Tonight I finished a poem that has been floating around in my head and scrawled in bits across my journals for last few months. (I'm not posting it here so don't ask. If you want to read it, you'll have to do it the old fashioned way -- on a piece of paper I hand to you.)
I think it's good, but it's a poem so really, who can say? It is what it is and the best that I can hope is that it runs up to someone else and sucker-punches them in the gut. Writing poetry is rather like being the proud parent of budding bullies.
It's always a good feeling, finishing a poem, or a story, or an anything, really. It's a good feeling when you accomplish something that you feel is your thing to do. As Ted Brautigan said, "To be homesick is human, but to Break is divine." And if you don't know what @#$% I'm talking about you need to read more.