5 Baby-Making Songs to Which You Were Probably Conceived

Music for the lovers and love-making

Photo by Mick Haupt via Pexels

We know music can settle the mind, lift us up when we’re down, and can cause us to tap into our most creative sides. But . . . music can help get us living, breathing human beings into this world too. Come on, you know what I mean — baby-making music. Not just love songs, but songs played for the sole purpose of making love.

There are love songs and then there are songs you spin simply to rock and roll and I ain’t talking about heavy metal. When I think of musical artists who have had their time in my CD player during my most romantic adventures, they include: Maxwell, Luther Vandross, Barry White, Teddy Pendergrass, Marvin Gaye, and The Isley Brothers. Plainly put, the crooners.

Have you ever wondered if your parents were listening to their favorite baby-making song when they made you? Have you ever asked them? What was their response? If you’re a parent, did you and your partner pop that sexy tune of which you couldn’t get enough in the boombox while y’all shattered previous sexcapade records?

Come on, don’t be shy. We’re all family here.

This list, although rather short, are the songs I believe to be the most played during “sexy time” and songs to which you were probably conceived.


Marvin Gaye, “You Sure Love to Ball”

From the beginning of the song, Marvin makes it clear what his intentions are and why. When this song is played, there is no doubt as to what is about to go down. No doubt at all!

Oh, honey, I hope you never freeze
I love you, I love you so much
Oh baby, baby, don’t ever go away
Oh stay with me baby, I’ll love you night and day

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The Isley Brothers, “Between the Sheets”

This song needs no explanation. The title makes it clear and plain. Ron Isley is no stranger to crooning and when he gets his, “Ooh, Ooh baby, baby” moments on in this song, the only plausible thing is to let nature run its course and to let the baby-making begin.

Ooh, girl, I’ll love you all night long
And I know you felt it comin’ on
Ooh, darlin’, just taste my love, ooh, you taste so sweet
Sharin’ our love between the sheets

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Teddy Pendergrass, “Close the Door”

Teddy P.’s voice was smooth as silk and completely come-hitherish. He says openly and without shame, “Close the door. Let me give you what you’ve been waiting for. Baby, I’ve got so much love to give and I’m gonna give it all to you.” So many babies have been made while this song played in the background. I dare you to refute me on this one.

No need to worry no more
Let’s bring this day to a pleasant end
Girl, it’s me and you now
I’ve waited all day long just to hold you in my arms
And it’s exactly like I thought it would be
Me loving you and you loving me

YouTube

Art of Noise, “Moments in Love”

Although without any memorable lyrics, the melody is an unforgettable one. When Moments in Love begins, I immediately know the song — I know I’m in for a treat; one that includes harmonic genius and is anything but “noise.” Throw this little ditty on when the need arises to further overpopulate the Earth.

YouTube

Barry White, “Playing Your Game, Baby”

The late, great Maestro, Barry White had so many hit songs under his belt. His voice is one that will never be forgotten. He could say three words and women would fall out all over the stage based on that particular utterance.

With a voice fully coated in bass and a presence that could be defined as boldly seductive, Barry, I’m sure, helped bring many of you reading this bit of musical tidbit into existence.

You touch me, baby
But don’t cha know
You can’t hide
No, no, baby
When you give it up
It’s only enough
To get me by

YouTube

Music, with its luring capabilities, has proven, over the years, to be such a multifaceted tool for human beings. We dance to it. We cook when listening to it. We write while it’s playing . . . But when love is being made during its few minutes and moments of ecstasy, life is the result of it.

And really, isn’t that a beautiful thing?

Go on and turn on your favorite baby-making song, draw that bubble bath, coerce your honey dip into turning in early, and let the good times roll.

Let us know the baby’s name in nine months.


Originally published in P.S. I Love You via Medium.

The Great Has Been and The Ruined

Musical Selection: Queen|Another One Bites the Dust

An Audio Poem

Crack goes the whip and
every order or demand that
can break a camel’s back — 
thrown at us under a
noon day’s sun and just
like that, the fun . . . 
is done.

We’ve been asked to
pack our things, close
up shop, retire, put things
to bed and not wake up and
well, if you know us . . .
you know we’re not going
quietly.

Funny how money can shift
a mountain of growth
or how it can sharpen
the hardest edges especially
when the underdogs begin to
climb too high.

The Powers That Be say,
“Drag them back down,” 
and as we fall, they clap
and hoot and holler and
throw confetti in
the putrid air
juddering around their
safe spaces, laughing
at the marks we’ve made.

“It’s been a nice run,”
they’ll say. 
“You’ve done well, but
we have other plans
in mind and you’re not
in them,” and we knew
the hammer would come
down, it was only a
matter of time.
We were hanging on to
hope.

It’s hard to say goodbye
to family, to friends.
We’ve built a castle,
invited the village, and made
merry with thousands, and
now . . . that castle is
being demolished.

Here comes the wrecking ball.

These walls are being Jerichoed
right before us
and there is no time
for tears, we must gather
our pride, tuck it neatly
alongside our egos, and zip
the contents up . . .
Shut it down.

I wish there was another
way of saying and I don’t
want to go, but the great
has been and the ruined
are two different things and
I’m having trouble recognizing
which one we are.

