Think of a ficus...or an orchid for that matter. Something
living, in need of certain things in order to take root, grow
and thrive. Think of language,and in particular, poetry as a living
thing that has specific requirements that vary from poem to poem.
Instinct will always serve you best when trying to decide where to
cut, how long to make a line, and where, and even if
there should be rhyme.

Do you need to let in some light in between ideas?
Should there be divided strophes, or does the poem want to run on
breathlessly without pause, tumbling over its own adjectives like
a happy child, unmindful of the degree of slope or the
possibility of crashing at the bottom.

Did you ever write a piece and re-read it later, perhaps the day
after and think: No. That's not it at all. I believe those are the
times you were trying to force the poem into a shape or a mood,
or form or tone it didn't need. Oftentimes, this is when the
poet is trying too hard to write a poem--and when
this happens, everything rings false.

The trick is to write for no one, write allowing the words
themselves to do the speaking, and get out of their way.
For the poet with a strong sense of rhythm, sonics, implicit
or imperfect rhyme, how much metaphor is just enough and
how much is preciously too much, the process more or less
happens by itself. Words know what demands they have.
What structure, or the lack of, shows them off
to their best advantage.

As with raising plants, what type of a plant is it?
Does it require oblique lighting, direct sun? How
much water does it need? How fluid must its
enviroment be?

Poems are the same way....are you growing an orchid (i.e.- a
tight formula for structure, such as a sestina or a sonnet)
or are you letting your 'Id' into it, taking any dark alleyway
or dirt road it wants. Is it a Prufrockian meandering of the
will beneath the mind that finds its own way, stumbling
toward whatever light it can find. Is the poem hungry?
Well then, let its belly growl so the reader hears it.
Perhaps the poem is a wonderful weed, showing up
in cracks of the pavement, giving forth a bit of
purple flowering nonetheless.

The true test of what the poem needs is in the re-
reading and what poems require most of all is time---
time and distance from the writing. Then let it speak,
and that voice is the true measure of its flowering and
by all means, pay no attention to critics who throw rules
at you. Writing maxims are guidelines only, not holy writ,
and what critiquers are often doing, is showing how much
they know- not what the poem is crying our for, so pay
them no heed. Treat each poem as a living thing,
then give it what's required. Trust yourself~
you'll know.