[Carl Copeland]

Jim, I love rhyme and don’t mind a dash of archaism, but my dummed-down modern head lacks the patience and navigation skills needed for this poem. After reading the first sentence several times slowly, I decided it must mean something like “Worry won’t get you anywhere if you’re not willing to use your head.” I don’t think I can even paraphrase the second sentence—especially the bit about asking the gods to believe.

In the third sentence, I guess a poet who’s always been too cowardly to rhyme is being urged to rhyme boldly in the face of all those who disapprove of the practice. For L9-10, I’d suggest:

When, all your musing days, you’ve not been brave (or When, all your days, you’ve never once been brave)
and soon must burn or molder in the grave,

I’d also replace the ellipsis with a colon. Ellipses usually stand in for something left out, while colons are right-pointing arrows.

[R. Nemo Hill]

What Carl says is important. Using rhyme in a didactic poem like this necessitates that one's argument be as crystal clear as the rhymes. In fact, trying to put one's abstract thoughts on a subject into rhyme is a great way to learn if one has any clear idea of what one wants to say. Most often, the argument melts into nothing, or it gets tangled up in impenetrable lexical knots. For me, both those things happen here. A lot of breath is expanded to say something negligible; while the constructions employed, when closely studied, are fruitlessly intricate. Alexander Pope made it look easy, but it is not. At their best, such lines can cut through verbiage with a revelation enhanced by the sparkle of their rhymes. At their worst, they merely enlighten one to the fact that one doesn't really know what one is talking about. Subsequent comments of yours, Jim, like—"rhymers should accept on faith that their verse is superior to the alternative of free verse because few in the world of poetry now do"—convince me of the latter.

Sorry, but I think this is a complete train-wreck, from start to finish. The "patience and navigation skills" that Carl over-generously laments that he lacks, well, they should be the province of the poet not the reader.
A tone of archaic authority is no substitute for timeless clarity of thought.

Nemo

[Chris O'Carroll]

When want of will and dearth of cause constrain to keep ideas and words outside the brain, you're in danger of writing the garbled metaphors of the next two lines, and of ending up with what Nemo rightly calls this whole train-wreck of a poem. The poem tells that rhyme is good, but fails to show it being used skillfully.

"soon must choose to burn or rot in grave" may be the most egregious example of awkward diction in the poem, although "frame your formless thoughts in squares of mind" is exquisitely meaningless, and the traipse/faith rhyme calls attention to its own awfulness when it's offered as an example of truly lit poetic wit.

[Nick McRae]

Originally Posted by R. Nemo Hill

What Carl says is important. Using rhyme in a didactic poem like this necessitates that one's argument be as crystal clear as the rhymes. In fact, trying to put one's abstract thoughts on a subject into rhyme is a great way to learn if one has any clear idea of what one wants to say. Most often, the argument melts into nothing, or it gets tangled up in impenetrable lexical knots. For me, both those things happen here. A lot of breath is expanded to say something negligible; while the constructions employed, when closely studied, are fruitlessly intricate. Alexander Pope made it look easy, but it is not. At their best, such lines can cut through verbiage with a revelation enhanced by the sparkle of their rhymes. At their worst, they merely enlighten one to the fact that one doesn't really know what one is talking about. Subsequent comments of yours, Jim, like—"rhymers should accept on faith that their verse is superior to the alternative of free verse because few in the world of poetry now do"—convince me of the latter.

This is a great explanation.

I wouldn't throw the baby out with the bathwater, though, there are elements of this poem I enjoyed. To get more specific here are a few phrases I thought could use some improvement (which re-iterates how hard this poem is to get right):

When want of will and dearth of cause constrain
to keep ideas and words outside the brain,
a map of worry cannot sidestep strife
or set a course to fill the sails of life.
Don’t blame some lack of love from mortal kind,
or frame your formless thoughts in squares of mind,
to make excuse for failure to perceive
when asking gods themselves to please believe.
When, all your musing days, not once you’re brave,
when, soon must choose to burn or rot in grave,
now take the bolder path, the bolder traipse—
this truth, above the rest, accept with faith…
that through the toughest tests and hardest times,
those poets truly lit have writ in rhymes.

A few months ago when I was asking about meter I spent an hour or so attempting to write a poem in a similar style (didactic, rhymed), and it was quickly obvious to me how hard it was to pull off well.

And that's the kicker, a writer needs to be able to give their own poem a critical eye. If it's not done, it's just not done. To me this poem is about 80% done, but as Nemo mentioned the thesis might be another issue.

What worked for me were the elements that retained the old-school, traditional style, but when they were mixed with words like 'brain' and 'truly lit' it created a facetious tone that made me think the poem wasn't actually being taken seriously.

But then, maybe the irony's getting lost on me too.