In my opinion, no poet has ever been more recitable, wry, witty, consistently real, and factual on or about the cowboy life than S. Omar Barker. The Coggins have done a fine job in choosing which of S.O.B.'s works to include in this book for the growing number of people who appreciate cowboy poetry. Way to go!
— Waddie Mitchell, Elko, NV

Of all the poets who have ever written in the cowboy vernacular, my favorite is S. Omar Barker. He makes you live his story as he captures the imagery of the cowboy in vivid colors. His material will be used 100 years from now as the true image of the cowboy and his lifestyle. I only regret that I did not personally have the chance to meet and visit with my hero.
— Red Steagall, Ft. Worth, TX

If I could pick any man in the world to sit with on the back porch for an evening and just listen to his stories and poems, it would be S. Omar Barker. I've never read anything he wrote I didn't want to learn. His command of the Old West vernacular assures the reader that he has been there and makes the reader feel he is there. His meter, style, and content should be the hallmark by which all cowboy poetry is judged.
— Bob Christensen, Syracuse, Utah

S. Omar Barker captured the very heart of the West in his poetry and stories when America was struggling through a depression and a major world war. Through simple, yet eloquent words he comforted generations to come. Along the way, he became more than just a writer. He became a leader. This collection gives a perspective of what the West was all about!
— Duke Davis, Pecos, NM

1999

S. Omar Barker is considered one of the "Classic Cowboy Poets", and rightly so. His poetry is easily read or recited but is rich and open as the western sky. His words flow easily through classic rhyme and meter in a graceful and conversational style. Barker wrote with great affection for the West, its people, the land, but especially "The Cowboy". A keen observer of people and the land, his poetry is a reflection of the cowboy life and what the cowboy holds dearÐthe land, his horse, his friends, a good joke, a finely spun yarn, or a blue-eyed mountain cowgirl.

Anyone who appreciates the West will find the poetry of S. Omar Barker appealing. Like a Charlie Russell painting, his works create rich images in the mind.

Fred Gipson, author of the classic "Ole Yeller" says of BarkerÕs work "It's as western as sagebrush, authentic as a brush-scuffed old boot, and full of the warm-hearted humor that seems always to be a part of the men who ride where the range is wide".

Omar was born in the rugged Sangre de Cristo Mountains of northern New Mexico. S. Omar Barker was a rancher, high school teacher, college professor, forest ranger, soldier, outdoorsman, and legislator. He is best known, and rightly so, as one of the West's best and most admired cowboy poets. He was named after his father Squire L. Barker but went by Omar. He often signed his books with his initials and trademark brand, "Lazy SOB".

S. OMAR BARKER
Big Windies

They asked me: 'What's a windy?'... Well, us cowpokes love to spin
Our yarns around the campfire. Listen how them tales begin:

"Well, boys, I'm goin' to tell you 'bout the time I hunted bâar.
The fall work all was finished, so I took a pasear
A way up in the timber where the hoot owls have their fun,
To see if I could find some bear and maybe shoot me one.

The day was kinder warmish so I laid down for a nap.
I woke up late that evenin' when I heard a great big snap,
And there beside me stood a bear - I tell you, boys, it's true -
This bear had took my rifle and he'd snapped it right it two!

He throwed the pieces at me as I shinnied up a tree,
Then gave a grunt, spit on his hands and clumb right after me.
By that time it was gittin' dark. I reached the topmost limb.
That bear kept right on comin', so I knowed 'was me or him.

Well, boys, that tree was mighty tall - a lucky thing, no doubt -
For by the time he got it clumb, ol bruin's tongue was out
A lollin' through his slobbers, such a tongue you never see,
As purty, pink and limber as a rubber singletree.

That's what I grabbed aholt of, and I swang him round and round
Until I yanked him inside out, then flang him to the ground.
But here' the part that's funny: I had started down when, wup !
Here come that doggone bear again, a-climbin' right back up !

Looked like he'd somehow turned hisself all right side out once more.
All I could do was grab his tongue the way I had before,
And yank him inside out again. I heard him hit the earth,
Then started squirlin' down that tree for all that I was worth.

But I'd no sooner started down than by the gobs I'll swear,
Tongue out and climbin' fast again, here come that doggone bear !
Well, boys, we kept right on that way until the break of day:
Ten times I yanked him wrong side out, but still he wouldn't stay.

At least that's what I figgered, but as soon as it was light
I saw what I'd been doin', boys, throughout the dark of night.
There lay upon the ground below - my word please do not doubt -
Not one but ten dead grizzly bears, all turned plumb wrong side out.

"Big windies," if you'd like to know, are tales us cowboys spin
To kinder kill the lonesomes when night comes closin' in:
About the mighty Pecos Bill, with cyclones in his loop;
About the wring-tailed wowser and the barbwire-tailed kadoop.

In fact the so-called "windy" of the well known cow range stamp,
Ain't nothin' but us cowpokes huntin' grizzly bears - in camp!

—S. Omar Barker

Limited & Numbered Edition $19.95
ISBN 0-9662091-9-2