Today is the first day
of not being angry or hurt
or sad because business
is business and when
business is business, words
do not matter.


This poem was written as a “swan song”/goodbye poem to our readers and writers at P.S. I Love You via Medium. The magazine will no longer be operative after June 30, 2021. I’ve been an editor there since last June and I’ve had so much fun doing what I love most.

I Got It

Musical Selection: The Internet|Under Control
An Experiment
Ary by pLoKi via Pinterest

I tell him things can’t
get any worse and we
agree to tell her — we agree
to let her know we’ve been
watching her, dreaming about
her, and waiting for her
to pick one of us.

Creepy, though it may sound,
she was into it.
He had his reasons.
I had mine. We told her
all of them.

“Fifteen minutes. Just give
me fifteen minutes. That’s
all I need to prove
I’m the better choice.”

I paced in front of her
awaiting her decision.
Surely, she’d see things
my way, but what happened
was just the opposite.

I stood there, still as clay,
afraid to shed the past
in front of a person
I claimed a future with and
nothing I said made
any sense.

She looked on, curious
to know where my antics
were headed; everything
drew itself free from
my grip and every word I
uttered turned into dust.

I watched this woman
we chased sprinkle
herself over the two
of us — potioned and portioned
perfectly and the only
thing I could think of
to say was, 
“I got it.”


This poem came to me while listening to the musical selection on repeat — I had the cover photo saved in my phone for later use; I felt as though it was the perfect image for this piece


Originally published in Prism & Pen via Medium.

comme je suis

as I am

Me, chilling in Anchorage, Alaska, Summer of 2019, at Alexainie’s place. I was pretty damn happy and it shows.

An Audio Poem

I am aging in a way that brings
peace to my spirit.
It’s something I’ve been struggling
to gain for over a decade
and now, I’m familiar with how
to attain it and even more importantly,
how to keep it.

It is the month of love and everyone
is fumbling over their confessions,
careful not to spill more than
their fair share of beans
and I find myself uninterested in
their daily goings-on.
I am moving through this life
with my feet planted firmly
on the ground and every move I
design before me is planned
and calculated. I am my
own defense.

The hurdles I jumped led me to
this smooth path and although there
were holes in my soles over time,
I wear better shoes.
I am more prepared, more . . .
knowledgeable about what I want
and what I aim to get.

Each year, I think about you
and how it was hard for you
to see me for who I was
and love me for that too.
I now recognize that I was
eager to find fault in the way
I loved because it was too
much for you — it was too
bold for you and I spent
years attempting to cut out
half of the person that
made me happy simply to
satisfy you.

What kind of hell was I living in
that made me believe I was in
heaven?
I would not dare seek your counsel,
opinion, or thoughts on the matter,
you would only make me
wary and even more apprehensive.

I am finding peace in the
swell of the clouds and the
gusty landings of the wind.
I stand in a circle of forgiveness
which includes all versions
of me; past and present.
I tell them you didn’t need me.
I tell them you couldn’t love me.
I tell them we know better now.

I am who I am and to be
loved for that is the only
kind of love I envision.
If anyone interested holds something
different on their tongues,
I . . . We don’t want it.



Originally published in P. S. I Love You via Medium.

We Were Like That Lenny Kravitz Song Until We Were Finally Over

Rhythmic Prose

Photo by Jakayla Toney via Unsplash

Sometimes, I miss it. Sometimes, I don’t. You know . . . Us. It doesn’t hit me as hard as it used to when I was crawling through my twenties or attempting to climb my way through my thirties. But on those dreary, cold days where the wind is blowing harder than the predicted chill, I find myself lost in thoughts of you . . . of Us. And I do drift to a place where it’s not so easy to leave — the comfort of it can be damaging.

And who would blame me at this point? Good memories are hard to come by these days and I have enough stored up so I can pull from them at will. Isn’t that a blessing? Isn’t that something for which to be thankful? You would say so. I know this. You saw God in everything including the devil that wrapped himself up in us. You would call us golden if someone gave you the floor long enough to gloat.

I find myself lost in thoughts of you . . . of Us.

I didn’t mean to stray so far away but I was hungry — in search of other ways of getting fed and the easiest route was the one that led to strings being plucked by long, slender fingers and a voice like crème brûlée— sweet & smooth. I stuck to those things. Tangible and present. Different from what I had begun to see in you.

I could never deny the fire burning in us. We stoked it for years, poking at it with thick sticks, setting apart the embers. We had learned how to pull back just in time to save ourselves from becoming charred — scarred for life or disposable.

You saw God in everything including the devil that wrapped himself up in us.

We were music. Classical? Rhythm & Blues? Funk? Maybe we were jazz. The ease of each tune dancing across a room or a verse of scats uttered quickly by chocolate-covered lips. We lasted for hours on play. The B-side was the best side. The B-side was my best side.

Back and forth. Over and over. We had our best days and our worst days and some would say we were like that one Lenny Kravitz song until we were finally over. No more violins or bass riffs. No more snare taps or saxophone rips. No crooning or gyrating at the mic . . . We were — until we weren’t. We grew until we couldn’t.

I was hungry — in search of other ways of getting fed.

And it took so long to get to that place. What were we waiting for?

YouTube

Originally published on Medium.