I'm worried this is going to turn into a bit of a chicken or egg scenario, but I think we're in agreement on this point. Metre, form, rhyme, symbolism, and phonetics are all theoretical until put into practice. That's self-explanatory. The theory is, in my opinion, what practice should rest on. Perhaps "must" was hyperbolic clumsiness, but I want to stress the importance of these things since it's something I sincerely believe in and something that was neglected in the other posts. At the very least the two should be worked with simultaneously — such that "writing poetry is going to help him learn to identify these elements." I've distinguished between the more basic theoretical features of poetry and more complicated ones that engender serious thought and discussion. Are you arguing that there are basic concepts that have not been codified? Could you give specific examples? I agree that no one's first anything is going to compare with Keats, or Shakespeare, or Beethoven, or Matisse, or the huge range of artists that you can no doubt come up with yourself. The point that I'm trying to make is that these great artists are examples of technical mastery as well as expression and that in them we can see that one shouldn't "cower from dissection and analysis"; there's a real pride in confronting these theoretical elements, that shouldn't be seen as "pseudery or exclusivity", head on.Until you actually try and sit down and write, all you have is theory.
There are many rules we don't learn until we break them, or whose intricacies we aren't aware of until we push the boundaries.
Fur Elise and Ophelia are finessed final products that were only created after and by mountains of experimentation and mistakes. I feel like saying that "poetry demands artistry" and pointing out these examples, you are elevating poetry to a very high standard that presents it as mostly inaccessible.
I do think we agree on more than it appeared to me at first sight. I am not arguing that there are basic concepts that have not been codified, but I am arguing that some concepts are more easier encountered via experimental writing (anaphora, hell iambic meter, for instance) and "discovery" for oneself than via studying text and then careful application. Sometimes it's easier to take a ride in the cart before trying to learn how to hitch the horse to it. What I mean is that while it may appear to be approaching things from the back end, experimental writing allows a writer to explore what feels "good" or "natural" to them without the bother or fuss of terms, "proper vs improper usage," etc. Instead of approaching writing or poetry from a mechanical angle (i.e., "Here is my tool. I know what it is called, how it is made, and how it should be used. Now let me apply my tool") I advocate for experimentation ("I need to move a rock. How should I do that? I could push it" tries pushing "Rock doesn't move much. What else can I use?" spies a stick "What if I put one end of the stick under the rock and pushed?" attempts; success The man doesn't know he's just used a lever to reach his goal but he's reached his goal and discovered something in the process. He doesn't know what a lever is. But he will probably try to repeat this method to various successes and failures until he learns how the lever works even though he doesn't know the physics behind it). I agree we shouldn't cower from dissection and analysis, but I certainly believe the use of these tools had its pitfalls that one typically encounters and it helps to be aware of.