stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 19731
    [post_author] => 23
    [post_date] => 2018-12-19 16:35:11
    [post_date_gmt] => 2018-12-19 16:35:11
    [post_content] => Germany’s war was waged, we had to make it ours.
It began then, an almost park given to us: a façade
of what it was not, Huts, a family of a hundred
hundred people to trust secrets to;

                          we began in quiet

and voice never defied us in six – many – years;
the war, at times, did.
In love letters they told us the sites of rendezvous:
every morning, codes that could never be broken;
nights, with those going nowhere:

                          days, bided away

in uniforms and discipline, by tables – laden with
sheets, and codes, and messages, and more codes –
and by people, from everywhere, with dancesteps
and pints – with more codes; even dances made up
of Roman numerals:

                          Bletchley was home; home

had alienated: we danced with people never looking
at them, they never knew where we learnt those steps.
The place wasn’t made up of words anymore, we
preferred silence; the death of a dog on the street was
hardly anyone’s concern – we had been busy
counting humans.

                          On the radio, Churchill:

We shall go on to the end … we shall never
surrender. In the Huts, we knew that people died –
and that wouldn’t be in vain.
Swimmers had been killing the mermaids, but then,
Turing in Hut 8 had been successful in decrypting
the naval Enigma messages; –

                          the Germans didn’t know

soon, then it changed to Tunny ciphers. Another
year, the answers were found again.
We had been working for the end; it took some
time, but it had begun.
    [post_title] => From Bletchley With Love
    [post_excerpt] => 
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => closed
    [ping_status] => closed
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => from-bletchley-with-love
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
    [post_modified] => 2021-11-11 15:24:47
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2021-11-11 15:24:47
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => http://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=19731
    [menu_order] => 0
    [post_type] => poems
    [post_mime_type] => 
    [comment_count] => 0
    [filter] => raw
    [meta_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 2018
            [wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is the third-prize winner in the Bletchley Park poetry challenge on Young Poets Network (YPN).

So Mayer, who wrote and judged the challenge, said, “Written in a quicksilver voice that speaks collectively for the many who worked at the Park, this poem samples the oral histories collected by the museum to create a living tapestry dense with the intensity of the work undertaken and how it fed and bled into extra-curricular pastimes, and how the pressure of secrecy continues to shape Bletchley’s narrative.”
            [wpcf-rights-information] => 
            [wpcf-poem-award] => 3rd prize, Bletchley Park challenge
            [wpcf_pr_belongs] => 
        )

    [poet_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [ID] => 19733
            [forename] => 
            [surname] => 
            [title] => Jayant Kashyap
            [slug] => jayant-kashyap
            [content] => 

Jayant is the second-prize winner in the Poems to Solve the Climate Crisis Challenge on Young Poets Network, created in partnership with People Need Nature and judged by Louisa Adjoa Parker. He is also the third-prize winner in the Bletchley Park challenge. Jayant is commended in August Challenge #3: Inanimate Objects, Do You Have A Soul? on Young Poets Network in 2021, set and judged by Foyle Young Poet Euan Sinclair; in the 2021 poetry translation challenge with Modern Poetry in Translation, judged by Clare Pollard; in the tree poetry challenge; in the fourth Bloodaxe Archive challenge, Take Note; and in August Challenge #1: Re-mixing History, Fiction and the Unexpected.

) )
stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 19733
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Jayant Kashyap
    [slug] => jayant-kashyap
    [content] => 

Jayant is the second-prize winner in the Poems to Solve the Climate Crisis Challenge on Young Poets Network, created in partnership with People Need Nature and judged by Louisa Adjoa Parker. He is also the third-prize winner in the Bletchley Park challenge. Jayant is commended in August Challenge #3: Inanimate Objects, Do You Have A Soul? on Young Poets Network in 2021, set and judged by Foyle Young Poet Euan Sinclair; in the 2021 poetry translation challenge with Modern Poetry in Translation, judged by Clare Pollard; in the tree poetry challenge; in the fourth Bloodaxe Archive challenge, Take Note; and in August Challenge #1: Re-mixing History, Fiction and the Unexpected.

)

From Bletchley With Love

Jayant Kashyap

Germany’s war was waged, we had to make it ours.
It began then, an almost park given to us: a façade
of what it was not, Huts, a family of a hundred
hundred people to trust secrets to;

                          we began in quiet

and voice never defied us in six – many – years;
the war, at times, did.
In love letters they told us the sites of rendezvous:
every morning, codes that could never be broken;
nights, with those going nowhere:

                          days, bided away

in uniforms and discipline, by tables – laden with
sheets, and codes, and messages, and more codes –
and by people, from everywhere, with dancesteps
and pints – with more codes; even dances made up
of Roman numerals:

                          Bletchley was home; home

had alienated: we danced with people never looking
at them, they never knew where we learnt those steps.
The place wasn’t made up of words anymore, we
preferred silence; the death of a dog on the street was
hardly anyone’s concern – we had been busy
counting humans.

                          On the radio, Churchill:

We shall go on to the end … we shall never
surrender. In the Huts, we knew that people died –
and that wouldn’t be in vain.
Swimmers had been killing the mermaids, but then,
Turing in Hut 8 had been successful in decrypting
the naval Enigma messages; –

                          the Germans didn’t know

soon, then it changed to Tunny ciphers. Another
year, the answers were found again.
We had been working for the end; it took some
time, but it had begun.