Sylvia Plath, Still Singing
Art, mental illness, the ache of perception
By: The Lace Ledger Staff
Some poetry doesn’t age because it never belonged to its moment of conception.
Sylvia Plath wrote from a place that continues to feel familiar to anyone who has lived inside their own mind for too long.
Her work sits at the intersection of brilliance and fragility, without ever asking the reader to choose between them.
The Anatomy of Grief: An Analogy Through Poetry on Día de los Muertos
Loss reshapes the self.
This piece, by Meara Simone, explores grief through poetry, bilingual expression and the sacred ritual of
Dia de los Muertos, a time when the the veil thins and memory becomes a bridge.