can't think of anything else i'm so sure of.

and i love you.

if you would like to share any of your own writings or other kinds of art here, inspired by frank in some way, please email poetrywithjenniferhetrick@yahoo.com.