Twin Sister Poems | Examples
These Twin Sister poems are examples of Sister poems about Twin. These are the best examples of Sister Twin poems written by international poets.
My dream vacation is to drive to Iowa City
Where my identical twin lives; she is incredibly witty
I would leave my paints at home and sew with her
Our laughter would travel down the boulevard, sure.
We would spend the day eating goodies she cooks.
She can whip up cookies and pie without any books.
I love her food, it is sweet, tasty, crispy and good.
I would adore spending time with her, as I should.
We are older now, seventy-three last week actually.
Being with my twin is the best of the best, factually.
We share the same face, same hair, and same laugh.
Do we agree on politics? Not by half.
But we love each other, enough not to speak of that.
I love animals and cannot keep that under my hat.
She does not like them at all but keeps this quiet.
Being with my twin is always a riot.
my car rarely leaves the driveway since I retired one year ago today
She drove four hundred miles on Wednesday
Another four hundred miles this morning
That is six hundred and fifty miles more than she’s driven in six months
It was worth it
I got to celebrate my birthday with my identical twin.
I live in Kansas City, Kansas
She lives in Iowa City, Iowa
It is not an easy trip.
But worth it.
JESSICA DAWN NWAD ACISSEJ
Jesting with shadows, A twin's eerie grin,
Echos of laughter where the black cat has been.
Skeletons waltz by the dim candlelight,
Sister, you are the one who loves the dark of the night.
In a dance macabre, with bony, tapping toes,
Chaos and humor wherever you go.
Always a joke, a morbid, whispered rhyme,
Darkness falls heavy, we've outlasted all time.
As twin souls twined in this haunted design,
Whispers and shadows our playful domain.
Never a moment without a joke, and a little bit of pain.
Numbness steals the laughter from the cold, still air.
Watching the black cat's shadow creep with care,
All the playful skeletons now return to their rest.
Darkness waits, as a new night puts us to the test,
As twin souls, our mirth is kept in a cage.
Cold moonlight turns another haunted page.
In the silence, our jokes are a forgotten dream.
Still, we are bound by this eternal scheme.
Sister, our dance will continue past all time.
Endlessly in this graveyard, our ghostly mime.
Jesting with shadows, our hearts beat a slow rhyme.
In the years, I’ve walked this earth,
Half spent in service, a self-testament to worth.
Through war and peace, I stood my ground,
After combat tours, where courage was found.
Family tragedies left scars so deep,
Murders that haunted my nights without sleep.
Conditioned to march through conflict no matter the haze.
Immune to the impact, I find the warmth of a familiar place.
When Tornados swept through, tearing apart my dreams,
I always heal from own quiet streams.
Oh Angela, this month has been the hardest to bear,
Smothering, choking, and gasping for air.
I miss you so deeply; it’s a wound that won’t heal.
Like losing my breath in an ocean so wide,
I struggle to breathe with this pain deep inside.
I fight to contain all these feelings I hold,
Yet thoughts of Shane and your babies unfold.
Never once did twins need words to convey,
The bond that we shared in our own special way.
Now there’s a void in my spirit so vast,
A painful chasm unfilled by memories past.
Mendy and Nancy are twin sisters
With slight difference at each other
Mendy is quite dark and taller
Nancy is white and height’s shorter
They share things and toys together.
Girls clip roses on their curly hair
Wear sweet smiles and dresses with such flair
Both enjoy drinking hot chocolate
After eating their foods on small plate
When they go to school, they’re never late.
Birthdays were always shared.
Two cakes sat mid-table,
‘Happy Birthday’ was sung
with two names instead of one.
I did not like being a twin,
having a sister the same age,
always being labeled more
as a composite, having
a shared identity, a part
instead of being a whole.
I felt as if I was diluted.
I did not like the fuss,
being different than the other
boys who blended seamlessly
together at school when I
was singled out. My sister
was the devout one,
unquestioning whilst I
was the opposite, the dark
shadow in contrast to her light.
My world was an unlit room.
It was so for most of our lives,
obedience versus rebellion,
extrovert versus introvert,
traditionalist versus radical,
she a lover of boundaries
whereas I busted far too many.
My sister has been dead now
for a decade. I miss her,
my dear twin,
the counterbalance to me.
