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Turing1

Whatever the weather, he’s there every day,
Refusing to budge but with nothing to say,
He sits in his park with a space either side,
On his bench nothing moves him, wind, rain or shine.

He holds out his lunch with an outstretched arm,
Maybe not even knowing the harm,
As he looks at his apple, should he take his first bite?
Pondering daily and all through the night.

Cast out of bronze in Sackville Park,
Frozen forever from dusk until dark,
In solitary silence and out on a limb,
Stuck in the moment just before-it took him.

Did they not care that you were one of our geniuses?
An expert in maths and cryptanalysis,
You invented the bombe and couldn’t do more,
To crack The Engima and help end the war.

But that didn’t matter; they’d still make you pay,
They came to arrest you just because you were gay,
Why did they do it, were their minds so small?
To punish a war hero who helped end it all.

Your inventions didn’t count, and this is the sickener,
They punished a man who helped bring down Hitler,
Who was it that decided to treat you that way?
Imprisonment or hormones, just because you were gay.

Today it sounds crazy, so stupid and wrong,
That you weren’t worshipped all your life long,
Just forty one on the day that you died
But who coated your apple in cyanide?

You laid the foundations for our computer world,
And still your fingers round that apple are curled,
Is it a tribute to you, I wonder then grapple,
That MACs became known round the world just as ‘apple.’

One wonders what inventions were still to be born,
From your genius mind, if they hadn’t poured scorn,
On a life choice that is- quite normal today,
You’re an adopted Manc hero, yep, that’s fair to say.

So sit next to Alan on his Sackville Park bench,
And imagine your granddad in a war time trench,
Imagine his joy when the news broke through,
That because of our Alan they knew what to do.

Next time you’re in Sackville passing your day,
Glance over to Turing and silently say,
We’re sorry that back then, folk had it so wrong,
But nice one Alan, your memory lives strong.

 

Turing

 

Doorway Under The Arches