Tag Archives: heart

Using form: Helena Nelson, ‘Post-NSTEMI, as prescribed’

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We want your heart to function at its best.
Bisoprolol’s a helpful little pill (lol)
and aspirin’s a friend. You’re less impressed,
it seems, by side-effects of Ramipril
but the cough may pass. Any chesty pains?
Squirt GTN under your tongue. It’s droll
how nitro-glycerin expands the veins
and arteries. As for Lansoprazole,
undoubtedly protecting your digestion
from anti-platelets such as Prasugrel,
yes, take it. Eplerenone is my suggestion
as best antagonist. Won’t you pop that in,
O protagonist? And zap LDL
for sure before you snore—Atorvastatin.

*****

Helena Nelson writes: “After a heart attack, I was fitted with a stent in one cardiac artery and prescribed eight drugs, though one was optional (the GTN spray) and another only for the first six months (Prasugrel). I struggled to remember their names and purposes, so I put them in a sonnet, and as much about them as I could manage. LDL is so-called ‘bad cholesterol’. Bisoprolol is a beta-blocker and helps regulate blood pressure. Eplerenone is an aldosterone antagonist (this supposedly helps keep the heart muscle in shape). Make of that what you will. As they say on FaceBook, ‘it’s complicated’.”

Helena Nelson runs HappenStance Press (now winding down) and also writes poems. Her most recent collection is Pearls (The Complete Mr and Mrs Philpott Poems). She reviews widely and is Consulting Editor for The Friday Poem.

Illustration: “San Antonio Dr. Julio Palmaz and Schatz invent balloon expandable heart stent” by gunaxi is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

Sonnet: Amit Majmudar, ‘Homing’

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My parents stacked the best years of their youth as
Bricks to build me. Taught me words I taught
Myself to shout them down with when we fought.
My parents loved me, though I could be ruthless
Hurting myself with things I poured or burned
And those who loved me with the things I said.
My parents never gloated once I learned,
Just held me through my sobs, and kissed my head.

Now, in the living room I stormed out of,
They tell me I can stay the month, or year,
Because my room will never not be here
No matter where I go, or who I love.
I am their blood, they tell me. I depart
From them as blood does from a beating heart.

*****

Amit Majmudar writes: “A homing pigeon knows where its home is by training, as the falcon knows the falconer’s arm. But there are deeper instincts at work in nature that science still struggles to explain fully, like the way birds know how to migrate by looking at the stars, and the way monarch butterflies find their way to the same vast swath of oyamel trees in Mexico every year. Human beings have something of that in them. Not just for the neighborhoods where we grew up, but for the people, the family, who were there with us. This poem is about that. I distinctly recall its writing; I woke up at the “witching hour,” as I often do, while visiting my sister-in-law’s house in Texas over Christmas break. Ten family members were asleep in the same house, and, unable to fall back asleep, I picked up my phone and found an invitation to submit to a new sonnet journal in my inbox. Immediately, still in the awoken, excited, “witching hour” state (which the Indian tradition calls the Hour of Brahma, the time of peak creativity), I wrote this poem about the bond between the far-afield child and the fixed star of family, first line to last.”

‘Homing’ was just published in The Sonneteer which can be accessed at thesonneteer@substack.com. It offers a free, partial service as well as an upgraded paid subscription.

Amit Majmudar’s recent books include Twin A: A Memoir (Slant Books, 2023), The Great Game: Essays on Poetics (Acre Books, 2024), and the hybrid work Three Metamorphoses (Orison Books, 2025). More information about his novels and poetry collections can be found at www.amitmajmudar.com.

““There are many things in life that will catch your eye, but only a few will catch your heart…pursue those.”~Michael Nolan” by katerha is licensed under CC BY 2.0.