a butterfly solar light for frank wolfe's grave at fernwood cemetery.

back in 2014, i bought a solar butterfly light to put in the ground at frank's grave at fernwood cemetery in royersford. i had it in the trunk of my car all of the time and kept meaning to get to the cemetery, yet being too busy to live across many jobs and the rest of life meant my goal didn't happen as planned. 

but a few months ago, i finally took the light out of my car and set it up to test it out, hoping to get to the cemetery soon afterward. i found out right away, in the dark of autumn and winter, that the light is so comforting and lifts my energy upward on hard days. it automatically knocks my stress down a good bit when i see it. and i realize this is because it reminds me of frank and that life shouldn't be as hard as it often feels, it's beautiful, it's inspiring, and it reminds me of my mom, too, who died when i was 20 and absolutely loved butterflies.

a few months before we lost frank in the physically typical sense, he told me he wanted to paint a picture of my mom. he knew i missed her very much and that she was the only parent i ever had. i gave him a copy of the photograph of her below as a little girl, which means the world to me, and i find it so beautiful. soon afterward, frank translated it into a painted form, which you can see below the photograph.

frank also said that he felt curiously connected to my mom as he painted her, in some unique, different kind of way, and he never met her because she died before i met him. i also never heard him comment anything like this with other portraits and people. 

it is said that butterflies carry messages to the other side. i've always felt that frank and my mom are more connected now in a way they couldn't be as much in our more dense realm. and the tie-in of butterflies here helps my heart. i hope the butterfly solar light eye-scene does the same for you as you read these words. i do plan to finally take it to the cemetery, but i'm also considering buying another one and keeping the original in my yard because of  the comforting, good feelings it stirs when i glimpse it at night, especially in the cold of winter, when it's surprisingly still full of energy to be lit even as we hardly have much sun across these weeks.

videos from the third annual memorial open mic for frank wolfe—october 5, 2017.

here are some video clips from the the third annual memorial open mic for frank wolfe at steel city coffee house in phoenixville back in october 2017. thank you to everyone who attended, contributed, appreciated it from the audience, and helped to make the event something frank would love and be so grateful for across all of its minutes on a thursday night.

and here is a video of the pain words and the fire we do each year at the end of the night.

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.