Every listing is part of the connected SellMyHorn network.
Every listing is part of the connected SellMyHorn network.
This isn’t a company project. It’s a personal one. I’m just a frustrated trumpet player who went back to the cornet — someone who knows the thrill of finding “the one” and the ache of letting it go.
Selling a horn isn’t like selling anything else. It’s emotional. You’ve played it, carried it, built memories around it. Every horn has its own soul — its own breath, its own story. Sometimes you sell because you must. Life changes. Maybe the horn is too heavy, too demanding, or just too similar to another. Maybe it’s time to pass it on to someone who will play it more than you do.
Either way, that moment — between keeping and letting go — hurts. That’s why I built this.
Each page lives as long as you want it to. When it’s time for it to go, it simply disappears — no clutter, no leftover listings.
You share your link only with the people you choose. It’s your own cool, short URL — something you can hand out or share on social media. It’s a simple, elegant way to show your horn — whether you’re trying to sell it or just showing off that rare find you know others wish they had.
I use a standard hand-built template for every page, so nothing here is automated. This isn’t mass production — it’s personal, intentional, and done by someone who actually loves these instruments.
Every trumpet player knows how hard it is once the bug bites and you start wanting another horn. Some of us manage it with the old rule, “One comes in, one goes out,” — but most of the time, we don’t follow it… unless the wife steps in.
Oh, the thrill of the chase! You fall in love with the sound, the feel, the shimmer of a new bell, or the smooth glide of valves that just fit you. But space, money, and logic always catch up. So, you let one go — not because you stopped loving it, but because the music keeps moving.
When you buy a horn, it’s joy. When you sell one, it’s bittersweet. And in between those two moments — that’s where Sell My Horn lives.
Some people use this as a gallery — a place to showcase that classic Martin cornet or that specialty bass trombone. Others just want a quick link to share in conversation: “Hey, check out my horn.” It doesn’t have to be a place to sell. It can simply be a place to display your instrument and tell its story.
The pictures are limited to ten, but the story has no limit. Maybe you own a horn that once belonged to someone famous, or maybe it’s the one that carried you through your best gigs — either way, the story makes it special.
And we’re not just for brass players. Sure, “horn” is in the name, but this format works beautifully for violins, flutes, oboes — any instrument with a story to tell.
If you’ve got an idea for a new name or a different musical niche, feel free to suggest it. We’ll take a look — and if it fits, we might just grab it and build a home for it too.
HornPoor.com — because we’ve all been there. (click to enlarge)
This whole thing started because I know what it feels like to part with an instrument that meant something. Selling a horn isn’t business — it’s personal. It’s a moment of change.
Sell My Horn was never meant to be a big corporate venture. It’s just a small idea built by a musician who got tired of seeing instruments lost in the noise of online marketplaces. I wanted a quiet, honest space where each horn could be treated with respect — where it could be appreciated, even in the act of letting it go.
Every page here is a little piece of that idea. No ads. No gimmicks. No middlemen. Just you, your horn, and the story you want to tell.
This project runs on GulfHost — a small, private network that keeps things secure and simple — but what really powers it is heart. The same heart that picks up a horn after years away. The same heart that knows sometimes you have to let one go to make room for another.
If you understand that feeling — that mix of pride, humor, and heartbreak — then you already understand Sell My Horn.
Thanks for being here.
— Dale