Gemini
the twins
mercurial
creative
wildly enthusiastic
my identical twin and I
both dancing to our own flutes
born in May
living up to our star sign
in opposite directions
Sisters in looks only, but they shared a laugh.
It was witch-like, head-thrown-back, quite a gaff.
Their husbands did not see their twinship much anymore.
One lived in the Keys, the other near Mount Rushmore.
But when they got together they had such a great time!
They could finish each other’s sentences, sometimes in rhyme.
There is nothing like a sister, especially an identical twin.
Being together in solidarity was a comfort, truly a win.
I see the closet door and I hear the theme song to Shark.
Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo
The one they used to play on Saturday Night Live in the eighties.
You know the one.
I opened it once to take a photo.
Which I sent to my twin sister.
We were bemoaning our messy spots.
So we decided to have a little contest.
I took photos of this closet, and six hoarder piles in one bedroom.
Believe it or not, she sent me eight photos and hers were better.
Or worse depending on which way you are going competition wise.
Thanks Daddy, we both said. He loved keeping everything.
Whereas Mom was a minimalist. She had a rule.
Bring one new thing in, toss one old thing out.
She had no messes anywhere in the house
Except Daddy’s area. She could not control that.
Maybe it’s Mom’s fault, I think to myself.
She is the one that never let us have a mess.
Maybe we are still rebelling.
Anyway, I cannot face this closet yet.
This is the third year in a row it has been un-faceable
It would be nice to use a closet, just not this one.
I turn and take another peek. Is it still there?
Unfortunately yes. Who knows what lives inside.
I have rose gold hair my sister said.
What color is that? I asked. Is it red?
I was hoping it was not, for she is my twin.
Looking exactly alike all our life has not been a win.
It is like rose gold jewelry, if you have seen that.
Some came from North Dakota from the county Platt.
I had not seen it at all, but was relieved to find
That her rose gold hair looked nothing like mine.
tell me how you feel inside.
because time is silent again.
and you need to let go.
let go of a past that does not exist.
sway with him
(sway with you, sweet girl)
into the lavender foyer of dreamtime.
burry your father
still living
still loving
still breathing hot beer breath into your face all through the night
still ripping and eating your flesh with this crooked bottle-cap teeth
burry your mother
still living
still loving
still laying sticky and fearful under your twin bed as the old man creeps down the stairs
still howling like a dog at the moonless sky
burry your sister
still living
still loving
still pulling a gun out from under her Sunday best
still trapped with you in a tangled embrace that could be easily misunderstood.
cry into the shower drain because somebody closed your bedroom window.
cry into the shower drain because the vacuum doesn’t work.
cry into the shower drain because there are bugs pouring from your book shelf, from your closet, from your eyes and ears and mouth and nose.
tell me how you feel inside.
for time is silent again.
To say my twin sister Carolyn is lucky is an understatement.
She had a broken C-2 that had to be fixed.
Dr. Kawakaki from Iowa City put rods in her neck.
She had a physical occupational appointment yesterday.
Doctor read fifty-two pages on her before she arrived.
Doctor said “I know this might be morbid, but I have to tell you…
The only people I have met with a broken C-2 were either
On a ventilator, paralyzed, or dead.”
My sister was astounded.
She is walking, driving, making a quilt, and hosting Christmas.
The doctor asked “How long were you in the hospital?”
My sister was in recovery at 9:30 p.m. on a Wednesday.
She was in the car ready to go home by noon on Thursday.
My sister said “I am glad I had such a great surgeon.”
I said “And tens of thousands of people were praying for you too."
My twin sister Carolyn is wildly creative.
She has made me a Lucille Ball purse.
It is fabulous; I love it!
There is a cartoon montage of Lucy all over it.
Many recognizable faces on various episodes of I Love Lucy.
I carried it around to several stores today.
Strangers begged to know where I got it.
I could have set up shop and sold these.
It’s a computer bag, not a purse my sister told me when I called her.
I smiled at the predictability of my twin.
a text
2 a.m.
Are you awake?
A sister can do this
A twin
Fame and fortune
she did not seek
For she was humble
she stayed meek
Her twin brother
chased a star
That did her brother's
life devour
So, please adopt
his sister’s view
Let fame and fortune
~ come to you